Sermon on the Mount: Being Over Behavior

Last week, we looked at the “Golden Rule.” Luanne connected it to Jesus’ emphasis on the commandment to love and phrased it this way: Love your neighbor as yourself, and do to others what you would have them do to you. It is important that we keep that in mind as we continue into this week’s passage. For the sake of continuity, I decided to back up one verse and begin this week’s passage with Matthew 7:12, our concluding verse from last week.

“So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets. Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it. Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? Likewise, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them. Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’ (Matthew 7:12-23, NIV)

This is not an easy passage. Pastor John laid out several points for our consideration, but the point that stood out to me was that the choices we make impact our Christlikeness. We have the freedom to make our choices, but there are consequences to each choice we make, and our lives produce evidence of these choices. I would like us to look at the Message paraphrase of our passage, too, because it causes me to think a little differently about some verses that I am fairly familiar with.

“Here is a simple, rule-of-thumb guide for behavior: Ask yourself what you want people to do for you, then grab the initiative and do it for them. Add up God’s Law and Prophets and this is what you get. Don’t look for shortcuts to God. The market is flooded with surefire, easygoing formulas for a successful life that can be practiced in your spare time. Don’t fall for that stuff, even though crowds of people do. The way to life—to God!—is vigorous and requires total attention. Be wary of false preachers who smile a lot, dripping with practiced sincerity. Chances are they are out to rip you off some way or other. Don’t be impressed with charisma; look for character. Who preachers are is the main thing, not what they say. A genuine leader will never exploit your emotions or your pocketbook. These diseased trees with their bad apples are going to be chopped down and burned. Knowing the correct password—saying ‘Master, Master,’ for instance—isn’t going to get you anywhere with me. What is required is serious obedience—doing what my Father wills. I can see it now—at the Final Judgment thousands strutting up to me and saying, ‘Master, we preached the Message, we bashed the demons, our God-sponsored projects had everyone talking.’ And do you know what I am going to say? ‘You missed the boat. All you did was use me to make yourselves important. You don’t impress me one bit. You’re out of here.’” (MSG, emphasis mine)

I happened to be reading a book that mentioned these verses during my quiet time on Sunday morning. Regarding the narrow gate and the broad gate, the author wrote:

“I regularly hear this passage interpreted as though Jesus were saying the in the end, very few will “be saved and go to heaven.” That’s not what Christ is referring to at all. Read it again. “So whatever you want people to do to you, do just that to them. Yes, that is what the law and the prophets are all about. Go in by the narrow gate. The gate that leads to destruction, you see, is nice and wide, and the road going there has plenty of room. Lots of people go that way.” (Matthew 7:12-13) Regardless of our faith profession or final destiny, our Lord is summarizing his takeaway from the Law and the Prophets–he’s describing the Jesus Way in this life in terms of the famous “Golden Rule.” He laments that most people–even most Christians–opt out of the Way that leads to life and instead, face the tragic self-destructive results of following the violent mob on the broad path. . . So, practically speaking, the Jesus Way truly leads to life, which includes human flourishing now and eternal life beyond.” (A More Christlike Way, A More Beautiful Faith, by Bradley Jersak)

Jersak suggests that Jesus is summarizing the Law & the Prophets–this Jesus Way he has been laying out in the sermon on the mount–in terms of the “Golden Rule.” He, if my understanding is correct, is asserting that Jesus is once again inviting his listeners to join him on the path he has been laying out–the way of the kingdom. Jesus’ goal is always to bring life, not death. His heart is always for all those who hear his invitation to follow him on the path of life, to “bring us a continual revelation of resurrection life, the path to the bliss that brings us face-to-face with him.” (Psalm 16:11, TPT, adapted)

Interestingly, Jesus may have intended a different understanding with his usage of the word we see translated “narrow” in our passage than what we most often think of. The word in the Greek means “strait,” as in a narrow passage of water, but its root word means to make to stand, make firm, establish, and also… to abide.

I got a little giddy when I read that definition, because abiding was already on my mind when I heard Pastor John talking about producing good fruit. To view this passage with that definition in mind is more than a little fascinating to me. I looked up many of the words in this passage, and it would be easy for me to get lost in the weeds trying to present them all to you. So I will summarize what I learned from Strong’s Greek Lexicon and offer the perspective I gleaned, fully aware of my own limitations–I am no theologian, nor will I pretend to be. Instead, I want to offer what made my heart burn with love for Jesus all over again, because it felt true to his character, to his way of being in the world, as I learned…

Jesus invites us to love our neighbors as ourselves and do to others what we would have them do to us, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets. He follows this statement with, “Enter through the narrow gate,” or, the firm, established way, where we can abide and stand. The wide gate, the broad way, is like an open square, a spacious, wide, empty expanse–a gaping opening or chasm. It’s hard to imagine abiding in a gaping chasm. The second time in the passage that Jesus speaks about a small gate and narrow road, the word translated narrow is different in the Greek. It has roots that mean troubled, afflicted, a worn way, and at the deepest root–a Greek word spelled trauma (blew my mind a bit…)– wounding.

When I read “small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life” in light of this second definition, I can’t help but think about the self-sacrificing, cruciform way of love that Jesus modeled and has been inviting us into throughout the entire sermon on the mount to this point. He invites us to abide, knowing we’ll need to remain connected to him as we live his way–a way that includes afflicting and wounding as we pour out our life and love for others in his strength. Traveling on this path, abiding with Jesus, is the only way to live a life that produces good fruit. John 15:5 tells us:

“I am the sprouting vine and you’re my branches. As you live in union with me as your source, fruitfulness will stream from within you—but when you live separated from me you are powerless.” (TPT)

In her beautiful book, Chasing Vines, Beth Moore writes, “The job of the branch is to abide. Fruit is assured to every branch that fulfills its singular task: abide in the Vine. . . You need not worry that all this abiding will get boring. There’s no getting used to Jesus. One of the best parts of abiding in Christ is staying close enough to catch a glimpse of what he decides to reveal. Abide in Me. If you’re willing, you’ll never quit learning. We forget that He came to be Immanuel, God with us. Abide in Me. Work with Me. . .

Of course when I read that last line, Matthew 11 came to mind again. Because it’s in me and it bubbles up so often:

Simply join your life with mine. Learn my ways and you’ll discover that I’m gentle, humble, easy to please. You will find refreshment and rest in me. (Matthew 11:29, TPT)

Beth goes on to write, quoting Dr. Gary M. Burgeons:

“What are the outcomes of this sort of life? The fruit Jesus expects from the branches is first and foremost love. . . This spiritual awakening, this transforming encounter does not always lead to fantastic signs and powers. . . It leads principally to a life that has features of Jesus’ life running through its veins.”

Our transforming is not about fantastic signs and powers–I’m remembering the Message paraphrase of our passage, specifically, ‘Master, we preached the Message, we bashed the demons, our God-sponsored projects had everyone talking.’ And do you know what I am going to say? ‘You missed the boat. All you did was use me to make yourselves important. You don’t impress me one bit.” No, the fruit of abiding, according to Dr. Burgeons, is “a life that has features of Jesus’ life running through its veins.”

Moore goes on to write,

Did you catch that? Abiding inevitably leads to love. A life that is lived in intimacy with Jesus is a life that lived in love. Abounding in love is possible only when we abide in Him. . . Love God. Love people. That’s what we’re here to do. “The fruit of the Spirit is love” (Galatians 5:22). Without love, all fruit is plastic. The fruit of our lives, in all its forms and manifold graces, is truest to the Vine when it’s generously extended and accessible to stagers and aliens of any kind. Our fruit is sweetest to the Vine when it extends a direct advantage to the disadvantaged and to the orphan, to the widow and to the poor. Our fruit best reflects the Vine when it deliberately leaves room at the edges–for the marginalized, the cornered, the oppressed, the mistreated, the harassed, and the abused. That’s where Jesus went, and that’s who Jesus sought. “As he is so also are we in this world” (1 John 4:17).

Brad Jersak wrote about the Jesus Way. Beth wrote about where Jesus went and who he sought. We are filtering all of this through the “Golden Rule” and way that Jesus presented, Love your neighbor as yourself, and do to others what you would have them do to you. And if we follow the narrow way that is cruciform, others-focused Love, by remaining connected to the Vine and being willing to have his life reproduced in us, we will bear good fruit, fruit that will grow in abundance and can be offered to others.

“Without love, all fruit is plastic.”

That line speaks truth. I won’t include 1 Corinthians 13 again this week, but it applies, as it often does. We are utterly bankrupt without love. Love keeps on loving… How? By abiding. It’s all about being, not behavior.

I didn’t go into detail about our influences and filters, false prophets, or doing vs. not doing the will of God. I also didn’t get into the discussion on judgement that this passage stirs. My word count is already a little ridiculous, and I need to wrap up my portion. But even if I had leaned into all of the points in the passage, I’m not sure I would have landed anywhere different…

We continue to come back to the same things during this series, because Jesus continued to say the same things. Throughout the whole sermon. Over and over, in different ways, so as to clearly invite all of his listeners into the kingdom he presented. It seems he really wanted us to hear his heart–which is always full of love toward all, a cruciform, self-emptying love that always moves toward others. His focus was not death and destruction, but on life and abundance. He came as the image of the invisible God, the God who IS love. So Jesus, then, is the embodiment of love. And he invites us once again to join him on this narrow way of abiding in him so that his life can grow in us and produce good fruit that can be shared with the world around us.

If we choose to abide, to walk with him and learn from him, growing in his ways, the product will be good fruit. If we choose to walk in our own way, in a broad, spacious chasm where we can’t be rooted and established because we’re trying to do it all on our own for our own glory, all we’ll ever produce is plastic fruit. We can’t eat that. Or share it. That way will leave us starving, lonely, weak, and unable to stand. Too much time disconnected from the Vine leaves branches dry and dying, unable to sustain or produce life. These are the natural consequences of choosing not to abide. The choice is ours, and we will be known by our fruit…

–Laura

Laura did a beautiful job of reminding us that Jesus’ entire message and ministry were founded in love. Always love. If we stay connected to the vine, if we abide in the vine, if we remain, our lives produce love. Jesus tells us in John 15:5: I am the vine, you are the branches; if you remain in me you will bear much fruit. Apart from me you can do nothing.

As Laura wrote above, The Passion Translation words it like this: I am the sprouting vine and you’re my branches. As you live in union with me as your source, fruitfulness will stream from within you—but when you live separated from me you are powerless.

The Passion Translation offers a footnote after the word branches that reads: The branch of the Lord is now Christ living in his people, branching out through them. The church is now his lampstand. . .

With abiding in Love as our foundation, and the reminder that Jesus teaches us to love our neighbor as ourselves and do to others as we would have them do to us, and with the acknowledgment that we are not to judge, but are to be discerning, let’s look at the next verses:

Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves.  By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles?  Likewise, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit.  A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit.  Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.  Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them. (7:15-19)

I think we can get deceived into thinking that we are smart enough to determine who is a false prophet and who isn’t, but Jesus warns us in Matthew 24, that many will stop following me and fall away, and they will betray one another and hate one another. And many lying prophets will arise, deceiving multitudes and leading them away from the path of truth. (v. 10-11)

…and the verse from that passage in Matthew 24 that haunts me …the love of many will grow cold. (v. 12)

So Jesus tells us how to avoid being deceived– how to discern false prophets; it’s by their fruit. What does the New Testament teach us about fruit?

The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

Or to get a fresh perspective, the TPT interprets it like this:

But the fruit produced by the Holy Spirit within you is divine love in all its varied expressions:

joy that overflows,

peace that subdues,

patience that endures,

kindness in action,

a life full of virtue,

faith that prevails,

gentleness of heart, and

strength of spirit.

Never set the law above these qualities, for they are meant to be limitless.

(Galatians 5:22-23)

We cannot behave our way into the fruit of the Spirit–abiding in the vine leads to inner transformation, inner transformation leads to Holy Spirit fruit.

Backing up again to last week—God doesn’t place us in the role of judge; God does; however, give us discernment. False prophets, and false teachers don’t bear the fruit of the Holy Spirit. (And I’m just going to say, we are all teachers…our lives teach.)

