Let’s say you get the very difficult news that you need brain surgery. Brain surgery is delicate and often difficult work. There are significant chances of infection, decreased brain function, paralysis, and death. So you go to meet the surgeon in the surgeon’s office to discuss the situation. What do you expect when you meet with the surgeon?
You expect someone who is probably middle aged or older. You imagine someone who is: clean-cut, professionally dressed, poised, and articulate. When you step into the office you expect to see it well laid out and orderly. You expect there to be diplomas and certificates hanging on the wall giving proof of the surgeon’s education and qualifications. It would be nice to see some award sitting around for accomplishments, research, and advancement of the field. All of these things give you confidence that your life and your future are going to be in good hands when you are in surgery.
So how would you feel if it turns out that the surgeon’s office is in the property maintenance shed of the hospital? The office is dirty and cluttered. There are engine parts lying around. It smells like oil. The surgeon then walks in: dirty, unkempt, and smelling of alcohol. The surgeon spits in the trash can and then pulls out earbuds. You hear a faint sound of bluegrass music.
How are you feeling about your surgery now? How would you feel if you were told this is the top surgeon in the world for the operation you need? They would be mixed feelings for sure! I’d probably ask for directions to the surgeon’s office because surely this couldn’t be the person!
There’s something along these lines going on in our gospel reading though. The people we expect to know what is going on don’t. And the person we’d expect to know nothing does.
Let’s remind ourselves of the last few chapters of Luke’s gospel and what we’ve heard the last several weeks. Jesus has been giving teachings to the twelve apostles, and to the crowds, and to some critical Pharisees. We learn that they’re all struggling with what Jesus is saying. However, since the twelve apostles are the closest and they get inside information from Jesus regularly, we expect them to have good knowledge of who Jesus is and what Jesus is doing. Yet that doesn’t seem to be the case.
Our gospel reading began with Jesus taking the twelve aside for some private instruction. He tells them what’s coming up in Jerusalem. He will be: arrested, humiliated, beaten, and executed. Then on the third day he will rise again. This is not the first time he has told them this. He told them something similar right after the Transfiguration recorded in chapter 9. But they didn’t get it then.
Sadly, despite more time and teachings, they still don’t get it. Luke is pretty emphatic about how they don’t get it at all. In just verse 34 Luke has a threefold statement that they didn’t understand. He says, “But they understood nothing about all these things…” That’s the first assertion. Then the second, “…in fact, what he said was hidden from them…” That’s the second assertion. “…and they did not grasp what was said.” That’s the third assertion. It’s all in one sentence but said three times over… they didn’t get it at all!
We shouldn’t be too hard on these guys. It all makes perfect sense to us because we know the end of the story. It was pretty much impossible for them to understand. Yet that is part of the point. The kingdom of God that Jesus promises to be making real is so out of sync with the way the world works that we deem it impossible. Even today, knowing the end of the story, it is very hard to believe: God’s greatest accomplishments, and the reality of God’s kingdom, come most powerfully in the form of suffering, shame, and helplessness. The values of the kingdom of God are about humility; not self-advancement. We ultimately ask how God could possibly bring about forgiveness and salvation that would change the world… by being completely passive in the face of humiliation and death.
So, the disciples, with their inside information on Jesus, are along the lines of what we expect a skilled brain surgeon to look like. Yet they don’t get it. The next person we meet is more like the person you’d meet in a maintenance garage. Yet despite this, he seems to have remarkable insight into who Jesus is.
Immediately after the failure of the disciples to understand the scene shifts to a blind man sitting by the roadside begging. Commentator Joel Green says a blind beggar like this would be seen as “social refuse.” (New International Commentary on the New Testament, Luke, 662) His physical malady would have been interpreted by many as proof of God’s displeasure for him. (After all, doesn’t God reward the good and punish the bad?) Being blind, he had no skills or purpose. He was basically a drain on society. He was probably an embarrassment to his family. He had no role in the world. He had to live off the charity of others. If it weren’t for the way the Jewish people put a priority on almsgiving for those who couldn’t provide for themselves, he would probably have been neglected to death.
He’s begging by the roadside. Then he hears a crowd going by. He asks what is happening and he is told that Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.
How would he, a blind beggar, living near Jericho, have even heard of someone from Nazareth; (which was considered to be a hick town) over 70 miles away? Then he shouts, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Notice he doesn’t say, “Jesus of Nazareth, have mercy on me!” He says, “Jesus, Son of David…” How would he, an uneducated, socially expendable, blind beggar, come to have this insight into Jesus’ identity? And even more so, to know to ask the Son of David for mercy. He should know about as much about Jesus as a car mechanic would know about brain surgery. Yet, in Luke’s gospel, this is the first person to recognize Jesus as the Son of David, and to understand all the prophesies that go with it.
We as the readers aren’t told how he knows this. This is a little trick of Luke’s. Often the ones who you’d expect to have insight don’t. And the ones who have no reason to know, do. The kingdom of God truly does come to the lost and least of the world. Perhaps because they cannot play the games of power and influence the world runs by they can more readily see God’s kingdom.
Then there’s a little twist in the story. Upon hearing the blind man shout out for Jesus we’d expect Jesus to go to him. After all, how is a blind man to find his way to Jesus in a crowd? But Jesus stands still. Jesus orders that the blind man be brought to him.
Why is this so? Perhaps Jesus is making a point. We read that those who were in front of the blind beggar ordered him to be quiet. Yet now when Jesus commands that he be brought to him, those in front must either help in bringing the blind man, or they must stand out of the way so that others can bring the blind man to Jesus. Whatever the case, even before the man is healed of his blindness, the word of Jesus is changing his life situation and giving him importance and place in the world. No longer will he be both blind himself and overlooked by society.
When he arrives at Jesus, Jesus asks what he can do for him. We are reminded that this blind man has had remarkable insight into who Jesus is. What would he want? To be able to see again to be sure! Yet he is already seeing some things better than the whole crowd.
Jesus says, “Receive your sight; your faith has saved you.” I’m pretty sure this man’s faith was his openness to the will of God and the belief that God saw him.
The man is immediately healed. He then does two other things. One, he follows Jesus. Two, he glorifies God.
Contrast this blind man with the rich ruler we read about a few weeks ago. The rich ruler had it all: money, morality, respectability, prestige. Jesus told him he had to give it all up and then come follow him. But the man left and was sad. Here the blind man, who had nothing in the world at all, glorifies God and follows Jesus. The two men are opposites.