Jesus goes on to say:

 Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.  Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’

Jesus was not one to mince words–but remember–he was never being cruel. Jesus, the image of Love, was all about the Father’s will, and is teaching us God’s heart, God’s desire, God’s way, God’s love- not just for us, but for the world.

So what is it about these false teachers that causes Jesus to say “I don’t know you?” We have to back up a bit–what has Jesus been teaching that his followers look like all throughout the Sermon on the Mount? They are poor in spirit, compassionate (mourn), meek, they hunger and thirst for “diakosyne” (righteousness, justice, equity), they are merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers, and sometimes persecuted for looking like Jesus…

So why will Jesus say I don’t know you to some who say to him–but I did all of this in your name? Pastor John said it beautifully– “Kingdom people look like me (Jesus)–you didn’t look like me, so I didn’t recognize you.”

Do we look like Jesus? What is the fruit of 21st-century American Christianity? Does it look like Spirit fruit or has our love grown cold? Does the world experience the love of God through us? Do the tax collectors and sinners, the outsiders of our day know that Jesus loves them just like they are–and not only that–do they know he wants to hang out with them, to be with them? Do we model that? Jesus’ people look like him?

If the answer is no–don’t despair–all is not hopeless. Philippians 2:13 in the NLT says: For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him.

God never gives up; however, in order for God to work in us, we must choose the narrow way, the abiding way. We must remain connected to God–abide in God’s love, abide in God’s presence, abide in The Vine, then the power, the energy of transformation that allows us to produce the Spirit’s fruit and carry out God’s loving will is made evident to those around us.

Pastor John summed it up like this: God is inviting us to live a better way. Jesus is showing us how–he offers to transform us as we abide in him. Our inner character (that comes from abiding) changes how we live life. It’s not about professing— it’s about living. It’s not about “do”–it’s about “be”.

I am the sprouting vine and you’re my branches. As you live in union with me as your source, fruitfulness will stream from within you. . .

–Luanne

Preventing Problems In Grapes - How To Treat Common Grapevine Pests And  Diseases

Rescue: The Thief and The Garden

If you’ve been reading our blog for the last few weeks, you know that Pastor John has been moving through a series on rescue. We’ve looked at personal rescue, such as Abram rescuing Lot, Boaz rescuing Ruth (and Ruth rescuing Naomi), The reckless love of the father running to his homeward-bound destitute younger son, and going out to his indignant older son, and we’ve looked at God’s rescuing of an entire nation when he led the Israelites out of slavery under the leadership of Moses.

Today’s story of rescue, found in Luke 23:32-43 happens as Jesus is hanging on the cross, gasping for every breath; he is dying. He is hanging between two men who are in the same situation. I imagine neither of them was wearing a crown of thorns, and I don’t know if they’d been beaten almost to death by Roman soldiers prior to their crucifixions, but they were definitely suffering on their crosses. These three men were that day’s example of Rome’s cruelty and violent means to ensure their power–many people were crucified during Rome’s reign.

Before I move on from here, I want to acknowledge that we are in the midst of a global pandemic. Thousands of people are dying. Most everyone has had life disrupted. Many have lost jobs. In times like these, it is not unusual for people to blame God or ask God where he is and why he has abandoned us, or why he is so cruel. While I certainly don’t understand the ways of God, I do know, because the cross is evidence, that God is in this with us. He loves us. He joins us in our suffering. Brian Zahnd, in his book The Unvarnished Jesus writes:

Jesus doesn’t die as a lone sufferer, but as Immanuel among the sufferers…To see Jesus Christ hung upon a cross wearing a crown of thorns, with victims on either side, is perhaps, the most powerful single image of the gospel. Incarnation, forgiveness, and kingdom are all present.  

Immanuel, God with us–even in this. We are not alone.

As Jesus is nailed to the cross he speaks words that many of us are familiar with: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.” (Luke 23:34)  

There’s a footnote in The Passion Translation regarding this phrase that says: The Greek text implies a repetitive action… As the centurion crushed him to the ground and tied his arms to the crossbeam, Jesus prayed, “Father, forgive them.” When the spikes tore through each quivering palm, he prayed again, “Father, forgive them.” And when the soldiers parted his garments and gambled for the seamless robe, again Jesus prayed, “Father, forgive them.” Only heaven knows how many times that prayer was spoken.  

Let that sink in. This is the heart of God. No one was asking for forgiveness, yet God the Son was requesting undeserved forgiveness for his violent perpetrators, as his fully human body was being tortured beyond anything we can imagine. I’m reminded of John 3:17:  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.  It’s mind-blowing. God’s unconditional love is mind-blowing.

It makes me wonder, as Jesus intercedes on our behalf (Romans 8:34),  is he still praying “Father, forgive them.”?  Or was his overarching forgiveness fully accomplished on the cross, and now we live in unconditional forgiveness? I don’t know the answers, but I do know that no one is beyond God’s forgiveness and embrace. Not even the two men who were crucified with Jesus.

The King James version calls the two men “malefactors”. I like that word–I think it captures the essence of their misdeeds. The word basically means “evil-doer”. Etymonline.com says it’s “one who does evil or injury to another” (the opposite of benefactor). There are some commentaries that suggest these two men were partners in crime with Barabbas (the insurrectionist who Pilate set free in exchange for Jesus).  If they were part of an insurrection to overthrow Rome, Rome’s leaders would certainly perceive that as evil. If they had killed Romans while pursuing revolutionary acts, Rome would certainly have perceived that as injury to another. No matter what their actual crimes were, according to the power and structure of Rome, they were malefactors, and therefore worthy of public humiliation, torture and execution. I think it’s important to pause for a moment and remember that like all human beings, these two were more than the descriptive labels placed upon them. They had names, families, friends, personalities, and life stories that led them to this point–real people, not just dehumanizing labels.

And it is here, in the chaos of this moment that one of these men mocks Jesus and the other reaches out to Jesus. Luke describes the moment like this:

One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.”

Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.  Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (23: 39-43)

We (I) can be either one of these men at any given moment. Sometimes I am asking God to fix a situation, I get frustrated when he doesn’t seem to listen, and doesn’t come through the way I want him to. I can frame it in really lofty language, but the heart is often–come on, God…do this according to my desires. That’s what one of the men was doing—“Come on, Jesus, save yourself and us.” His understanding of salvation was – get me off this cross so I can continue with life as normal.

The other man had eyes to see something different. He recognized Jesus’ innocence;  he knew, that despite what every earthly thing looked like, Jesus had a kingdom and he wanted to be part of it.  His understanding of salvation was union with Jesus.

Jesus said to him…TODAY, you will be with me in paradise.

Paradise–it means “garden”–as in the Garden of Eden before the fall kind of garden. Thayer’s Greek Lexicon states: According to the opinion of many of the church Fathers, the paradise in which our first parents dwelt before the fall still exists, neither on earth nor in the heavens, but above and beyond the world.

This same word  paradise is used in Revelation 2:7 where the resurrected Jesus says: “Anyone with ears to hear must listen to the Spirit and understand what he is saying to the churches. To everyone who is victorious, I will give fruit from the tree of life in the paradise of God.”

Jesus says to the man, labeled malefactor, I will rescue you, and today we’ll be together in the perfect Garden of God.

I’m mIn the Genesis account of the garden, there are trees. Adam and Eve chose to eat from the one tree that they were told not to eat from–the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.  There was another tree in the garden–the tree of life. They could have chosen to eat from that tree.

God, for whatever reason, allows us to make choices. Some of our choices have devastating consequences. He allows us to experience the consequences of our choices, and he rescues us. Once Adam and Eve see good and evil, everything changes. Blame is almost immediate–I’m good; he/she is bad. That shift is the beginning of all the world’s chaos.

God, in what some see as punishment, didn’t want them to eat from the Tree of Life and live forever in their “good and evil” state, so he removed them from the garden in order to protect them. It was an act of love.

In the ultimate demonstration of God’s love, Jesus died on a tree and paved the way to garden of Eden life.

Revelation 22: 1-2 tells us:

He showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming from the throne of God and of the Lamb, in the middle of its street On either side of the river was the tree of life, bearing twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit every month; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.

This Jesus’ life is available now. Our personal rescue is available now. The healing of the nations is available now. We get to choose which tree to eat from–“good and evil” or “life”. They both bear fruit. One harms, one heals.

Today–Jesus rescues us, remembers us and reminds us his kingdom is here. Paradise begins here…

–Luanne

I have read and re-read Luanne’s words, praying for direction, asking what I might add to this week’s post. She reminds us of the hope that we have, the truths that still stand in the midst of the chaos we see and feel pressing in around us:

Jesus’ life is available now.

Our personal rescue is available now.

The healing of the nations is available now

Jesus rescues us.

Jesus remembers us.

Jesus reminds us that his kingdom is here.

Paradise begins here

All true. All beautiful. Even now.

As I typed those last words, I found myself asking, “Really? Do you believe that? Here? Now?” 

I want to. But if I’m honest, there are moments in this present turmoil we’re all facing when it all feels too lofty for my reach.

And yet, I know

I know the truth in those words because over and over, Jesus has come in the beautiful way that only he can to bear witness to my pain. He has come to me in moments of despair and doubt and refused to look away, because his love is the co-suffering kind. He endured our wrath and violence, and chose to love, forgive and welcome the very ones who mocked and maligned him as he hung, murdered unjustly to satisfy the bloodthirsty brood who didn’t have eyes to see the kingdom of peace–the paradise he brought with him when he entered into the story of humanity as one of us. And he comes still today to minister to our soul-amnesia, to stand in solidarity with us as our co-suffering savior, to bear witness to the realities of our lives when we don’t have eyes to see him standing there.

To bear witness is no small thing. It’s more than being willing to look at the hard, to not look away, though it includes that. It means to share, as one’s own, another’s testimony, to enter into pain. It is the embodiment of empathy, support, and love that lightens the load by upholding from below and covering from above.

It hurts to bear witness to another’s agony… It’s much easier to look away, to erect a wall of protection around our hearts that keeps us from feeling the weight of another’s suffering. We can look at pain so long that we become desensitized to it. We “see” it, but it never penetrates our hearts.

When Jesus walked the earth, he did so wholeheartedly. It’s a dangerous way to live because it robs one of the luxury of remaining uninvolved.  Jesus modeled what it means to bear witness to the hard and the ugly, the trauma, the grief, the losses of this life. He didn’t merely look upon pain, he entered into each story. He did not ridicule fear, doubt, and uncertainty. Rather, he acknowledged them and offered himself as the answer. He invited the weary to exchange heavy, ill-fitting yokes for a shared yoke, for his yoke. A yoke that he doesn’t place on anyone, but that he carries with everyone.

Jesus bore witness to the pain of the malefactors on either side of him while his own pain was excruciating. He bore witness to the pain he saw beneath the surface in the executors, the ugliness that lived in the hearts of those shouting, “Crucify him!” as he breathed words of pardon, of forgiveness. The men on either side of him bore witness to his pain as well, as they experienced the dying with him.

Many witnessed the events of that day with their eyes. Few bore witness to the pain Jesus endured. Among those that did were a few women including Jesus’ mother, Mary, and one of his dearest friends and followers, John.

Mary, Jesus’ mother, was standing next to his cross, along with Mary’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. So when Jesus looked down and saw the disciple he loved standing with her, he said, “Mother, look–John will be a son to you.” Then he said, “John, look–she will be a mother to you!” (John 19:25-27a)

Can you imagine the grief of these women, the grief of John? What about the grief Jesus felt as he witnessed the sorrow, the anguish his mother and friends experienced as they watched him die?

None of them turned away. Not Jesus. Not his mom. Not his dear friend. They entered into the suffering of one another in the midst of their own pain.

I think that is an important point to note, to remember…

The other night, my husband and I were cooking and doing dishes. I told him that I was sorry for how back and forth, how up and down I had been lately. I told him that my emotions were swinging like crazy, and even I didn’t know what to expect from one moment to the next.

He told me that it was okay, and then he quietly added, “I’ve seen it before…”

What did he mean?