Sadly, the most capable of the world often cannot see God at work. Perhaps they are the wealthy or the smart or the young and good looking. The more you can look to yourself for fulfillment the less you think you need God. Then it is the weak, old, broken, and overlooked who can see God at work.
Regardless of where we fall, we are blessed to be able to see God. God is the source of true sight – not meaning the ability of our eyes to take in light and comprehend things – but the insight into God’s nature and God’s promises. Humans cannot get there on their own. It must come from God. We are ultimately needy then. Regardless of how the world treats us, we need God.
Tuesday, November 11, 2025
Monday, November 3, 2025
November 2, 2025 All Saints Sunday Luke 6:20-31
We don’t follow the texts for worship chosen by the Revised Common Lectionary the way many churches do. For many and various reasons we do our own thing. One of those reasons is that key verses are sometimes overlooked. For All Saints Sunday though, we are following the chosen Bible readings, and in one of those readings key verses are skipped. That reading is the first one from Daniel. You’ll notice that we read Daniel 7:1-3 and then skipped to verse 15. What are the verses in between?
Well, we did read from verse three that Daniel had a vision of four great beasts coming from the sea. The skipped verses are the description of those four beasts. They’re fantastic and terrifying, so skipping them makes some sense. But also in those verses is God’s judgment upon them.
I want to read those skipped verses because they set us up for a good message for All Saints Sunday, and also a good message for our day and time.
So, I’ll reread verses 2 and 3, and then go on with about half of the skipped verses:
I, Daniel, saw in my vision by night the four winds of heaven stirring up the great sea, and four great beasts came up out of the sea, different from one another. The first was like a lion and had eagles' wings. Then, as I watched, its wings were plucked off, and it was lifted up from the ground and made to stand on two feet like a human being; and a human mind was given to it. Another beast appeared, a second one, that looked like a bear. It was raised up on one side, had three tusks in its mouth among its teeth and was told, "Arise, devour many bodies!"
After this, as I watched, another appeared, like a leopard. The beast had four wings of a bird on its back and four heads; and dominion was given to it. After this I saw in the visions by night a fourth beast, terrifying and dreadful and exceedingly strong. It had great iron teeth and was devouring, breaking in pieces, and stamping what was left with its feet. It was different from all the beasts that preceded it, and it had ten horns. I was considering the horns, when another horn appeared, a little one coming up among them; to make room for it, three of the earlier horns were plucked up by the roots. There were eyes like human eyes in this horn, and a mouth speaking arrogantly.
Those verses are a weird and terrifying vision. I can understand why they are skipped over. Yet there is an important message there.
The book of Daniel presents itself as prophesy, yet most of it was written after the events happened that it pretends to predict. That is the case here. Those four beasts refer to four kingdoms.
The first beast was like a lion with eagle’s wings. That is the Babylonian Empire which used winged lions in its art.
The second beast was a bear. The Median Empire is represented here as it threatened the Babylonian Empire.
The third beast was a leopard with wings. This is the Persian Empire who took down the Babylonians Empire.
The fourth beast is described as terrifying and dreadfully strong. That is the conquest of the Greeks under the leadership of Alexander the Great. Alexander the Great’s empire was very short lived. Upon his death his empire split in two. One of those empires was the Seleucid Empire. The ten horns are the line of Seleucid rulers. The first of those rulers had coins made that depicted horns. The eleventh horn with eyes is Antiochus IV Epiphanes, who disposed of other claimants to the throne.
Put it all together and the message is that God’s chosen people -small in number, weak, and fragile- will undergo centuries of being dominated and pushed around by great imperial powers. Those great imperial powers will rise and fall but the Israelites will endure.
And then… Daniel’s vision continues. Here are the rest of the skipped verses:
As I watched, thrones were set in place,
and an Ancient One took his throne,
his clothing was white as snow,
and the hair of his head like pure wool;
his throne was fiery flames,
and its wheels were burning fire.
A stream of fire issued and flowed out from his presence.
A thousand thousands served him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood attending him. The court sat in judgment, and the books were opened.
I watched then because of the noise of the arrogant words that the horn was speaking. And as I watched, the beast was put to death, and its body destroyed and given over to be burned with fire. As for the rest of the beasts, their dominion was taken away, but their lives were prolonged for a season and a time.
As I watched in the night visions,
I saw one like a human being coming with the clouds of heaven. And he came to the Ancient One and was presented before him.
To him was given dominion and glory and kingship,
that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him.
His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away,
and his kingship is one that shall never be destroyed.
Here the vision changes to one of promise and hope. Despite feeling weak and powerless, God’s people have not been abandoned at all. God has protected them all along. And now God acts in judgment against all who dominated them.
Notice the people themselves do not have to take up arms. God’s divine judgment comes of its own accord. It is all God’s work.
Though the prophesy is not specific, it is hard not to imagine Jesus into the scene as the one like a human being coming with the clouds of heaven. To him is given an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away, and his kingship is one that will never be destroyed.
What does all this mean for us today then? I hear many people frustrated, worried, and afraid of the way things are going in the world, especially the United States. Regardless of where you fall into our political spectrum, I find almost no one who’s actually happy even with their own party and its leadership. National and international politics are unstable, unpredictably, messy, and out of our control.
Now more than ever, for many of us, we feel like we are small insignificant pawns getting pushed around by the great forces of the world.
Perhaps adding to that is the general decline of Christian faith in America. Churches have dwindled for decades and many have reached the stage of closure.
What is happening in our world and in our faith?
We do well to remember that as people of God, this is not a new thing. The ancient Israelites were seldom in a position that was strong enough for them to confidently defend themselves. But God continued to watch over them and protect them from utter destruction. The early Christians were similarly weak and fragile in the vastness of the seemingly eternal Roman Empire. Yet God was with them as they struggled. The Roman Empire is long gone. So are pretty much all of its many religions. But Christianity remains and is spread throughout the world. God does protect us and guide us in the midst of things that make us feel like we are too small and insignificant to be of any purpose.
We are always held securely by God. We have nothing to ultimately fear by what goes on in the world around us. And remember, all the work of preservation and protection is also God’s work. It is not by our own efforts that we survive.
Which takes us to the question, what then are we to do? If we are powerless in the forces that sway the world, and God ultimately brings about this glorious secure future, then what role do we actually play? There we look what Jesus says in our gospel reading: He proclaims blessings on many who are overlooked and oppressed; and woes on many who are comfortable and powerful. Then he concludes, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you…” and onward.
Brothers and sisters in Christ, this is not us being weak or timid. It is not about letting the world walk all over us as if we were doormats. What Jesus teaches is actually encouraging the weak to constructively stand up to the strong, and in ways that challenge the honor of the strong. It is about solidly standing on the promises of God and realizing everything else is of lesser consequence.