“After we lost your mom.”

He was identifying grief. And he was right. The volatility many of us are experiencing in these days has a name. It is grief. It comes and goes as it will, it offers neither warning nor greeting. It is the heavy blanket that wraps us head to toe and overtakes our senses. It can dampen hope and set joy just out of reach. It is grief that can make it hard to cling to the beautiful truths Luanne wrote above.

We may not all be able to identify our feelings as grief, but we are all experiencing it–individually and collectively. Losses are mounting. They look different to each of us, some stories seem more worthy of grief than others. But as I heard earlier this week, no good comes from comparing losses. The worst loss, I heard it said, is your loss. Whatever you are facing right now. We’re all experiencing loss. And loss brings grief–with or without our permission.

Usually when we face loss, there are people on the outside who can bear witness to our pain, empathize with us in our grief, offer strength to uphold us in our weakness. But right now…

None of us are on the outside. 

Each one of us, everywhere, are part of this unfolding drama. Willing or not, we are members of this cast. None of us are unaffected. This is why the example of Jesus is so important. Just as was modeled by Jesus, the women, and John, we must have the courage to look up, to behold one another even while our own grief sits heavy.

Pastor John said Sunday, “My shoulders are not big enough to carry this.”

He is absolutely right. Neither are mine. Or yours. We are all in this moment in history together, even while we’re apart. The story of Jesus teaches us many things, but one of the most vital is that it shows us our connectedness.

I am the Vine, you are the branches. When you’re joined with me and I with you, the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant. Separated, you can’t produce a thing. . . I’ve loved you the way my Father has loved me. Make yourselves at home in my love. If you keep my commands, you’ll remain intimately at home in my love. That’s what I’ve done—kept my Father’s commands and made myself at home in his love. I’ve told you these things for a purpose: that my joy might be your joy, and your joy wholly mature. This is my command: Love one another the way I loved you. This is the very best way to love. Put your life on the line for your friends. (John 15:5, 9-13)

We are all branches on the vine. The vine is Jesus. We grow connected to his life, his love, the nutrients we need for survival. We grow together on this vine. He invites us to make a home inside his love, to stay there, to find that attached to the source, we have all we need. He is the vine that bears the weight of each branch and all the branches. He is the source and the witness to the growth of each one and the fruit they produce. He is the channel through which our lives are nourished, sustained, upheld.
“Love one another the way I love you.”
He invites us to learn from him, and then to do likewise with and for one another. We are connected. Whether we want to be or not. None of us can walk through these days alone. Not one of us is strong enough to carry the burdens of the others. Only the vine can bear the weight of the collective branches… But each branch can bear witness to the branches around it. 
This Easter Sunday will look different. Church buildings will be empty. Family get togethers will be cancelled. Neighborhood egg hunts for the littles won’t be held. Our arms will ache to embrace another, and lonely tears will fall. Unknowns will abound–but don’t they always, anyway? Fear may bubble to the surface, grief may steal our breath.
And–
Our Jesus, who conquered death and holds its keys, is with us in this place. He sees. He knows. He chooses to bear witness to our pain, to suffer alongside us, to grieve our losses as his own– and, as he models the kingdom value of co-suffering love, he invites us to do the same. To lift our eyes and see. To enter in with those around us and allow them to enter in with us. Because he knows what we sometimes forget–
As we lift our eyes to bear witness to the pain, we can’t help but also see the beauty of the kingdom all around. He knows that paradise exists where love presides. He shows us the way–will we follow?
–Laura

 

Wild flowers in lush bright colorful plants

 

 

Teach Me: Trust

Sometimes a familiar word will hit me in a new way which happened as I was beginning to formulate my thoughts for this post. The word understand popped out at me, leading me on a search for its etymology. I discovered that it’s actually a little tricky to define. If its root is Old English it could mean “stand in the midst of” or “among”, or possibly “examine, investigate, scrutinize” or even “stand under”. If its root is Germanic it most likely means “stand before”. If its root is Greek, it could mean “I know how, I know, I stand upon” (www.etymonline.com).

If I look it up in Strong’s Concordance of biblical words, the original Hebrew word biynah was translated as understanding, wisdom, knowledge, and meaning.

Why all this searching? Because in this series, Pastor John is encouraging us to ask God to teach us. This week the request is “Teach me to trust”.  As an introduction to my portion of the blog, I was going to write out the very familiar scripture Proverbs 3:5-6: Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;  in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. I wanted to dig into “understanding” and see if there was something deeper to discover. Adding in other possible definitions allows the verse to read: Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own wisdom, knowledge, meaning, do not stand upon or under your own thoughts…  

Many of us are familiar with this verse…yet, how many of us actually live by this verse? The words are easy to say; however, I find actually doing it to be hard.

The good news is difficulty and learning often go hand in hand, and although I like to avoid difficulty, refusing to consider something new, to be challenged in how I see the world, in how I think, in how I live, leads to living from the skewed perspective of my own narrow understanding, through my own cloudy lens.

When thinking of how we learn things, or how our life lenses are formed, we need to consider how we take in information. For some of us, our learning began with absolutes that shaped our attitudes and beliefs, and we have lived life through that lens. For others, our learning began with our life experiences and our absolutes were formed through the lens of personal experience.

I would say that the majority of us learn from life experience rather than what we’ve been taught, and therefore what we experience becomes the highest influence in our lives and shapes our view of the world.  What happens next, if we’re not willing to consider another’s lens, is that my experience and my absolutes butt up against your experience and your absolutes, leading to conflict and disunity.

For many centuries, people had to rely on God and God’s provision for every aspect of their survival. Then, for a season of time, there was a push toward absolutes becoming society’s teacher. The industrial revolution played a big role in that mindset. Singer-songwriter Jason Upton points this out in his song The Farmer and the Field. 

He sings these lyrics:

       There was a time not long ago when the sun did shine and the sowers sowed,                                                        and the rain did rain and the crops did grow.                                                       It was a time before machinery, a time before certainty, a time before we bought the lie,           it was a time before the farmer died, when we had trusting hearts and human soul,                                            it was a time not very long ago…when we trusted you.                              Lord, we want to trust you again.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding–your own certainty…

What does it look like to live like that?

It looks like Noah who had never built a boat, never saw a large body of water, was not an expert in animal science, yet he spent a number of years building an ark because God asked him to. (Genesis 5)

It looks like Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt and coming up to the Red Sea with the Egyptian army bearing down on them making it all look like a death trap. The Israelites cried out:  “Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt? Didn’t we say to you in Egypt, ‘Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians’? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!” In other words—we are leaning on our own understanding and this doesn’t look good, so we’re blaming you, Moses!!

Moses responded: “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again.  The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”

Then the Lord instructed Moses to raise his staff, stretch his arm out over the sea, and the Lord delivered the Israelites. (Exodus 14)

What about Joshua and the battle plan to take Jericho? They marched around the city one time a day for six days. Seven priests blew their trumpets, the ark of the Lord was behind them, the armed men were in front of them and the rear guard was behind the ark. Six days. And then on the seventh day, when they were going to actually enter into physical battle, they marched around the wall seven times, the longest distance yet, which would make them more tired, and then when the priests played the trumpets Joshua commanded the people to shout and the walls fell. (Joshua 6)

What about Nehemiah and the plan to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem? He was an exile in Babylon. He learned that Jerusalem, the home of his ancestors was in ruins. He had access to the king as the king’s cup-bearer. When the king noticed Nehemiah’s sadness, he asked what was wrong. Nehemiah records: I was very much afraid,  but I said to the king, “May the king live forever! Why should my face not look sad when the city where my ancestors are buried lies in ruins, and its gates have been destroyed by fire?”

The king asked Nehemiah what he wanted. Nehemiah tells us: Then I prayed to the God of heaven, and I answered the king, “If it pleases the king and if your servant has found favor in his sight, let him send me to the city in Judah where my ancestors are buried so that I can rebuild it.” After which Nehemiah asked for three things: time off, letters from the king for safety, and the provisions needed to build the gates. Then Nehemiah wrote: And because the gracious hand of my God was on me, the king granted my requests. (Neh. 2)

What about Mary, the mother of Jesus who could have been stoned to death for embracing God’s call, and who endured the public crucifixion of her son without knowing that resurrection was coming? Or what about the disciples who left everything they had, everything they knew to follow Jesus? What about Paul who was beaten, imprisoned, and constantly persecuted because God had called him to carry His Kingdom message to the Gentiles? What about Elisabeth Elliott who returned to the tribe that killed her husband to show them what God’s grace and forgiveness look like in practice? What about Corrie Ten Boom and her family who were discovered hiding Jews in their home and were sentenced to a concentration camp? She survived and her stories of love, of forgiveness, and of healing have affected many of us.

All of these people were called by God to follow him. They chose to believe. They chose to trust God and not lean on their own understanding. He calls each of us to do the same.

Are there absolutes? Yes. In the words of Beth Moore from her Bible study Believing God:

  1. God is who He says He is.
  2. God can do what He says He can do.
  3. I am who God says I am.
  4. I can do all things through Christ.
  5. I’m believing God.

As we choose to do life God’s way–to follow him into things that make no logical sense, we experience His mysterious and miraculous ways. Does following God this way come with challenges? Yes. None of the above-mentioned people had a smooth journey. Jesus tells us that in this world we will have trouble but to take heart, (he) has overcome the world. (John 16:33)

So, as is always the case, we get to choose which kingdom we want to live in: the kingdom of this world in which we lean on our own understanding– which typically leads to cooperating with harmful man-made systems and structures–or to live in the counter-cultural kingdom of heaven, even knowing that we will face opposition, just as Christ did.

The writer of Proverbs knew which one was better and encouraged us to:

Trust in the Lord completely,
and do not rely on your own opinions.
With all your heart rely on him to guide you,
and he will lead you in every decision you make.
 Become intimate with him in whatever you do,
                                       and he will lead you wherever you go.                                              (Proverbs 3:5-6 TPT)

Lord, teach me to trust.

–Luanne

Many of the stories Luanne highlighted above are the ones Pastor John referenced in his message on Sunday. He asked us to wrestle with some of the questions that naturally arise when we consider these stories. I would like to take some time to elaborate on some of those questions and give us all some space to connect them with what Luanne taught us about what “understanding” means in relation to trust. She expanded Proverbs 3:5 to include a more comprehensive explanation of what we are being exhorted to do in that verse. She wrote,

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own wisdom, knowledge, meaning, do not stand upon or under your own thoughts…“

Keep that in mind as we explore the questions Pastor John put before us on Sunday.

Before we dive into the questions, I want to highlight something John said that my experience as a human being on planet earth absolutely testifies to as truth. He said that our most challenging times often go hand-in-hand with our deepest learning. I wish this were not often always true. I wish expansive learning could happen during seasons of ease and comfortability. But as I reflect on my life, there’s no denying that the seasons of growth I’ve experienced have been inextricably connected to the hardest, most uncertain, least comfortable things I’ve walked through. It seems to be how we grow, how we learn best. But if we look to ourselves, to our own experiences, and through the lenses we’ve developed rather than through the eyes of the one we follow, we will struggle to learn anything new at all. Let’s consider these questions together as we seek to be people who are growing in our ability to trust our God, especially when our understanding fails us…

Can we trust—can we stand still—when destruction is chasing us down? It’s important as we consider this question to check where we are when we are standing still. When we are walking where God is leading and all forms of enemies are chasing after us, God sometimes asks us to be still while he fights for us. This is not to be confused with the attitude we saw in the Israelites, who basically said to Moses, “Leave us alone! We want to stay here. We don’t want to move!” (I’m paraphrasing.) This kind of “being still” is not the same as walking where God leads—even when “where” is a total mystery—and staying still in the midst of what looks like imminent destruction. I’m reminded of Psalm 23:5, where the psalmist writes, “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies…” (NIV) That is the kind of being still, the kind of trust, God asks of us. The kind that pulls up a chair to the table he sets for us even when it looks like we are surrounded and our own understanding tells us we should be afraid and run away.