If following God leads to poverty, hunger, and weeping, then so be it. It is the greater honor and promise to serve our God. If we are hurt and battered and pushed about, then so be it. It is the greater power to do God’s work. And if we even be killed in the service of our God, then so be it. It is the greater glory to be held by God in eternity.
God scoffs at what we humans call powerful: money, status, weapons, and the like. God shows real eternal power in the work of Jesus – where self-gift on the cross brought about salvation and resurrection.
The prophet Daniel talked about great empires that appeared powerful and who menaced God’s people for centuries. All of those empires are gone. God’s people continue. The early Christians felt the same powerlessness in the face of Roman power. But God protected them and helped them grow. No matter what happens in the future of our nation, God’s love and God’s people continue. The solid enduring love of Christ goes on and on into eternity. On All Saints Sunday we remember those who struggled before us. We celebrate them. Our own lives continue the struggle. In time, we will take our rest too. And ultimately God will bring all things to his promised fulfillment.
Well, we did read from verse three that Daniel had a vision of four great beasts coming from the sea. The skipped verses are the description of those four beasts. They’re fantastic and terrifying, so skipping them makes some sense. But also in those verses is God’s judgment upon them.
I want to read those skipped verses because they set us up for a good message for All Saints Sunday, and also a good message for our day and time.
So, I’ll reread verses 2 and 3, and then go on with about half of the skipped verses:
I, Daniel, saw in my vision by night the four winds of heaven stirring up the great sea, and four great beasts came up out of the sea, different from one another. The first was like a lion and had eagles' wings. Then, as I watched, its wings were plucked off, and it was lifted up from the ground and made to stand on two feet like a human being; and a human mind was given to it. Another beast appeared, a second one, that looked like a bear. It was raised up on one side, had three tusks in its mouth among its teeth and was told, "Arise, devour many bodies!"
After this, as I watched, another appeared, like a leopard. The beast had four wings of a bird on its back and four heads; and dominion was given to it. After this I saw in the visions by night a fourth beast, terrifying and dreadful and exceedingly strong. It had great iron teeth and was devouring, breaking in pieces, and stamping what was left with its feet. It was different from all the beasts that preceded it, and it had ten horns. I was considering the horns, when another horn appeared, a little one coming up among them; to make room for it, three of the earlier horns were plucked up by the roots. There were eyes like human eyes in this horn, and a mouth speaking arrogantly.
Those verses are a weird and terrifying vision. I can understand why they are skipped over. Yet there is an important message there.
The book of Daniel presents itself as prophesy, yet most of it was written after the events happened that it pretends to predict. That is the case here. Those four beasts refer to four kingdoms.
The first beast was like a lion with eagle’s wings. That is the Babylonian Empire which used winged lions in its art.
The second beast was a bear. The Median Empire is represented here as it threatened the Babylonian Empire.
The third beast was a leopard with wings. This is the Persian Empire who took down the Babylonians Empire.
The fourth beast is described as terrifying and dreadfully strong. That is the conquest of the Greeks under the leadership of Alexander the Great. Alexander the Great’s empire was very short lived. Upon his death his empire split in two. One of those empires was the Seleucid Empire. The ten horns are the line of Seleucid rulers. The first of those rulers had coins made that depicted horns. The eleventh horn with eyes is Antiochus IV Epiphanes, who disposed of other claimants to the throne.
Put it all together and the message is that God’s chosen people -small in number, weak, and fragile- will undergo centuries of being dominated and pushed around by great imperial powers. Those great imperial powers will rise and fall but the Israelites will endure.
And then… Daniel’s vision continues. Here are the rest of the skipped verses:
As I watched, thrones were set in place,
and an Ancient One took his throne,
his clothing was white as snow,
and the hair of his head like pure wool;
his throne was fiery flames,
and its wheels were burning fire.
A stream of fire issued and flowed out from his presence.
A thousand thousands served him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood attending him. The court sat in judgment, and the books were opened.
I watched then because of the noise of the arrogant words that the horn was speaking. And as I watched, the beast was put to death, and its body destroyed and given over to be burned with fire. As for the rest of the beasts, their dominion was taken away, but their lives were prolonged for a season and a time.
As I watched in the night visions,
I saw one like a human being coming with the clouds of heaven. And he came to the Ancient One and was presented before him.
To him was given dominion and glory and kingship,
that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him.
His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away,
and his kingship is one that shall never be destroyed.
Here the vision changes to one of promise and hope. Despite feeling weak and powerless, God’s people have not been abandoned at all. God has protected them all along. And now God acts in judgment against all who dominated them.
Notice the people themselves do not have to take up arms. God’s divine judgment comes of its own accord. It is all God’s work.
Though the prophesy is not specific, it is hard not to imagine Jesus into the scene as the one like a human being coming with the clouds of heaven. To him is given an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away, and his kingship is one that will never be destroyed.
What does all this mean for us today then? I hear many people frustrated, worried, and afraid of the way things are going in the world, especially the United States. Regardless of where you fall into our political spectrum, I find almost no one who’s actually happy even with their own party and its leadership. National and international politics are unstable, unpredictably, messy, and out of our control.
Now more than ever, for many of us, we feel like we are small insignificant pawns getting pushed around by the great forces of the world.
Perhaps adding to that is the general decline of Christian faith in America. Churches have dwindled for decades and many have reached the stage of closure.
What is happening in our world and in our faith?
We do well to remember that as people of God, this is not a new thing. The ancient Israelites were seldom in a position that was strong enough for them to confidently defend themselves. But God continued to watch over them and protect them from utter destruction. The early Christians were similarly weak and fragile in the vastness of the seemingly eternal Roman Empire. Yet God was with them as they struggled. The Roman Empire is long gone. So are pretty much all of its many religions. But Christianity remains and is spread throughout the world. God does protect us and guide us in the midst of things that make us feel like we are too small and insignificant to be of any purpose.
We are always held securely by God. We have nothing to ultimately fear by what goes on in the world around us. And remember, all the work of preservation and protection is also God’s work. It is not by our own efforts that we survive.
Which takes us to the question, what then are we to do? If we are powerless in the forces that sway the world, and God ultimately brings about this glorious secure future, then what role do we actually play? There we look what Jesus says in our gospel reading: He proclaims blessings on many who are overlooked and oppressed; and woes on many who are comfortable and powerful. Then he concludes, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you…” and onward.
Brothers and sisters in Christ, this is not us being weak or timid. It is not about letting the world walk all over us as if we were doormats. What Jesus teaches is actually encouraging the weak to constructively stand up to the strong, and in ways that challenge the honor of the strong. It is about solidly standing on the promises of God and realizing everything else is of lesser consequence.
If following God leads to poverty, hunger, and weeping, then so be it. It is the greater honor and promise to serve our God. If we are hurt and battered and pushed about, then so be it. It is the greater power to do God’s work. And if we even be killed in the service of our God, then so be it. It is the greater glory to be held by God in eternity.
God scoffs at what we humans call powerful: money, status, weapons, and the like. God shows real eternal power in the work of Jesus – where self-gift on the cross brought about salvation and resurrection.
The prophet Daniel talked about great empires that appeared powerful and who menaced God’s people for centuries. All of those empires are gone. God’s people continue. The early Christians felt the same powerlessness in the face of Roman power. But God protected them and helped them grow. No matter what happens in the future of our nation, God’s love and God’s people continue. The solid enduring love of Christ goes on and on into eternity. On All Saints Sunday we remember those who struggled before us. We celebrate them. Our own lives continue the struggle. In time, we will take our rest too. And ultimately God will bring all things to his promised fulfillment.
Monday, October 27, 2025
October 26, 2025 Reformation Sunday Luke 18:15-30
It is Reformation Sunday. The phrase for today is that we are, “saved by grace through faith.” Those are fine churchy words, but what do they mean? The wealthy ruler that we read about in the gospel reading gives us a perfect example to learn from.
This ruler doesn’t just suddenly appear in front of Jesus out of the blue though. As Luke tells the story of Jesus he says that people were bringing infants to him that he might touch them. The disciples saw it. In what we might call an admirable attempt to protect their master from being bothered, they tell people to stop. But Jesus replies, “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.” (Luke 18:16)
It's a sweet scene – Jesus welcoming children and being kind to them. But then Jesus says something that is difficult and confusing, “Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” (Luke 18:17) What are we to make of that? Does that mean you have to start your journey of Christian faith in childhood? Or is it more symbolic, like you need to have childish innocence and powerlessness in order to enter the kingdom of God? Jesus doesn’t give any answers directly, but when the rich ruler steps forward we find out what Jesus means.
It appears that the ruler was in the crowd as Jesus was blessing the children. So he steps forward and asks for clarification about his own situation. “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” That sounds to us like this ruler is complementing Jesus by calling him good. And he was, but what we may miss is that it was a compliment with strings attached. According to social rules of the day, one complement deserves another. In other words, the way this man compliments Jesus sort of puts Jesus under obligation to compliment him in return.
These days what you say and how you say it often indicates what political party you belong to and what your values are. We could call it moral posturing or virtue signaling. That’s along the lines of what this man is doing with Jesus. He’s showing his commitment to a particular set of social conventions, showing he is part of a particular social group, and how he expects life and relationships to work.
When Jesus replies, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” Jesus is not denying his own goodness. He is signaling to the man that he is not going to play a game of moral posturing and virtue signaling. Jesus continues, “You know the commandments…” and he lists some of them. Thus, while Jesus isn’t playing along, he does start a different game of sorts. Listing the commandments like this is not meant to teach them. Jesus started off with, “You know the commandments…” What Jesus is doing is using a technique of using the Ten Commandments as a baseline to then teach something about how to apply them. So the ruler replies, “I have kept all these since my youth.” In other words, he is blameless. He is powerful, a leader, upright, and of high social standing. All of it has come about from his own efforts. By social conventions of the time you could say that he has it all, and that he merits it.
So now it is Jesus’ turn to teach something about how to apply the commandments. What things more should this ruler do? What should he do to merit a higher and more certain status before God?
You know Jesus’ reply. He does not reply about the commandments at all. If this man started off by complimenting Jesus so as to manipulate social conventions such that Jesus had to compliment him in return, Jesus now manipulates religious conventions in a way that corners this man. “There is still one thing lacking. Sell all that you own and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
The ruler is now faced with the wholesale rejection of: his status in the world, his financial security, his social networks, and even his understanding of God. Everything, and Jesus means everything, that gives this man a position in the world has to go.
This scene was initiated by Jesus welcoming little children and saying that it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. A little child has: no developed social network, no financial portfolio to leverage, no possessions, and not even a morality that could lead to moral posturing or virtue signaling. A child is dependent upon its parents for everything. It is not even capable of meriting being loved. Now we know what Jesus meant. Receiving the kingdom as a child is not about innocence or immaturity. It is about dependence.
Faced with the wholesale rejection of everything that gave the ruler an identity he is saddened. He could have been angry. He could have lashed out at what Jesus taught. If social media were around at the time he could have lashed out against Jesus and tried to get him “cancelled”. But since he is saddened we realize that he probably was genuinely interested in what Jesus had to say. He did respect Jesus when he called him good and teacher. Jesus looks at him in his sadness and says, “How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! Indeed, it is easier to for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” (18:24-25)
The rich man disappears from the story line. We are left to wonder what happened to him. Presumably he couldn’t do what Jesus said.
But he’s not the only one struggling with all of this. Those who heard Jesus said, “Then who can be saved?” Indeed, if being: respectable, hardworking, conscientious, and rule-abiding doesn’t make God love you, then what possibly could? What could God possibly want from us so that God loves us?
Here on Reformation Sunday we realize that that whole way of thinking is totally backwards. Yet that is exactly the way we are inclined to think. We live the way God wants – we are “good people” in other words – and God then takes us to heaven after we die.
I have been at a lot of death beds over the years and I’ve done plenty of funerals. I cannot count the number of times I’ve heard things like, “She was a good person.” Or, “He may have been a bit rough, but he was a good person at heart. I’m sure he’s in heaven with God right now.” My Lutheran theology wants to scream out and say: “Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!” But my pastoral sensibility keeps me quiet. I end up muttering something about we are all sinners in need of God’s grace, but the hearer thinks I’ve actually agreed with them.
“Then who can be saved?” they ask. Jesus replies with the truth. It is the simple, honest, straightforward truth: it is impossible.
That’s it. End of story. Do you want to be saved? Forget it. It’s not going to happen. You can’t do it. You’re lost, condemned, dead, damned. Too bad.
Except you aren’t saved by being: respectable, hardworking, conscientious, and rule-abiding. You are saved by God’s grace through faith; with faith itself being a gracious gift from God.
Jesus said, “What is impossible for mortals is possible for God.”
Now we’re at the core of what the rich ruler needed. We’re at the core of what we need too. It is the profound and absolute recognition of how helpless we are in our situation and how completely dependent we are upon God.