What about when God asks us to do something that sounds absurd, illogical, and not at all strategic? When he asks us to do something in a way that it’s never been done before, what do we do? Do we trust him enough to walk out into uncharted territory, following his voice alone? Can we do that when what God says doesn’t line up with what other voices around us are saying, especially if those voices are coming from people we have journeyed with for a long time? What if those friends, leaders, family members cannot bring themselves to walk with us into the unknown that God is beckoning us toward, and we have to step out on our own, without the support of those we have trusted in the past? Can we follow the still, small voice then? When loss and grief press into the fabric of our hearts? How do we loosen our grip on our own understanding and cling to our all-knowing Guide in these painfully challenging moments when we feel vulnerable and alone?

Will we choose to trust when what God is asking seems impossible, when we are very much afraid to ask or believe for the big thing– can we trust him then? Impossible is a word that only exists when we lean on our own understanding. Nothing is impossible for God. If something seems impossible and we cannot seem to break through that wall into trust, that is a clear indication that we are standing upon or under our own thoughts. Fear is a normal response to being asked to do something we have never done before. But fear and trust are not mutually exclusive here… And we don’t have to move from fear to courage before we step out in trust. Trust moves us to take the step even while we are feeling afraid—that’s courage.

And… it’s always worth it. Yes, I said always. Not immediately, but eventually, the lessons we learn when we take a step toward God are always worth the struggles we face along the way. Being willing to trust in the midst of the hard, the confusing, the grief-stricken moments of our lives not only evidences our trust in God—these times broaden and deepen our trust as well.

Willingness is a non-negotiable on the road to trust. And true willingness doesn’t give us the option of choosing in each circumstance whether we will be willing or unwilling to agree to what God asks of us. Real willingness says yes long before God asks the question, and maintains that yes, regardless of how treacherous and tedious the road becomes. This kind of willingness—the only kind that counts as authentic—is born from hearts that trust that our God is who he says he is, as Luanne referenced earlier. If we believe that, then we believe that he IS love. He IS mercy. He IS only, always good. Knowing who he is, we can give him our yes before he asks us to move and take that first step once he does speak.

The road may be harder than we ever imagined. The losses along the way will shock us and leave us feeling gutted. And when that happens, if we try to stand upon or under our own thoughts, we won’t know how we can possibly go on. But, if we trust our God every step of the way, we will learn. We will learn about who he is, who we are in him, and how to live in the flow of his kingdom rather than the fading kingdoms of this world.

Pastor John left us with Psalm 25 at the end of his message on Sunday, and it seems like the perfect way to wrap this up here as well. May this become our prayer as we look to our God to teach us how to trust, how to love, how to walk with him his way…

Forever I will lift up my soul into your presence, Lord.
Be there for me, God, for I keep trusting in you.
Don’t allow my foes to gloat over me or
the shame of defeat to overtake me.
For how could anyone be disgraced
when he has entwined his heart with you?
But they will all be defeated and ashamed
when they harm the innocent.
Lord, direct me throughout my journey
so I can experience your plans for my life.
Reveal the life-paths that are pleasing to you.
 

Escort me along the way; take me by the hand and teach me.
For you are the God of my increasing salvation;
I have wrapped my heart into yours!

(Psalm 25:1-5, TPT)

–Laura

 

2020 Perspective–Looking Back

“The primary freedom we have is always the choice of where we will place our minds.”  Dallas Willard

Ready or not, we will soon step into a new year–and a new decade. 2019 is coming to a close, and 2020 is about to begin. I don’t know how your year was, but this girl is raising a hallelujah at the thought of leaving the last twelve months behind!

Well, sort of.

I was. Until I realized that my battle-scarred, weary self didn’t see any of 2019’s hard coming twelve months ago. And that makes me a bit wary about throwing 2020 a welcome party…

Pastor John’s message on Sunday came out of Philippians 3:12-14. I am including two translations of those verses below–J.B. Phillips, the one John used, and The Passion Translation. Take a minute to read the words and chew on them a bit.

J.B. Phillips: “Yet, my brothers, I do not consider myself to have “arrived”, spiritually, nor do I consider myself already perfect. But I keep going on, grasping ever more firmly that purpose for which Christ grasped me. My brothers, I do not consider myself to have fully grasped it even now. But I do concentrate on this: I leave the past behind and with hands outstretched to whatever lies ahead I go straight for the goal—my reward the honour of being called by God in Christ.”

TPT: “I admit that I haven’t yet acquired the absolute fullness that I’m pursuing, but I run with passion into his abundance so that I may reach the purpose that Jesus Christ has called me to fulfill and wants me to discover. I don’t depend on my own strength to accomplish this; however I do have one compelling focus: I forget all of the past as I fasten my heart to the future instead. I run straight for the divine invitation of reaching the heavenly goal and gaining the victory-prize through the anointing of Jesus.”

Pastor John shared with us that looking back can prepare us to move forward. He also warned us that how and why we look back matters. He advised us to look back in order to learn and to remember. We’ve written about the word remember before, how it means to stay connected to, that it’s antonym is not to forget, but rather to dismember. He advised us to avoid the kind of looking back in which we are concentrating on, dwelling on, or longing for where we’ve been. Those lingering glances, fixating on what was, can keep us from living. It can be a tricky balance, remembering and learning from our pasts, but not dwelling on or longing for what used to be. This can be especially difficult if we’ve faced a loss, or many losses–whether the physical loss of a person or relationship, or a circumstantial loss, like a relocation, a career change, or an emotional move.

John shared a quote from writer and theologian Frederick Buechner related to looking back in order to move forward. I couldn’t find the exact quote, but I did come across this one:

“The time is ripe for looking back over the day, the week, the year, and trying to figure out where we have come from and where we are going to, for sifting through the things we have done and the things we have left undone for a clue to who we are and who, for better or worse, we are becoming. But again and again we avoid the long thoughts….We cling to the present out of wariness of the past. And why not, after all? We get confused. We need such escape as we can find. But there is a deeper need yet, I think, and that is the need—not all the time, surely, but from time to time—to enter that still room within us all where the past lives on as a part of the present, where the dead are alive again, where we are most alive ourselves to turnings and to where our journeys have brought us. The name of the room is Remember—the room where with patience, with charity, with quietness of heart, we remember consciously to remember the lives we have lived.”
― Frederick Buechner, A Room Called Remember: Uncollected Pieces

If I’m honest, when I read in our passage, “I leave the past behind and with hands outstretched to whatever lies ahead I go straight for the goal…”  from the J.B. Phillips translation and, “I do have one compelling focus: I forget all of the past as I fasten my heart to the future instead,” from The Passion Translation, I don’t feel a lot of excitement. I feel a bit of trepidation. A bit leaning towards a lot at times. I am someone who tends to be oriented toward the past. Nostalgia and sentimentality have always been part of how I look at life. Seeing the world and my life in this way also keeps me keenly aware of the pain of the past. Sometimes, that makes me want to run forward with abandon–but not usually. More often, I succumb to fears that the future could hold worse pain than the past. My past might be hard, but at least I know what I’ll see when I look into those memories. The thought of moving forward with arms outstretched toward whatever might lie ahead? Fastening my heart to an unknown future? These things can feel dangerous to a fragile, weary heart. I’m not typically one who fears change or looks ahead with cynicism and pessimism. But I am telling you–2019 had it out for some of us. 

That said, when I look at these verses alongside Buechner’s quote, it settles my insides a bit. His words read like an invitation to discover both who we are and who we’re becoming by way of remembering who we were and how far we’ve come. He invites us to step into the room where we are most alive to where our journeys have brought us. In remembering, like Pastor John talked about, we can see where God was in the midst of everything we’ve walked through. Remembering shows us how far we’ve come, and highlights the One who’s carried us all along.

This kind of remembering, it makes our passage easier to get excited about. Because it’s impossible to look back at the ways God has shown up without our faith being stirred to believe that he will continue to be that same God for us and with us–regardless of what our tomorrows hold.

As I pondered the message, a few other verses and some song lyrics came to mind:

“Do not remember the former things,
Nor consider the things of old.
Behold, I will do a new thing,
Now it shall spring forth;
Shall you not know it?
I will even make a road in the wilderness
And rivers in the desert.

–Isaiah 43:18-19 NKJV

Then He who sat on the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new.”

–Revelation 21:5a NKJV 

 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.

2 Corinthians 5:17 NKJV

Behold the Father’s heart
The mystery He lavishes on us
As deep cries out to deep
Oh, how desperately He wants us…

Behold His holy Son
The Lion and the Lamb given to us
The Word became a man
That my soul should know its Savior…

Behold I have a friend
The Spirit breathing holy fire within
My ever present help
Speaking truth when I can’t find it…

(Behold, Hillsong Worship)

I couldn’t get away from the word “behold” as I prayed through John’s sermon and what to write about. I spent some time leaning into the concept of “beholding” and what it means a couple of months ago. So I went back to look at some of my personal writing to try to connect the dots. This is what I found:

 “When did you last take the time to behold?

To behold a thing is to go beyond the passive seeing, past the every day looking that happens by default.

To behold is to be held within a moment…

When we behold something, our entire person is engaged in the seeing. The word itself means to mentally perceive, take heed of, experience, care for, contemplate intently, regard, observe, consider, partake of, discern–it takes us far beyond what we perceive with our eyes.

Sometimes we don’t realize we’ve been held in a moment until that moment passes…

But to truly behold is to regard with intention and care all of the things–not only the beautiful. It takes courage to behold the other things, namely ourselves

Why do I only pause to acknowledge and behold the beautiful, as though the rest is undeserving of being named?

If it is in the moment of beholding that we find ourselves truly held, then why would we avert our gaze from the moments that leave us most in need of an embrace?

There is beauty to behold even in the dark, even in the broken, and if we’re willing to look straight at it, to engage what we see with all the parts of ourselves, we’ll find that the beauty we encounter there will change us. And as we courageously behold, we will find ourselves held.”

As I reread my own words, I realized that the key to engaging in the past, present, and future in a healthy way just might be taking the time to behold. To behold our past–the hard AND the beautiful–is to observe it, to contemplate what it had to offer and to teach us, to honor it and find ourselves held within it as we remember. We have to look at it with courage in order to be changed by it. The same goes for our present. Staying awake to the moments of our lives, pausing to take them in and to discern the deeper meaning is another way that we learn. And we have to also be willing to look up when we hear the “Behold!” that beckons us into our future.

Each of our journeys is a dance. There are rarely either/or options. More often, we have the opportunity to engage in a both/and way of being in the world. Beholding offers us a way to look back in a way that can propel us into our future.

We need to know, though, that there is a massive difference between beholding something for a moment and allowing something to take hold of us. Pastor John asked us to consider what has taken hold of us, what might be growing roots in us. If our answer is anything but Jesus, we’re in danger of not being able to move forward.

I wrote these words as I prepared to make the transition from summer into fall, and I’m asking the same questions again now as we approach a New Year:

“What am I refusing to fully let go of as the next season presses in on me? What weight from yesterday am I carrying? Is there something I’m holding onto that will inhibit new growth in the days ahead? How do I stay connected to the learning, to the beauty and the process of seasons past and move forward fully yielded to the process?”

May we all be willing to ask ourselves hard questions, and willing to answer them honestly. May we behold our yesterdays and our current circumstances with the intention of learning and remembering how we’ve made it this far. And may we step with courage, with arms boldly outstretched toward whatever comes next because we have a God who is Emmanuel–God with us. He is the one who goes behind and before us, the one who calls us into our future and asks us to trust that he will walk with us and carry us–no matter what that future holds.

As Dallas Willard articulated so well, “The primary freedom we have is always the choice of where we will place our minds.” We get to decide if we will behold and learn from or dwell on and long for what once was. We have to look back in order to learn–but we don’t have to carry what we find or let it take hold of us. We get to choose. May we choose well as we move into this new year. For those of us who had a brutally hard year and those of us finishing the best year of our lives, I pray these words over our next year, from the song I referenced earlier:

Light up this broken heart and light my way
‘Til my time on earth is done
Oh, Holy Spirit
Breathe in me like Kingdom come

Oh, Holy Spirit
Let Your work in me be done…

Let your work in us be done…

–Laura

There is always the possibility of newness when one is in a relationship with God. Each new second can bring a new beginning. Each new day. Each new week. Each new year.