Salvation comes by God and God alone. It is not possible for us. No morality or merit of our own, regardless of the religious system, can get us there. If it could, then we could be smug and leveraging and manipulative; and do our virtue signaling and moral posturing, and have ‘correct’ political leanings, and all of that.
But when you are saved by God’s grace through faith all of that – all of it – is chucked out completely.
Inasmuch as we are moral, hard-working, conscientious, and all of that, it is the reasonable response to God’s grace. We say that if God does truly save us out of unmerited love, then we can live in love as well. We do so without strategy or scheme. We simply do it. Our lives of faith are not a strategy. They are a response.
God’s love and constant embrace of us gives us freedom. It gives us comfort. It gives us joy. We can live in true confidence. The Reformation renewed these truths 500 years ago. But of course they go back to Jesus himself. Despite their age they are as relevant to today as ever. They are what we build our lives upon.
This ruler doesn’t just suddenly appear in front of Jesus out of the blue though. As Luke tells the story of Jesus he says that people were bringing infants to him that he might touch them. The disciples saw it. In what we might call an admirable attempt to protect their master from being bothered, they tell people to stop. But Jesus replies, “Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.” (Luke 18:16)
It's a sweet scene – Jesus welcoming children and being kind to them. But then Jesus says something that is difficult and confusing, “Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” (Luke 18:17) What are we to make of that? Does that mean you have to start your journey of Christian faith in childhood? Or is it more symbolic, like you need to have childish innocence and powerlessness in order to enter the kingdom of God? Jesus doesn’t give any answers directly, but when the rich ruler steps forward we find out what Jesus means.
It appears that the ruler was in the crowd as Jesus was blessing the children. So he steps forward and asks for clarification about his own situation. “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” That sounds to us like this ruler is complementing Jesus by calling him good. And he was, but what we may miss is that it was a compliment with strings attached. According to social rules of the day, one complement deserves another. In other words, the way this man compliments Jesus sort of puts Jesus under obligation to compliment him in return.
These days what you say and how you say it often indicates what political party you belong to and what your values are. We could call it moral posturing or virtue signaling. That’s along the lines of what this man is doing with Jesus. He’s showing his commitment to a particular set of social conventions, showing he is part of a particular social group, and how he expects life and relationships to work.
When Jesus replies, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” Jesus is not denying his own goodness. He is signaling to the man that he is not going to play a game of moral posturing and virtue signaling. Jesus continues, “You know the commandments…” and he lists some of them. Thus, while Jesus isn’t playing along, he does start a different game of sorts. Listing the commandments like this is not meant to teach them. Jesus started off with, “You know the commandments…” What Jesus is doing is using a technique of using the Ten Commandments as a baseline to then teach something about how to apply them. So the ruler replies, “I have kept all these since my youth.” In other words, he is blameless. He is powerful, a leader, upright, and of high social standing. All of it has come about from his own efforts. By social conventions of the time you could say that he has it all, and that he merits it.
So now it is Jesus’ turn to teach something about how to apply the commandments. What things more should this ruler do? What should he do to merit a higher and more certain status before God?
You know Jesus’ reply. He does not reply about the commandments at all. If this man started off by complimenting Jesus so as to manipulate social conventions such that Jesus had to compliment him in return, Jesus now manipulates religious conventions in a way that corners this man. “There is still one thing lacking. Sell all that you own and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”
The ruler is now faced with the wholesale rejection of: his status in the world, his financial security, his social networks, and even his understanding of God. Everything, and Jesus means everything, that gives this man a position in the world has to go.
This scene was initiated by Jesus welcoming little children and saying that it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. A little child has: no developed social network, no financial portfolio to leverage, no possessions, and not even a morality that could lead to moral posturing or virtue signaling. A child is dependent upon its parents for everything. It is not even capable of meriting being loved. Now we know what Jesus meant. Receiving the kingdom as a child is not about innocence or immaturity. It is about dependence.
Faced with the wholesale rejection of everything that gave the ruler an identity he is saddened. He could have been angry. He could have lashed out at what Jesus taught. If social media were around at the time he could have lashed out against Jesus and tried to get him “cancelled”. But since he is saddened we realize that he probably was genuinely interested in what Jesus had to say. He did respect Jesus when he called him good and teacher. Jesus looks at him in his sadness and says, “How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! Indeed, it is easier to for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” (18:24-25)
The rich man disappears from the story line. We are left to wonder what happened to him. Presumably he couldn’t do what Jesus said.
But he’s not the only one struggling with all of this. Those who heard Jesus said, “Then who can be saved?” Indeed, if being: respectable, hardworking, conscientious, and rule-abiding doesn’t make God love you, then what possibly could? What could God possibly want from us so that God loves us?
Here on Reformation Sunday we realize that that whole way of thinking is totally backwards. Yet that is exactly the way we are inclined to think. We live the way God wants – we are “good people” in other words – and God then takes us to heaven after we die.
I have been at a lot of death beds over the years and I’ve done plenty of funerals. I cannot count the number of times I’ve heard things like, “She was a good person.” Or, “He may have been a bit rough, but he was a good person at heart. I’m sure he’s in heaven with God right now.” My Lutheran theology wants to scream out and say: “Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!” But my pastoral sensibility keeps me quiet. I end up muttering something about we are all sinners in need of God’s grace, but the hearer thinks I’ve actually agreed with them.
“Then who can be saved?” they ask. Jesus replies with the truth. It is the simple, honest, straightforward truth: it is impossible.
That’s it. End of story. Do you want to be saved? Forget it. It’s not going to happen. You can’t do it. You’re lost, condemned, dead, damned. Too bad.
Except you aren’t saved by being: respectable, hardworking, conscientious, and rule-abiding. You are saved by God’s grace through faith; with faith itself being a gracious gift from God.
Jesus said, “What is impossible for mortals is possible for God.”
Now we’re at the core of what the rich ruler needed. We’re at the core of what we need too. It is the profound and absolute recognition of how helpless we are in our situation and how completely dependent we are upon God.
Salvation comes by God and God alone. It is not possible for us. No morality or merit of our own, regardless of the religious system, can get us there. If it could, then we could be smug and leveraging and manipulative; and do our virtue signaling and moral posturing, and have ‘correct’ political leanings, and all of that.
But when you are saved by God’s grace through faith all of that – all of it – is chucked out completely.
Inasmuch as we are moral, hard-working, conscientious, and all of that, it is the reasonable response to God’s grace. We say that if God does truly save us out of unmerited love, then we can live in love as well. We do so without strategy or scheme. We simply do it. Our lives of faith are not a strategy. They are a response.
God’s love and constant embrace of us gives us freedom. It gives us comfort. It gives us joy. We can live in true confidence. The Reformation renewed these truths 500 years ago. But of course they go back to Jesus himself. Despite their age they are as relevant to today as ever. They are what we build our lives upon.
Monday, October 20, 2025
October 19, 2025 Pray Persistently and Humbly Luke 18:1-14
I said at the beginning of the service that the two parables in the gospel reading may seem to be separate but they are actually linked. It’s pretty obvious, as the second parable begins with the words, “[Jesus] also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt.” Even so, how do the Parable of the Widow and the Unjust Judge, and the Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector link? To get right to it, they’re both about prayer. The combined message is to pray with both persistence and humility. I suppose I could end the sermon right there, but it’s worth seeing how and why they link.
Let’s remember that even the first of these two parables doesn’t come out of nowhere. Last week we left off with Luke 17. People were asking Jesus about the coming of the kingdom of God. That ended with us the readers realizing that the disciples of Jesus had no greater faith or understanding than Jesus’ opponents. We keep that in mind as we go forward.
The first parable is about the need to pray always and not lose heart. Perhaps the easiest way to understand what this parable is teaching is to understand what it is not. It is not about praying to God like a teenager badgering his or her parents for something until, hopefully, eventually, they give in out of exasperation. Prayer is not about pestering God; as if God is testing you to see if you really want it badly enough to ask for it over and over again.
Prayer is also not asking for things from God as if God were a genie in a lamp. The genie then comes out and grants wishes. Many people basically have that as their prayer life. As long as everything is going okay in life, or perhaps as long as everything in life is going on in a way that they feel they can control, they’re quite content to trust in themselves. Only when something goes out of control do they turn to God in prayer.
I’ve used the example before of the time that the pastor of the Lutheran church in Verona asked me to visit a parishioner who was in her late 20s and had been sent to Strong Hospital with several life-threatening conditions. When I first arrived she was in surgery. It didn’t look good. I talked with her husband and friends in the surgical waiting room. If she survived the first surgery there would be more ahead. None of it would be easy and she’d never live a truly good life no matter what. The family and friends were distraught; begging me to pray for them and for God to give a miracle. It was a tough situation. I stayed with them for quite a while and indeed prayed with them. The surgery was going to take a long time and I eventually left. I checked back in with them several hours later and that particular surgery had been successful. They were happy. They told me they were now good and they didn’t need me. Even as I reminded them that this was the first of several surgeries, and the whole situation had no real chance of coming out good, they said they were fine.
But things weren’t fine. Her condition plummeted a few hours later as a series of other things went wrong. Now the family was distraught again and asked for me and for prayer. We went through a few of those cycles. Every time things looked good they said they didn’t need me. Every time things looked hopeless they asked God for a miracle. Though it was difficult, her condition really was beyond hope from the very beginning. All the hospital staff knew that. Mercifully she died within a couple days.
That is an example of how many people pray. They look to themselves for most things. When things are beyond their control they look to God. But that’s no way to pray. The way to pray is a persistent attitude of wrestling with issues with God, and in a relationship of faith. Prayer is not about getting stuff.
Another thing that the parable is not, is that the unjust judge in the parable does not represent God. The judge is just a foil against whom God is compared. Jesus says, ““Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them.” (18:6b-7) In other words, God is truly with us, wants what is good for us, and on our side all along.
Justice in the parable is not identical to our notions of social justice today; although there are overlaps. Justice in the parable is much broader. Commentator Joel Green notes, “God’s people will be the objects of unjust actions within an unjust world.” (New International Commentary of the New Testament, Luke, Pg. 642) The entire orientation of society, and the whole human enterprise, is fundamentally unjust. Humans do not trust God as they should. Just like people who only turn to God when they need something they can’t get otherwise, we humans look to ourselves for fulfillment rather than absolutely trusting the God who created us and loves us.
Jesus says to pray to God persistently. This is not because we want stuff. It is because it’s the correct attitude to understand all things and to act accordingly. Much later in Luke’s gospel Jesus is in Gethsemane and about to be arrested. He begs three times in prayer that he not have to go through with the arrest, beating, and painful execution. But apparently the answer is no. That is the most faith-filled prayer ever made, and it led to Jesus having the strength to stay the course.
So, persistence in prayer then leads us to the second parable about humility in prayer. Jesus creates a story about a Pharisee and tax collector who go to the temple to pray. The Pharisee may seem arrogant to us, but let’s realize something of ourselves in him. Perhaps we don’t strut around with our noses stuck in the air thinking that we are somehow superior beings. And yet, that thinking can pervade our faith.
The Pharisee in the parable seems to do everything right. He has an honorable profession and conducts himself appropriately. He says in his prayer that he is not a thief, rogue, adulterer, or like the tax collector. He observes all religious duties and gives generously. Presumably he is thought of highly in society. He is disciplined, conscientious, and diligent. He’s the kind of guy you want to have as a next-door neighbor. We can picture him as having a good wife. His kids are well-behaved, well-rounded, and get good grades.
It’s hard to be that sort of person and not become a bit arrogant about it. After all, doing life “right” takes a lot of work and discipline. You can look at a person who is never consistent with a job, or has wasteful habits, or is addicted to something and see them as lazy, sloppy, and careless. You then conclude that they deserve the hardships and problems in their lives.
While I never want to preach anything other than being highly conscientious and responsible, when you achieve earthly success it is easy to slip into the thinking that God must be smiling down on you for your goodness. You think that God creates and sustains the lives of people like you. You think you deserve, and have every right to, the life you live. You think that if others just did what is right and lived with the priorities that you exhibit, their lives would be good too. You subtly think that others whose lives are full of problems are clearly living out the consequences of their flawed morality. God is then just giving them what they deserve; perhaps even as a means of goading them into righteousness.
The tax collector in the parable would be such a person. Tax collectors were generally despised for any number of reasons. He stands back and just asks God for mercy.
It is worth noting that throughout Luke’s gospel tax collectors are never actually called out for being especially sinful for their jobs. Both Jesus and John the Baptist just call on them to do their jobs ethically. So, the tax collector here is not necessarily sinful. The only real difference between the two men in the parable is that the Pharisee is exulted by society and the tax collector is looked down upon.