The new year, of course, is the time when everyone is focused on change, on resolutions, on how things are going to be different from this point forward, so I sit here and type on New Year’s Eve day, the end of 2019, the beginning of  2020, with lots of mixed emotions. 2019 was a difficult year on almost every front in my world. Yes, there were moments of beauty: a precious new granddaughter, even a miracle that I saw up close as God healed one of my children who could have died or had limbs amputated, but there was also a lot of hard–really hard, and some of that goes right with me into 2020. So, like Laura, I sit on the cusp of this year with some trepidation.

I’m not the type to put too much emphasis on resolutions or New Year’s celebrations; however, as I typed out the word “resolution” above, I was struck by its two components: re and solution. Re means “again” or “again and again”. Solution comes from the Latin word “solvere” which means “to loosen (solve)” (etymonline.com). To make a New Year’s resolution means to try to loosen something, to try to solve something again. In light of our verses from Philippians, this takes on new meaning for me this morning.

As Pastor John shared his message, he brought up a strange account from the book of Genesis about “forgetting” the past. It’s the account of Lot’s wife being turned into a pillar of salt as she looked back while fleeing her city. I won’t even begin to try to explain that; however, Pastor John said that her looking back wasn’t like a glance in a rearview mirror; it was a longing for. She didn’t recognize that she was being saved as she left the past behind. She set her heart and her mind on her past and longed for it. Metaphorically speaking, being turned into a pillar of salt meant that she was stuck, there would be no new for her, her longing for the past left her immobile, unable to move forward.

As I pondered that thought, my mind went to something that I learned in counseling a few years ago. My counselor used an illustration in talking about our pasts–she said to think of our memories like our own personal DVD library. The stories that make up the library are our memories and will be part of our story forever.  We can remember them as part of the overall collection–one story of many, or we can choose to put one in the DVD player, press play, and watch it over and over. In other words, the Dallas Willard quote that Laura wrote above “The primary freedom we have is always the choice of where we will place our minds.”  is key to whether we stay stuck or move forward.

The Buechner quote is also key: “The time is ripe for looking back over the day, the week, the year, and trying to figure out where we have come from and where we are going to, for sifting through the things we have done and the things we have left undone for a clue to who we are and who, for better or worse, we are becoming.”  

We are all becoming something–all of us being transformed–but in what way?

Looking back is necessary, but “living” back is detrimental. Looking back allows us to find healing, to find re-solutions as we loosen ourselves from the old we are tied to, and looking back allows us to remember God’s faithfulness and see how He’s changed us over time. Remembering God’s faithfulness gives us hope for the future because we know that God will be with us.  Paul, in this passage in Philippians, is remembering what he had let go of and the call he was pursuing. That type of remembering was his catalyst for moving forward.

As is the case with lots of scripture passages, depending on which lens we look through, there can be different takeaways. Our passage (Phil 3:12-14) in the NIV translations reads:

 Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead,  I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. 

Quick breakdown:

Not that I have obtained all this or have already arrived at my goal: back up a little bit in chapter 3 and Paul is talking about how he tried to earn righteousness before God in his former life as a devout, circumcised Jewish man and discovered that it didn’t work. Paul had learned that our right standing with God (and others) comes through faith in Jesus alone and through that faith, allowing God to work in us so we become like Jesus in his suffering, death, and resurrection. He was forgetting (letting go of) living a religiously law-based life yet knew that he had not become 100% like Jesus.

I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me: What did Jesus “take hold” of Paul for? If we look at Acts 9:15 we learn that Paul (Saul)  was “a chosen vessel of Mine to bear My name before Gentiles, kings, and the children of Israel” and that Paul would suffer greatly as he carried out his mission. 

So when Paul says that he’s not there yet, that he hasn’t taken hold of it yet, he’s talking about becoming like Jesus. Jesus took hold of Paul so that Paul would take hold of Jesus and become like Jesus, through faith, from the inside out. 

So when Paul says that he is forgetting what is behind, he’s talking about being a slave to the law, to a behavior-based attempt to be in relationship with God. He’s pressing forward to become more like Christ as he fulfills his mission to carry the name and ways of Jesus to Gentiles, kings, and children of Israel,

In the original language, the word “heavenward” does not exist. Paul’s prize is not talking about going to heaven. Young’s Literal Translation words it like this: I pursue for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. High calling can be translated as “high invitation” or “high vocation”. The “high calling” of God in Christ Jesus is to become like Jesus–to die to self, to allow the Holy Spirit to live the resurrection life of Jesus through us (the same Spirit who raised Christ from the dead and lives in us (Romans 6:10)), and to pursue that high calling, full of faith,  with everything we are, no matter what our earthly circumstances look like. Paul was in a Roman prison when he wrote Philippians, yet was still pursuing his holy invitation. 

What was the goal of the invitation Paul received from Jesus? To bear the name of Jesus, to carry the name of Jesus wherever he went–even prison. 

Is that any different from the invitation God has given to us? 

Romanian theologian and Pauline scholar Corneliu Constantineanu, writes: “In stark contrast [to the ways of Rome] the apostle Paul announces the real good news, the gospel–God’s action to put the world right, to bring his peace and justice to this beautiful yet fallen and corrupted world. He has accomplished this, not through violence and war but through the self-giving life of Jesus Christ. This is the astonishing story we find in Paul’s letter to the Philippians–the significant and wonderful yet costly journey of God’s redeeming the world and bringing his peace and justice for the entire creation. Jesus, not Caesar, brings peace and justice! This is the good news of the gospel that we read in Philippians.”

This is what Paul had given his life to pursue–Paul’s self-giving life, the prize he was after, the race he was running–was about letting everyone know that Jesus brings wholeness (salvation), Jesus brings peace, Jesus changes individuals and Jesus changes the world. 

As we head into 2020, let’s look back to see what we are becoming in order to forget the things that have not made us more like Jesus, or to abandon the ways that we have not carried Jesus to those around us, or to let go of the ways we have not died to ourselves.

Let’s re-solution our lives by beholding God–Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and allowing God to transform us as we sit in stillness before Him, allowing Him to do deep work in us. Let’s pursue the high calling, the invitation of God, to join him in his mission to bring the ways of the kingdom of heaven to earth (May your kingdom come and your will be done on earth as it is in heaven). Let’s not get stuck in the past and beat ourselves up when we don’t get it right, but confess and move on into Christlikeness as we surrender our ways to his ways–even if it includes suffering.

None of us have attained it yet, but is becoming like Jesus the desire of our hearts? It’s a goal worth pursuing.

Laura ended her portion of the blog with these words:

Let your work in us be done…

May that be our prayer and our desire for 2020–no matter what comes.

–Luanne

Related image

See the Signs: The Sign of Sight

Since Laura and I took last week off, I’m going to touch briefly on last week’s scripture passage because it is relevant to this week’s message. Pastor John’s passage was Mark 8: 13-21. To sum it up, the disciples were concerned because, with the exception of one loaf, they had forgotten to bring bread on their journey. While they were thinking about their lack of bread Jesus warned them to beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod. The disciples were confused and thought Jesus was mad because they hadn’t brought bread. Jesus, who knew what they were thinking said:“Why all this fussing over forgetting to bring bread? Do you still not see or understand what I say to you? Are your hearts still hard? You have good eyes, yet you still don’t see, and you have good ears, yet you still don’t hear, neither do you remember.” (Mark 8:17-18 TPT) Jesus asked them to remember when he fed the crowds of 5000+ and 4000+, asked them to remember how many leftovers there were and then asked them “…how is it that you still don’t get it?” (8:21) . 

The yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod that Jesus mentions represent two oppressive systems. Yeast changes the composition of whatever it is introduced to. In the fermentation process, whether it be the making of bread or the making of beer, once yeast is introduced it works its way through the entire substance and changes its chemical structure. The disciples and Jesus had experienced quite a few unpleasant encounters with the Pharisees who continued to question Jesus’ authority and sow seeds of doubt, believing (and teaching) that their oppressive behavior-based system was the way of God. Their yeast represents man-made religious systems that have detoured from God’s loving heart and desire that his followers join him in his mission to bring the Kingdom of Heaven to earth. Man-made religious systems create hierarchies where some are in power and lord it over everyone else. Man-made religious systems oppress people. Man-made religious systems forget that God desires that we each use our gifts to introduce His ways and work toward the restoration and flourishing of all. Man-made religious systems portray a mean God. Man-made religious systems lead to arrogance, self-righteousness, judgment and “othering”.

The yeast of Herod represents the political realm and worldly power. One needs only to read the headlines to see how divisive, destructive and polarizing it can be when we align our hearts with political structures. The hate, the “othering”, the inability to see human beings without attaching labels and preconceived notions in regards to them, the mistreatment of some for the benefit of others…it’s toxic yeast changing our very nature.  Both religion and politics can have a tremendous influence on us. We are steeped in these systems and many times don’t recognize it, so we must be wise, allow the Holy Spirit to show us what we need to see, and separate ourselves from man-made systems that seek to oppress. The ways of the Kingdom of Heaven run counter to the kingdoms of this world. It is very easy to be infected by the yeast of the systems we grew up in. Do we see that? Are we willing to let Jesus open things up and show us something new–or–like the disciples, are we too hard-hearted to get it?

This week our passages are Mark 7:31-37, and Mark 8:22-26.  In Mark 7, Jesus heals a deaf and mute man.  In Mark 8, Jesus heals a blind man. The way Mark lays out the timeline, Jesus heals the deaf man, feeds the crowd of 4000+, has an unpleasant encounter with the Pharisees which leads to the above conversation in the boat, and then he heals the blind man. There are interesting parallels in these two healings that bookend this segment of scripture,

  1. Both men were brought to Jesus by others.
  2. Both men were brought to Jesus because they had physical limitations.
  3. Both men were brought to be touched and blessed by Jesus.
  4. Jesus pulls both men aside, away from the crowd, and gets one on one with each of them.
  5. Jesus uses his own saliva in both of these healings.

One man was deaf/mute, the other was blind. Isaiah prophesied centuries before that blind eyes will be open and deaf ears will hear… (35:5). These healings were more than just healings…

After Jesus healed the deaf/mute man, and right before he healed the blind man, he said to his disciples  “You have good eyes, yet you still don’t see, and you have good ears, yet you still don’t hear, neither do you remember.” 

Would Jesus say the same to us? Everything that Jesus does is nuanced and multi-layered. Yes, two men were miraculously healed by Jesus, but is that all there is to the story? Could it be that as Jesus fulfills Isaiah’s Messianic prophecy, he is using these men as signs that the Kingdom of Heaven is right here and that he is the Messiah? He is giving his followers the opportunity to recognize that his ways are different from the ways of the Pharisees and of Herod; his ways are the ways of the Kingdom of God. Do we see? Do we hear? Do we remember?

I find it beautiful that in both of these accounts Jesus pulls the men away from the crowd to be with them one on one.  If we look at Jesus’ miracles, they were never for the purpose of showing off–they were always on behalf of people who were in need–and he responded with compassion to the situation at hand. When the Pharisees wanted Jesus to show off for them to “prove” that he had authority to perform miracles, Jesus sighed deeply and walked away (Mark 8:12). Yes, his power was a sign of the Kingdom of Heaven, but his demonstrations of power were driven by his compassion, his love, his concern for all of us who are like sheep without a shepherd. Compassion, kindness, unconditional love, unconditional forgiveness, all the fruit of the Holy Spirit are signs of His Kingdom on earth. Our Savior is powerful and pointed and gentle and kind. Do we see? Do we hear? Do we remember?

I wonder, in the case of the deaf/mute man, if the voice of Jesus was the first voice he ever heard?  Mark 7:34 tells us that Jesus “gazed into heaven, sighed deeply, and spoke to the man’s ears and tongue, “Ethpathakh,” which is Aramaic for “Open up, now!