Notice in the parable the Jesus does not describe the tax collector as listing out before God all the things he does that are immoral or wrong. He simply comes before God with humility and says, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” Let’s not read all sorts of immoral conduct into this man that may or may not be there. Again, the only real difference between he and the Pharisee is that the Pharisee is focused on his self-made righteousness. That shows up in his prayer. He sees his faith in God as something that is his own good work. Whereas the tax collector (also clearly a man of faith or else he wouldn’t be praying in the temple), focuses on his need for God’s mercy. Though Jesus describes the tax collector as beating his breast as he asks for mercy, that does not mean that he is depressed or ashamed. He simply knows he comes to God with needs while also having nothing of value to give to God. He is truly humble. Jesus says this is the correct attitude for prayer.
So again, together the parables teach us persistence and humility in prayer. This is not a strategy to pray most effectively. It is the attitude that puts you in right relationship with God. Prayer is a core aspect of that relationship. Let me end with theses fitting words from Martin Luther: “When I look at myself I don’t see how I can be saved. When I look at Christ, I don’t see how I can be lost.”
Let’s remember that even the first of these two parables doesn’t come out of nowhere. Last week we left off with Luke 17. People were asking Jesus about the coming of the kingdom of God. That ended with us the readers realizing that the disciples of Jesus had no greater faith or understanding than Jesus’ opponents. We keep that in mind as we go forward.
The first parable is about the need to pray always and not lose heart. Perhaps the easiest way to understand what this parable is teaching is to understand what it is not. It is not about praying to God like a teenager badgering his or her parents for something until, hopefully, eventually, they give in out of exasperation. Prayer is not about pestering God; as if God is testing you to see if you really want it badly enough to ask for it over and over again.
Prayer is also not asking for things from God as if God were a genie in a lamp. The genie then comes out and grants wishes. Many people basically have that as their prayer life. As long as everything is going okay in life, or perhaps as long as everything in life is going on in a way that they feel they can control, they’re quite content to trust in themselves. Only when something goes out of control do they turn to God in prayer.
I’ve used the example before of the time that the pastor of the Lutheran church in Verona asked me to visit a parishioner who was in her late 20s and had been sent to Strong Hospital with several life-threatening conditions. When I first arrived she was in surgery. It didn’t look good. I talked with her husband and friends in the surgical waiting room. If she survived the first surgery there would be more ahead. None of it would be easy and she’d never live a truly good life no matter what. The family and friends were distraught; begging me to pray for them and for God to give a miracle. It was a tough situation. I stayed with them for quite a while and indeed prayed with them. The surgery was going to take a long time and I eventually left. I checked back in with them several hours later and that particular surgery had been successful. They were happy. They told me they were now good and they didn’t need me. Even as I reminded them that this was the first of several surgeries, and the whole situation had no real chance of coming out good, they said they were fine.
But things weren’t fine. Her condition plummeted a few hours later as a series of other things went wrong. Now the family was distraught again and asked for me and for prayer. We went through a few of those cycles. Every time things looked good they said they didn’t need me. Every time things looked hopeless they asked God for a miracle. Though it was difficult, her condition really was beyond hope from the very beginning. All the hospital staff knew that. Mercifully she died within a couple days.
That is an example of how many people pray. They look to themselves for most things. When things are beyond their control they look to God. But that’s no way to pray. The way to pray is a persistent attitude of wrestling with issues with God, and in a relationship of faith. Prayer is not about getting stuff.
Another thing that the parable is not, is that the unjust judge in the parable does not represent God. The judge is just a foil against whom God is compared. Jesus says, ““Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in them? I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them.” (18:6b-7) In other words, God is truly with us, wants what is good for us, and on our side all along.
Justice in the parable is not identical to our notions of social justice today; although there are overlaps. Justice in the parable is much broader. Commentator Joel Green notes, “God’s people will be the objects of unjust actions within an unjust world.” (New International Commentary of the New Testament, Luke, Pg. 642) The entire orientation of society, and the whole human enterprise, is fundamentally unjust. Humans do not trust God as they should. Just like people who only turn to God when they need something they can’t get otherwise, we humans look to ourselves for fulfillment rather than absolutely trusting the God who created us and loves us.
Jesus says to pray to God persistently. This is not because we want stuff. It is because it’s the correct attitude to understand all things and to act accordingly. Much later in Luke’s gospel Jesus is in Gethsemane and about to be arrested. He begs three times in prayer that he not have to go through with the arrest, beating, and painful execution. But apparently the answer is no. That is the most faith-filled prayer ever made, and it led to Jesus having the strength to stay the course.
So, persistence in prayer then leads us to the second parable about humility in prayer. Jesus creates a story about a Pharisee and tax collector who go to the temple to pray. The Pharisee may seem arrogant to us, but let’s realize something of ourselves in him. Perhaps we don’t strut around with our noses stuck in the air thinking that we are somehow superior beings. And yet, that thinking can pervade our faith.
The Pharisee in the parable seems to do everything right. He has an honorable profession and conducts himself appropriately. He says in his prayer that he is not a thief, rogue, adulterer, or like the tax collector. He observes all religious duties and gives generously. Presumably he is thought of highly in society. He is disciplined, conscientious, and diligent. He’s the kind of guy you want to have as a next-door neighbor. We can picture him as having a good wife. His kids are well-behaved, well-rounded, and get good grades.
It’s hard to be that sort of person and not become a bit arrogant about it. After all, doing life “right” takes a lot of work and discipline. You can look at a person who is never consistent with a job, or has wasteful habits, or is addicted to something and see them as lazy, sloppy, and careless. You then conclude that they deserve the hardships and problems in their lives.
While I never want to preach anything other than being highly conscientious and responsible, when you achieve earthly success it is easy to slip into the thinking that God must be smiling down on you for your goodness. You think that God creates and sustains the lives of people like you. You think you deserve, and have every right to, the life you live. You think that if others just did what is right and lived with the priorities that you exhibit, their lives would be good too. You subtly think that others whose lives are full of problems are clearly living out the consequences of their flawed morality. God is then just giving them what they deserve; perhaps even as a means of goading them into righteousness.
The tax collector in the parable would be such a person. Tax collectors were generally despised for any number of reasons. He stands back and just asks God for mercy.
It is worth noting that throughout Luke’s gospel tax collectors are never actually called out for being especially sinful for their jobs. Both Jesus and John the Baptist just call on them to do their jobs ethically. So, the tax collector here is not necessarily sinful. The only real difference between the two men in the parable is that the Pharisee is exulted by society and the tax collector is looked down upon.