In The Passion Translation of the Bible, the footnote from Mark 7:34 says: “The phrase “open up” is the same wording used in the Hebrew of Isa. 61:1 “Open the prison doors.” It furthermore refers to the opening of the eyes of the blind and the ears of the deaf.  

Hmmm. Does this remind anyone else of Luke 4:18 when Jesus, at the very beginning of his ministry read from the scroll of Isaiah in the synagogue: “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free…”  Jesus opens prison doors, sets captives free, restores sight to the blind… He opens things up. He changes things. Do we see? Do we hear? Do we remember?

In the healing of the blind man, “Jesus led him, as his sighted guide, outside the village. He placed his saliva on the man’s eyes and covered them with his hands”  (Mark 8:23 TPT). Again, the footnotes from The Passion Translation give us deeper insight into what is happening here. It says of verse 23, that the word “eyes’is not the common word for “eyes.” The Greek word omma can refer to both physical and spiritual sight”. And of the actual healing process itself “The Aramaic can be translated “Jesus placed his hands over his eyes and brought light.”

This healing account is different from any other in scripture because it happened in phases. The first time Jesus touched the man’s eyes, he only received partial sight. Jesus touched him a second time and he was able to see clearly, which according to Strong’s concordance literally means he could see “at a distance, and clearly”. Sometimes we get partial sight; the Apostle Paul said that’ “For now, we can only see a dim and blurry picture of things… I realize that everything I know is only part of the big picture. But one day, when Jesus arrives, we will see clearly, face-to-face.” (1st Cor. 13:12 The Voice) Are we willing to let Jesus, our sighted guide, touch us over and over, as many times as it takes so that we can see clearly? Are we willing to admit that every revelation we receive is part of a bigger picture, a greater work of God, a portion? Are we humble enough to keep seeking, knocking, asking, because we know that there is more and that none of us have all the answers? Are we willing to examine the lenses we grew up with and test them to see if they hold up to Truth? Are we willing to see through another’s eyes, and wrestle with his/her understanding of God, of salvation, of Jesus–removing our lenses and studying the gospels to see what is gold and what is stubble–recognizing traditions taught by man, versus what is actually there? Are we willing to soften our hard hearts and see, hear, remember? Jesus, the light of the world, is willing to touch us as many times as we allow so that we can see his light and his ways clearly.

In both of these healing encounters, Jesus opened things up. In putting these three accounts together, Jesus warns us to be careful about being influenced by human power structures, whether they are religious systems or political. He desires to pull us aside, to open our ears to hear his voice, open our eyes (both physical and spiritual) to see what he sees. He is our sighted guide. He brings us light. He leads us gently. He shows us who he is and what his Kingdom is about. He desires that we be like him, setting the oppressed free, and serving the people of the world with a heart of love, of compassion, of humility (“I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.” John 13:35).

Do we see? Do we hear? Do we remember?

–Luanne

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”  Antoine de Saint-Exupery

I chose these words as my Senior quote. This line sits beside my picture in the yearbook that marked both an ending and a new beginning. The words came to my mind as I listened to Pastor John’s message on Sunday, and again this morning as I prayed through what direction to go in my writing. I don’t remember exactly why I chose this quote as a conflicted yet wide-eyed-with-wonder 17-year-old; I just know that it resonated deeply with my heart. I didn’t know that I would come back to it again and again as I grew from childhood into adulthood. It has reminded me that things are often not what they appear to be on the surface, that there are depths and nuance and mystery undetectable with our physical eyes. In moments where I’ve been tempted to pass judgment based on what is visible, these words have challenged me to consult the eyes of my heart first–the view is often different from there.

As I ponder the quote now, I find myself adding a few words that spring from what I’ve found to be true as I’ve grown in my own ability to see. I would say something like, “It is only with a heart whose eyes have been enlightened by the Spirit that one can see rightly; what is essential can be seen no other way.”

A few weeks ago, I wrote the following:

“And [I pray] that the eyes of your heart [the very center and core of your being] may be enlightened [flooded with light by the Holy Spirit], so that you will know and cherish the hope [the divine guarantee, the confident expectation] to which He has called you, the riches of His glorious inheritance in the saints (God’s people),  and [so that you will begin to know] what the immeasurable and unlimited and surpassing greatness of His [active, spiritual] power is in us who believe.” (Ephesians 1:18-19, AMP)

I love that the Amplified Bible defines the eyes of our hearts as “the very center and core of your being.” Keeping this part of us open is explained as being flooded with light by the Holy Spirit… If we live with the eyes of our hearts squeezed shut, we will miss out on what is possible in God’s power. We need to be open to the movement of the Spirit, open to the signs God gives us along the way so that we can continue journeying with hope on the hard days. We need to see with our hearts so that we can believe all things are possible.

The eyes of our hearts… It would be great if, when we each meet Jesus for the first time, a one-and-done opening of our heart-eyes was part of the deal. Can you imagine being able to see clearly and completely from that point forward? It would change everything!

But that’s not how it works. This seeing, this opening, it’s a gradual process. That’s what makes the two-part healing of the blind man at Betheseda so relatable. Luanne reminded us of 1 Corinthians 13:12,

“For now, we can only see a dim and blurry picture of things… I realize that everything I know is only part of the big picture. But one day, when Jesus arrives, we will see clearly, face-to-face.” (The Voice)

What we know and see is only a sliver of the whole. In light of this truth, Luanne asked us some questions:

Are we willing to let Jesus, our sighted guide, touch us over and over, as many times as it takes so that we can see clearly? Are we willing to admit that every revelation we receive is part of a bigger picture, a greater work of God, a portion? Are we humble enough to keep seeking, knocking, asking, because we know that there is more and that none of us have all the answers?

Are we willing? Willing to, first, come to Jesus? Even if we have to be brought to him in the arms of someone else? And then, are we willing to let him touch our blind spots? Those places where we haven’t yet been enlightened by the Spirit? Luanne also asked if we are humble. Humility and willingness go hand in hand. It takes humility to admit that we have a limited field of sight and that our understanding is incomplete. And in that place of humility, we can choose to be willing to be led by “our sighted guide”, as Luanne called him.

Willingness and humility are not difficult–if our motivation is the same thing that moved Jesus. That motivator is love. If love is what drives us, being humble and willing are natural fruits of our endeavors. Luanne and I have both referenced 1 Corinthians 13:12. I was drawn to go back and read all of chapter 13, the chapter often called the “love chapter”. I’ve included it in its entirety below, to remind us what love actually looks like. Pastor John said on Sunday that to be “godly”, to be like God, is to be loving. Because God is love (1 John 4:8, 16). No other attribute more fully captures his nature. And Jesus says the world will know us by this same love…

If I were to speak with eloquence in earth’s many languages, and in the heavenly tongues of angels, yet I didn’t express myself with love, my words would be reduced to the hollow sound of nothing more than a clanging cymbal. And if I were to have the gift of prophecy with a profound understanding of God’s hidden secrets, and if I possessed unending supernatural knowledge, and if I had the greatest gift of faith that could move mountains, but have never learned to love, then I am nothing. And if I were to be so generous as to give away everything I owned to feed the poor, and to offer my body to be burned as a martyr, without the pure motive of love, I would gain nothing of value. Love is large and incredibly patient. Love is gentle and consistently kind to all. It refuses to be jealous when blessing comes to someone else. Love does not brag about one’s achievements nor inflate its own importance. Love does not traffic in shame and disrespect, nor selfishly seek its own honor. Love is not easily irritated or quick to take offense. Love joyfully celebrates honesty and finds no delight in what is wrong. Love is a safe place of shelter, for it never stops believing the best for others. Love never takes failure as defeat, for it never gives up. Love never stops loving. It extends beyond the gift of prophecy, which eventually fades away. It is more enduring than tongues, which will one day fall silent. Love remains long after words of knowledge are forgotten. Our present knowledge and our prophecies are but partial, but when love’s perfection arrives, the partial will fade away. When I was a child, I spoke about childish matters, for I saw things like a child and reasoned like a child. But the day came when I matured, and I set aside my childish ways. For now we see but a faint reflection of riddles and mysteries as though reflected in a mirror, but one day we will see face-to-face. My understanding is incomplete now, but one day I will understand everything, just as everything about me has been fully understood. Until then, there are three things that remain: faith, hope, and love—yet love surpasses them all. So above all else, let love be the beautiful prize for which you run.

 (1 Corinthians 13, TPT)

This kind of love is what motivated Jesus. If it’s what motivates us, we will have to continue to go to Jesus, to ask him to touch our blind spots and teach us to see the way that he sees. We’ll have to let him open us up–our eyes, our ears, our hearts. Luanne and I both used variations of the words “open up” many times in this post. We both know how hard it can be to open up. It can feel so much easier to live closed off, withdrawn, with eyes and ears closed to the world around us. It can feel safer. To open up is to be vulnerable. And being vulnerable feels scary. But there is no way to embody the kind of love we just read about above if we’re not willing to be opened up by Jesus. Because love can’t be poured out of a closed vessel.

May we each have the courage to ask Jesus to heal our vision–layer by layer–so that we can see the world through his eyes–eyes that see what could be and what will be when wholeness and restoration come to set all things right. May we embrace the humble willingness that leads to a love that spills from our open hearts. And may we remember that for now, we only see in part, but our sighted guide sees the whole–and he’ll be faithful to keep bringing sight to us until the day we also see in full.

–Laura

A Matter of Principle: The Mustard Seed

I’ve loved every week of this series. Seeds, sowing generously, kingdom growth… Every week has been enlightening and captivating in its own way. Sunday’s, though, our final message in this series, is my favorite.

We looked at Mark 4:30-34:

 Jesus asked, “How can I describe the Kingdom of God? What story shall I use to illustrate it? It is like a tiny mustard seed! Though this is one of the smallest of seeds, yet it grows to become one of the largest of plants, with long branches where birds can build their nests and be sheltered.” He used many such illustrations to teach the people as much as they were ready to understand.  In fact, he taught only by illustrations in his public teaching, but afterwards, when he was alone with his disciples, he would explain his meaning to them. (The Living Bible)

Seeds don’t grow until they’re planted.

A seed in a packet won’t sprout. Growth can’t happen until the seed is planted, until the conditions are right.

We wrote last week about mystery, and how seeds are a bit of a mystery, too. I leaned into that mystery and read a little bit about seeds today. I knew that seeds, in order to grow, need water and oxygen, and—in most cases—light. I learned that the temperature has to be right for seeds to sprout, too. When a seed is exposed to the right conditions, it begins to take in water and oxygen through the seed coat, or the shell. The cells, when fed properly in the right conditions, start to get bigger. Once they get big enough, roots break down through the shell, followed by a shoot that contains the stem and leaves that grows upward.

Some shells are harder than others though, and have to be broken down before the water and oxygen can get through them to the seed inside. These seeds have to be soaked in the water and sometimes scratched before the outer shell will break down enough to let the air and water inside.

I also learned how seeds know which way is up, where to send the shoots. I’ve heard it said that plants are reaching for the light, and that’s why they grow upward. This is scientifically true after the shoot breaks the surface of the soil. But while the seed is buried in the soil, something else calls it upward. The seed senses the gravitational field and orients itself accordingly. (I have no idea how a seed senses anything, but science says this is how it happens, and I’ll chalk it up to the awesome mystery of how God created everything!) Reading about that made me curious about gravity and how in the world this whole process happens. I found this definition for “gravity”:

“Gravity is a force which tries to pull two objects toward each other. Anything which has mass also has a gravitational pull. The more massive an object is, the stronger its gravitational pull is.” (coolcosmos.ipac.caltech.edu)

We’ll try to unpack that a little more in a minute, but for now, back to the mustard seed…

Jesus finishes talking about the kingdom being like a farmer who scatters seeds generously and moves into these few verses about a tiny seed that grows into a very large plant. It seems a little odd, doesn’t it? It kind of feels like he’s shrinking back from a big, powerful concept into a more individual approach.

And he is…

And he’s not…

Pastor John broke his message down into three points:

  1. What is hidden is opened. He encouraged us to think back to when we first fell in love with Jesus, when that first kingdom seed was planted, when everything changed. He told us that Jesus planted that seed and he asked us, did we hide it? Or did we let it grow?

I can’t help but think about the conditions that have to be met before a seed opens up, breaks through its shell, and begins to grow. Seeds might be hidden within our hearts for a long time before conditions are right for them to sprout and grow. Storms may come and shake us, and seeds may lie dormant for a very long time. But the Grower, our God who constantly pursues us, is forever working in us, cultivating the soil that we give him access to. Some of the seeds in us might have really hard shells and may take extra care before they can absorb what they need to grow. That leads us to the next point…

  1. What is natural is supernatural. We see growth as a natural, organic process, but it’s so much bigger than we can grasp. When we think of growth as something that is natural, we get lost thinking about what we can do to grow the seeds. This kind of thinking is completely unproductive because the growth comes from the Grower. It’s the supernatural that brings the potential out of the small seed. The beautiful mystery is that natural people do supernatural things because the Grower imbues us with the ability to do so. Growth is not a product of our doing anything right. Our part is simply saying yes to the cultivation process. For some of us, that means being soaked in the living water a little longer before our hard shells can crack. Some of us may have a hard exterior that takes extra care to break down. And the Grower is here for that. For as long as it takes. The massive gravitational pull of the Grower connects to the gravitational pull contained in the seed and draws it out, toward himself, until that shoot breaks the surface and recognizes its own ability to grow toward the light.
  2. What is small is great. This point is my favorite because it so highlights the Jesus I know, the Jesus we meet all over the pages of scripture. All the way back in Zechariah 4:10, we read, “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin…” (NLT) And throughout the gospels, we see Jesus taking time to honor the small, the humble, the meek, the unseen, the child, the outcast—and he calls them blessed.

The first two points carry an individual message—the work has to be done within each of us before we can spread it to the world around us. The third point is where it all comes together, where we see why Jesus talked about the tiny mustard seed here. Highlighting the smallness of the seed made it clear to his hearers that size and quantity aren’t important factors when it comes to growth in his kingdom. The mustard seed illustrates that the small, disregarded things, the parts of us and our stories that we would label unimportant, dismissable, insignificant—even invisible—have kingdom potential when they’re exposed to the proper conditions and tended by the Grower. And it even goes beyond that—not only do the tiny things have potential; they are THE way he has chosen to bring his kingdom into our human reality!

The tiny mustard seed not only grows—it grows into the largest plant in the garden, because it’s the small things, the humble things, that become great. Jesus goes on to say that birds (plural) find shade and shelter within its branches. He doesn’t say which type of birds, he simply says that the tiny seed grows into a huge plant and that its branches provide shade and shelter for birds. This is what, according to Jesus, the kingdom is like.

Is this what the kingdom looks like in us? Has the seed that was sown into the soil of our hearts by Jesus grown beyond its tiny beginning? Have we allowed the Grower to cultivate it, and draw it up and out into the light? If we have, when it broke the surface, did we let it keep reaching toward the light, where it could grow big enough to provide shelter for many, or did we hold it back in the shadows of our preferences and prejudices where we could be selective about which birds could come perch on our branches?

Church!!! We. Have. To. Pay. Attention! The kingdom, Jesus’s way, is open to ALL. Period. There are no conditions to being welcomed into the kingdom. Everyone is invited, everyone is accepted, everyone is embraced. Everyone. If we disagree with that, we are being discipled by someone other than Jesus. Because he makes it abundantly clear. He invites anyone who is thirsty to come to him and drink of the water of life! He invites ALL who are weary and burdened to come and find their rest in him. He chose a bunch of misfits and social outcasts to be his closest companions. He saw beyond the outward behaviors to the systemic and cultural roots of people’s problems. He got close to the sick, the smelly, the unclean, the women, the children, the conservative and the liberal, the hypocrites, the faithful, the rule-keepers and the rule-breakers. There was no one he excluded! And in his goodness to us, in his desire for us to experience the fullness of his love and his kingdom, he invites us to see the small and BE the small, so that we can embrace the small and see him make all the small, forgotten things into the greatest in his kingdom. This is why he talked about the mustard seed. Because we have a tendency to not only overlook the small, insignificant things but to trample and discard them entirely. Jesus says no! These things–the small, humble, meek, insignificant things–carry unlimited kingdom potential. But in order to see the exponential growth these seeds are capable of, we must relinquish our control of how we’d like it to look, and which seeds we deem appropriate to throw into whichever areas we sanction as “good enough”, and yield to the Grower.

I want Jesus to produce such a supernatural growth in my, my church, my community, that we see a revolution occur. Can you imagine if tiny seeds planted in the place where you live grew into a tree with branches large enough to hold birds of every nation, tribe, and tongue without exception? Can you imagine?

This is what the kingdom of God looks like…

–Laura

A quick culmination of the main kingdom themes that Jesus taught in Mark 4 reminds us that we are to sow generously, let the kingdom be seen like a lit lamp, trust the mystery of growth to God and the last,  the parable of the mustard seed, teaches that the smallest sown seed becomes the largest, most hospitable plant in the garden.

Laura asked us these questions: Is this what the kingdom looks like in us? Has the seed that was sown into the soil of our hearts by Jesus grown beyond its tiny beginning? Have we allowed the Grower to cultivate it, and draw it up and out into the light? If we have, when it broke the surface, did we let it keep reaching toward the light…

Pastor John reminded us that kingdom growth is not about our effort, our own “good enough” is not sustainable nor does the credit for the growth go to us. We are all in this together, all seed sowers, all with the potential to bear fruit, no one is greater, no one is lesser, and all the growth belongs to God.

I will ask again the question that I asked last week. What type of seeds are we sowing? What does the fruit of our lives look like? Like Laura, I desire that my life, my church, my community bear supernatural fruit that leads to supernatural growth that leads to a supernatural revolution that changes the world.

I’ll admit that sometimes I get frustrated at God’s pace. I want him to change things more quickly than it appears to me that they are being changed. I want the polarization in our nation to be resolved now. I want the mean-spiritedness in our nation to be gone now. I want news stations to get rid of their opinion-based angry panels now. I want ongoing, systemic issues of inequity to be abolished now. I want pastors who publicly elevate country over the kingdom of God to have heart change now. I want all people treated and cared for humanely as if they have value and worth now. I want to see churches of all different types sowing seeds of the real, welcoming, no-condemnation, unconditional loving, kingdom of God now. I want all people everywhere to know the Savior Jesus now. I want to be consistently Christ-like now. But that’s not the way it works. It works relationally, one God-saturated person at a time loving one person at a time into the kingdom. This is how things will change–over time.

Pastor John asked us to remember when we first fell in love with Jesus. That’s a good question. I remember being in my bedroom; I was nine. I felt the supernatural presence of Jesus in my room, I felt his love, I knew that I wanted to love him in return and give my life to him.  I can’t explain that moment logically, but as I type out the words, my heart still fills with warmth at the sweetness of it. I made my decision to give my life to Jesus public in my church and was baptized shortly after. I’ve shared many times about the storms that came into my life after that moment and how angry I was at God for a number of years. I’ve shared about my self-destruction, the hurt I caused others, and I’ve also shared about running back to Jesus over and over during that season of chaos. And Every. Single. Time. He welcomed me with open arms. He doesn’t shut his gates. He doesn’t hold grudges. He even uses those seasons to help grow our seeds into beautiful fruit that we can sow into others who are in similar circumstances. Mind-blowing!

Pastor John reminded us of Saul of Tarsus. Saul was a zealot for traditional Judaism. He was a Roman citizen and a Jew who studied under one of the leading rabbis of the day. Saul believed, and would have told you, he was a zealot for God, but truly he was a zealot for the religion of his fathers. Christianity, in all its messiness and wild growth in those early days, was a threat to his neat, packaged, traditional understanding of God. (My daughter defines tradition as peer pressure from dead people–hmmm.)

Saul, full of fervor, anger, and zeal, convinced that he was right was on his way to Damascus to persecute, murder, and incarcerate Christians. On that journey, he met Jesus in a rather dramatic fashion. Leaving his encounter with Jesus physically blind but spiritually sighted, he was directed to the home of Ananias–a disciple of Jesus whom the Lord had spoken to about receiving Saul into his home. Ananias was understandably concerned since he knew Saul’s reputation and how much damage Saul had done to Jesus’ followers in Jerusalem. But God let Ananias know that Saul was going to be his chosen instrument to take the message of Jesus to the Gentiles. Ananias was willing–willing to believe God and sow kingdom seeds of kindness and care into Saul (his enemy).  That’s a big piece in Saul’s story. Ananias was willing to minister to him in kindness.  (Saul’s story is found in Acts 9.)

Saul’s name eventually changed to Paul–the apostle Paul. Do you know what Paul means?  It’s a Latin nickname that means “small”.  When Paul was Saul, he had power, authority, prestige, and he thought he was pretty great. His life was about violently and hatefully making Judaism great again. When he met Jesus, when he became Paul, he lost all of that but gained something much more valuable; he became a huge seed sower for the Kingdom of God. Paul did not consider himself great–he considered Jesus great. He chose to go by the nickname “small” so that he could elevate Christ.

Paul teaches us that there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Gal 3:28)

And in another letter: Here there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free: but Christ is all, and in all, Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.  And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. (Col 3:11-14). 

Paul teaches us that the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. (Gal 5:22-23), 

This Paul, whom we humans so highly esteem tells us that he is the least among the apostles (1st Cor. 15:9) and that Christ is the visible image of the invisible GodHe existed before anything was created and is supreme over all creation...(Col 1:15). 

This Paul, who calls himself small so that he can sow seeds of God’s beautiful kingdom into the rest of us, must be grieved when we elevate him above Christ and use just a few of his words taken out of context to justify exclusion and unkindness. Paul’s overall message is one of inclusion and grace–the type that he himself received when he encountered Jesus. Paul, who gave up all position and power and suffered persecution at the hands of those who previously empowered him in order to sow Jesus, teaches us that Christ is supreme, and his writing encourages us to be full of the Holy Spirit, growing/maturing in Christ and lovingly sowing kingdom seeds for the glory of God all the days of our lives.

In these days of chaos, in these days of vitriol, in these days of unhealthy nationalism, of scary ideologies, of extremism, of inhumane treatment of others, who will we choose to be? It’s easy for all of us, myself included, to get caught up in it all. Paul wrote don’t have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels.  And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but must be kind to everyone (2 Timothy 2:23-24a). It’s kindness that introduces people to the kingdom of God–kindness toward everyone

So, what seeds will we choose to sow? What kingdom are we seeking to make great?

The kingdom that begins with a mustard seed grows to become the largest plant in the garden–birds come and not only rest there, but the original language tells us that the word actually means to pitch one’s tent, to fix one’s abode, to dwell (Strong’s Concordance),  the birds come and find a home.  Are people finding a place to belong here on earth, and a home in the here and now kingdom of God through our God-grown life seeds that continue to reach for and shine the light of Jesus, sowing and bearing Holy Spirit fruit everywhere we go?  Lord Jesus, help us!

“This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground…” (Mark 4:26)

–Luanne

Image result for mustard seed 

 

 

A Matter of Principle: Growth is a Mystery

 Here is what the kingdom of God is like: a man who throws seeds onto the earth. Day and night, as he works and as he sleeps, the seeds sprout and climb out into the light, even though he doesn’t understand how it works. 28 It’s as though the soil itself produced the grain somehow—from a sprouted stalk to ripened fruit. 29 But however it happens, when he sees that the grain has grown and ripened, he gets his sickle and begins to cut it because the harvest has come.   (Mark 4:26-29 The Voice)

Jesus so desires that we understand what the kingdom of God is like, that he uses metaphor after metaphor after metaphor, parable after parable after parable in the hopes that we’ll listen, understand, and align our lives with the principles of God’s kingdom– the subject that Jesus spoke about more than any other–even after his resurrection.  Acts 1:3 tells us:  After his suffering, he presented himself to them and gave many convincing proofs that he was alive. He appeared to them over a period of forty days and spoke about the kingdom of God.  

No matter what theological teaching we’ve grown up under, it is imperative that we understand the importance of the right here, right now kingdom of God. Jesus taught us to pray “may your Kingdom come and your will be done on earth as it is in heaven”. (Mt. 6:10).  And in parables, he tells us over and over what that kingdom is like.

The parable in Mark 4:26-29 (above), follows the parables of Jesus teaching about seeds scattered everywhere and about not hiding our lamps, (which we wrote about in our last two blog posts). Today we focus on kingdom growth.

Pastor John continues to remind us that our role in Kingdom work is to sow generously. This parable is no exception as Jesus begins it by saying the farmer scatters, throws his seeds onto the earth.  Verse 26 doesn’t tell us that he planted in carefully tilled rows…no, he scattered seeds, lots of them. Once the seeds were scattered, he, the farmer, went on about his life, working during the day, sleeping at night, while underground–hidden from the human eye–seed began to bear life. The new plant pushed itself up through the dirt and continued to grow until it bore fully ripened grain. That fully ripened grain was harvested–some for life-giving food, some for seed to be scattered. The process never ends–and yet,  no one really can explain how it happens. I love that. I love that God invites us to participate in His plan of reconciling the world to Himself and making all things new–and at the same time shrouds much of it in mystery.

The most brilliant minds in the world spend millions of dollars and much energy trying to solve the mystery of life’s origins. In a NASA article written in 2017, the author wrote: One of the biggest questions about the origin of life and its subsequent evolution is how random molecules managed to organize themselves into complex living organisms. What prompted them to form complex molecular chains that became the basis of life, and what are the underlying principles that govern which molecules became the important cogs in the system? With so many permutations of how molecules can combine, on the face it would seem extremely unlikely that nature would just stumble onto the right combination of molecules to form self-replicating life.        (https://astrobiology.nasa.gov/news/computing-the-origin-of-life/)

Mystery–only God knows, and yet, he gives us the dignity to partner with him in this mystery.  Two things that we can be sure of as we join Jesus in scattering seeds, we will be stretched, and we can’t control the outcome.

Pastor John used a beautiful metaphor to help us understand the metaphor that Jesus used in this parable. Pastor John asked us to see Jesus offering his hand, inviting us to join him in a dance.  If we choose to take his hand, he leads. It may be awkward at first–we may not know the steps–but as we catch on, the dance becomes more graceful, more fluid. He chooses the music, he chooses the tempo. The song may change, the dance may change, the steps may change–it may become awkward again as the dance becomes more complex–but if we continue to look into the face of Jesus, allowing him to gently hold us and lead us, we’ll grow in our ability to partner with Jesus in the dance.

Notice that in this metaphor, Jesus doesn’t ask us to dance for him as he sits on the sidelines. He doesn’t leave us on our own to figure it out–behaving our way into growth, and comparing ourselves to others on the dance floor.

Jesus also doesn’t force us to dance with him, which could lead to appropriate outward behavior without the heart–the forced, coerced heart often harbors resentment.

Kingdom growth happens organically as we allow the seeds sown in us to be entrusted to the care of the seed creator, the author of life, who does his work in us as we accept his invitation and spend time with him–and if we do that, the seeds sown in us will bear fruit, that fruit will bear seeds and we’ll get to scatter those seeds generously in the world entrusting them to the care of the seed creator, the author of life…

It’s important to keep in mind that we sow seeds all the time, and our work of sowing seeds generously also includes the element of being mindful of which type of seed we’re sowing. The supernatural-natural laws of nature that God implemented from the beginning mean that each seed bears the fruit of the type of seed sown. Scripture is full of analogies in both the Old and New Testaments about sowing and harvesting:

Proverbs 22:8 Whoever sows injustice will reap calamity...

James 3:17-18 But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of justice.

Hosea 10:12-13 Sow for yourselves righteousness and reap the fruit of loving devotion; break up your unplowed ground. For it is time to seek the LORD until He comes and sends righteousness upon you like rain. You have plowed wickedness and reaped injustice; you have eaten the fruit of lies…you have trusted in your own way and in the multitude of your mighty men. 

Galatians 6:7-10  A man reaps what he sows. Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction; whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.  Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.  Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people...

Through our lives, are we sowing seeds of peace or seeds of calamity? Are we reaping unfailing love, justice, and righteousness, or calamity, injustice, and destruction? Are we sowing seeds of love or seeds of division? Are we eating the fruit of lies, or eating good fruit (peace-loving, compassionate, merciful, considerate, impartial)? Our headlines would certainly suggest that not much Kingdom seed is being sown–but there is always some evidence somewhere in some story that the quiet, powerful work of the Kingdom has not ceased. Kingdom seeds are still being sown and are bearing good fruit.

I am aware that I need to examine the seeds I’m sowing–are they kingdom of God seeds or not? The fruit of my relationships, my encounters with people, my thought life, my public life, my private life will all indicate whether or not the kingdom of God is growing in me and being sown through me. If the kingdom of heaven is to come on earth, the Kingdom farmers (us), must plant kingdom of heaven seeds, which means that we must partner with God in allowing him to do what he wants to in our lives–he grows us as we surrender to his lead.

We’ve been sown into, we sow, God grows it all—a mystery that belongs to God alone. What he wants to grow is his kingdom through kingdom fruit which looks like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control, because loving God and loving others is our highest call, and it’s the kindness of the Lord that leads us to repentance. That type of fruit grows in us as we spend time with Jesus, letting him lead our steps, our lives. He honors us with the dignity of a partnership with him in scattering seeds– Spirit born, Kingdom of God seeds–everywhere we go. And as we follow his lead, he does his beautiful, mysterious Kingdom growth work in us and through us. Thanks be to God!

–Luanne

Mystery… So much mystery. It can be a frustrating thing, especially when we want concrete answers and formulas to help make life easier. But God’s design for growing the kingdom can’t be carried out through formulas and answers. Growth in the kingdom is relational–just like our journey with Jesus is relational. Because it is so, I think that God’s mysteries are a kindness to us. Father Richard Rohr has said many times,

“Mystery is not something you can’t know. Mystery is endless knowability.

Endless knowability… I love that two-word phrase. We’ll never reach the bottom in the ocean of God’s mystery–there will always be more to discover. And that is what keeps us seeking, learning, growing. We grow in our knowledge of him and his ways, and that new knowing changes us, and plants and cultivates new seeds, and when those are scattered, the process begins again. If we could fully grasp in our human knowledge the mysteries of God, there would be nothing left to discover, and the model of relationship that keeps us engaged with one another would fall by the wayside. Knowledge can lead us to a desire to control, which then leads to rigid formulas that grow our egos and strip us of our compassion, our humanity.

Mystery keeps us curious. It keeps us humble. 

Learning to live with mystery is about more than how we see and understand God. It is also about how we engage with others–including ourselves. More from Father Richard:

“The most courageous thing we will ever do is to bear humbly the mystery of our own reality, to trust our divine image and grow in God’s likeness. It is simply a matter of becoming who we already are.”

Becoming who we already are… allowing the seeds that have been planted within us to grow beyond us and into the world around us. Naturally, this would mean making space for others to become who they are, too… Luanne wrote,

“Kingdom growth happens organically as we allow the seeds sown in us to be entrusted to the care of the seed creator, the author of life, who does his work in us as we accept his invitation…”

And Pastor John said on Sunday, “The God who created you is still creating in you.”

When we take Jesus’ hand, when we say yes to the dance, we have no idea where we’ll end up. We also have no idea what the seeds planted in us will grow up to be. As Lu was describing the story of the farmer and the seed, she wrote,

“Once the seeds were scattered, he, the farmer, went on about his life, working during the day, sleeping at night, while underground–hidden from the human eye–seed began to bear life.

We can’t see all of the seeds that have been planted in us. We don’t know how long certain seeds take to germinate and sprout. And once seeds do begin to sprout and make their way into our awareness, we don’t know how large that fruit will grow or where it will lead us. We have no idea how the fruit produced in our lives might somehow be the catalyst for change in others and in the world around us. As John said Sunday,

“The seed doesn’t have the capacity to know the potential of its growth.”

Seeds don’t control their own growth. They have no idea what they might become. They are cultivated by the grower. A wildflower doesn’t stand over a glassy pond in the morning perfecting her appearance and wondering how she’ll measure up next to the other wildflowers. That would be absurd. Wildflowers grow into a beauty unique to each one of them. Each one is exquisite. Each adds color and life and dimension to the landscape in which it is growing. They don’t attempt to outdo one another, or to steal each other’s sunshine. They simply grow. And release more seeds that will grow, and so on…

As I’m writing this, two of my kids are with their dear friends. Friends who wouldn’t be friends if it weren’t for seeds generously sown years ago. Eight or nine years ago, I told my mom about a woman who had started coming to the Sunday morning bible study I attended. I told her that I just had a feeling the two of them would be great friends if they met and got to know each other. At this point, my mom wasn’t even going to the same church I was, though she started coming soon after. I remember mentioning my thoughts to my mom more than once, but it would be a while before that seed I’d planted in her ear began to grow…

Two or three years later, she began to pursue a friendship with this woman. She planted seed after seed after seed in attempts to cultivate a friendship. It was slow, but over time, they connected deeply, and this woman became my mom’s best friend. They shared the gift of that friendship, planting seeds in one another’s lives, for one short year before my mom left this earth. But the seeds planted during that year began to grow… and they are still growing today.

The two of them scattered seeds in many different ways, but one way they did so was in their commitment to prayer. They prayed for each other constantly, and they prayed for one another’s children and grandchildren more than anything else. Because of my mom’s encouragement and the friendship they built, my kids and my mom’s friend’s grandkids met each other. She and her husband get to have two of their grandkids with them every summer, and the summer we lost my mom, her grandkids and my kids began spending time together. And they began to build their own friendships. During that season, the tears of my mom’s friend–along with my own–watered the dry ground of grief. In that soil there were seeds planted by prayer, seeds sown generously in friendship. And during that summer, those seeds began to grow. The children became fast friends. And my mom’s friend and I, who didn’t know each other well previously, also developed a beautiful friendship.

It’s been five years since that summer, and today, my kids are having another sleepover with two of their very best friends. They are growing up together, building community together, learning how to stay close and pray each other through hard days as they navigate long-distance friendships. They are asking hard questions, and learning how to grow in their own walks with God and plant seeds of their own. The seeds planted years ago are bearing good fruit in their young hearts today. There’s no way to know how much more fruit will be produced or how many more seeds will be flung into the world as a product of seeds that were planted by two precious grandmas.

Luanne wrote last week about planting tomato seeds with her young granddaughter. Tomato seeds aren’t all she’s planting, though… I’ve watched and listened to the way she interacts with her. I’ve noticed her intentionality, the attention she gives to the precious girl who calls her Lulu. She listens to her, and lets her know that she matters deeply to her. She is planting seeds in her granddaughter’s little heart and mind, seeds that will grow as God works in her, seeds that will likely bear the fruit of patience, compassion, kindness, empathy, honesty, and love, among other beautiful things. These fruits are evident in Luanne’s life, and that fruit produces seeds that she then sows generously into the lives of those around her, including the life of one precious three year old whose potential only God knows.

Pastor John told us on Sunday that his job  on Sunday mornings is to sow generously, to scatter the seeds of whatever God leads him to share with the congregation. And that is what he does. He generously sows into a few hundred hearts every Sunday morning, and more throughout the week. He doesn’t know how many are listening, and he knows it’s not his job to make the seeds grow. His job, like ours, is to sow generously. God is the grower of the seeds that are sown.

There is no way for us to measure which of these examples of sowing will yield the greatest return. That’s part of the mystery–a part we don’t need to know. We’re not in control of the results, thankfully. That responsibility isn’t ours to carry. We are to carry seeds and to sow them generously, trusting that God knows the potential hidden in every tiny seed. Are we willing to scatter seed like the farmer in the story did? Are we willing to throw it everywhere? That is our call. It’s how the kingdom grows. Our big, mysterious, awe-inspiring God has made this part fairly simple and straightforward: Sow seeds of the kingdom, sow generously, and the kingdom will grow. We can all do this. The question is, will we?

–Laura

Image result for seed quotes