Notice in the parable the Jesus does not describe the tax collector as listing out before God all the things he does that are immoral or wrong. He simply comes before God with humility and says, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” Let’s not read all sorts of immoral conduct into this man that may or may not be there. Again, the only real difference between he and the Pharisee is that the Pharisee is focused on his self-made righteousness. That shows up in his prayer. He sees his faith in God as something that is his own good work. Whereas the tax collector (also clearly a man of faith or else he wouldn’t be praying in the temple), focuses on his need for God’s mercy. Though Jesus describes the tax collector as beating his breast as he asks for mercy, that does not mean that he is depressed or ashamed. He simply knows he comes to God with needs while also having nothing of value to give to God. He is truly humble. Jesus says this is the correct attitude for prayer.
So again, together the parables teach us persistence and humility in prayer. This is not a strategy to pray most effectively. It is the attitude that puts you in right relationship with God. Prayer is a core aspect of that relationship. Let me end with theses fitting words from Martin Luther: “When I look at myself I don’t see how I can be saved. When I look at Christ, I don’t see how I can be lost.”
Monday, October 13, 2025
October 12, 2025 Kingdom of God and the End of Time Luke 17:20-37
Every time I read the verses of our gospel reading my mind immediately focuses on the verses about people being left behind. Jesus says, “I tell you, on that night there will be two in one bed; one will be taken and the other left. There will be two women grinding meal together; one will be taken and the other left.” I’m reminded of the Left Behind books and movies from a couple decades ago. I also recall seeing bumper stickers that say, “Warning: In case of rapture this car will be driverless.”
It inspires vivid images in my imagination, but all of that misses the point of what Jesus is trying to get across. We remember that Jesus often taught in parables, images, and used great exaggerations. Taking these verses literally misses the real point.
Jesus, who we’ll remember is on his way to Jerusalem with a group of his followers, is asked by some Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming. The Pharisees’ question connects two themes that Jesus decides to separate.
It’s often said that the Jews of Jesus’ day were looking for the messiah. But what does that mean? Some Jews thought of a messiah as a military figure who would lead Judaism to independence and national restoration. In Jesus’ day the nation, and the religion, were fractured into different sects and territories. This messiah figure would unite them all and establish God’s reign for a glorious future. Other people in the past where thought to have done similar things. King David was called a messiah. Persian king Cyrus was called messiah. Each had something to do with restoring the government and religion.
Those hopes and expectations also got mixed into another idea of a messiah. Some Jews didn’t see the messiah as someone sent by God who would restore earthly Judaism for a period of time. They saw the messiah as someone God would send at the end of time. All things in the world would be brought to their ultimate conclusion.
So, the Pharisees question is when the kingdom of God is coming. What does that refer to? Is it the restoration of God’s reign on earth, or is it the end of time? Jesus responds to both possibilities.
First, he says, “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There it is!’ For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.”
This challenges what the Pharisees expect. There will be no national militaristic figure who will bring about restoration and independence. That is not how God’s kingdom works at all. All through Jesus’ ministry he has not explicitly said, “I am bringing about the kingdom of God right here and right now.” But that is in effect what he has been teaching. They should not look for God’s kingdom as a military victory and political restoration. The kingdom of God is an orientation of life that Jesus’ followers will exhibit. And collectively, among them, it does have real world effects.
Here's the problem with all ideas of the kingdom of God being a military or political enterprise. Many Jews of Jesus’ day thought that when the kingdom of God came the bad guys would get what’s been coming to them, and they (the Jews) would rightfully be restored and recognized as the true believers all along. For centuries there were teachings in Judaism that all the world would come to them for salvation.
But that attitude is filled with arrogance, even if only subtly so. If the kingdom comes with political or military forms that means that one group becomes the winners and others are the losers. While being on the winning side can feed your ego, and being on the losing side feels horrible or shameful, it doesn’t actually change the human condition at all. The idea is based on the vision that God will just rearrange who’s winning and who’s losing.
The same dynamic plays out in politics, business, warfare, and social dynamics today. I feel like many of the tensions between liberals and conservatives is just moral posturing over the other. Each claims to have the moral high ground. Each funds research and studies to prove themselves right and the other wrong. Of course, someone wins and someone loses; or else you end up fighting it out endlessly.
Now, I am not above this. I have my thoughts and opinions. I like to think that my position is right and morally superior, and that others are wrong and inferior. Ultimately I tell myself that if everyone just did things my way, the world would be a better place. (But woe to you all if I got my way. I’m pretty sure the world would be in far worse shape than it is now!)
The kingdom of God that Jesus inaugurates is a fundamental change of heart and motive. The entire gospel of Luke can be summed up as a conflict between two kingdoms. On one side is the kingdom of this world. In seminary one professor called it, “The Redistributive Economics of Exploitation.” It doesn’t matter what economic system you use: laisse-fare capitalism, neo-liberalism, communism, socialism, or any mix thereof, the same things end up happening. An elite class emerges that controls the key resources and others are exploited to serve the elite. It’s the way the world ends up working in all societies; across all races and cultures.
The professor called the other kingdom, “The Divine Economy of Promised Compassion.” Here we have a way of being that changes the heart. It is based on all people recognizing their need for God, and that they are loved by God. It means building your life around a relationship with God first and foremost. This is not a sweet, sappy, sentimentalist, pie-in-the-sky ideology. The divine economy of promised compassion requires hard work and diligence from everyone. It makes all decisions and does all things based on being in relationship with God. It’s not about ecology or superior morality. It’s about truly trusting God. We’ve hit these themes many times before:
It says that I do not need a life of endless hollow consumption.
It says that my value is not measured by the impressions I make on other people.
It says that I will use my abilities to contribute to the good of all, even when doing so is hard and tedious.
It says that I know I am held by God into eternal life, so that even how long I live does not matter. So it’s not worth worrying about or expending energy on.
This is the kingdom of God that Jesus is ushering in. It’s not going to lead to any military conquests or government restoration. No one gets to be the winners with moral high ground over others. All need God’s compassion and all live that out.
When the Pharisees ask Jesus, “When?” he’s telling them that it’s already happening. It’s not overtly visible as a great movement or army though. It is an orientation of life. They’re invited to have it.
That takes us to the second part of the issue about the kingdom of God. What about the end of time stuff? What about God bringing an end to the world and an end to all pain, suffering, and misery? That’s a separate issue, but one that ties into what Jesus has said.
Jesus says that one will be taken and the other left. Don’t get too literal about this. Jesus often taught with parables and extreme images. The point is not that at the rapture many cars will suddenly become driverless. The point is that everyday life will continue. Those who are saved and those who are not – meaning those who live by the divine economy of promised compassion, and those who live by redistributive economics of exploitation – will all be doing their thing. They may be indistinguishable. Those in God’s kingdom do not leave the world and take on holy callings that are noticeably different. All still need to eat and sleep. But the point is that it may happen suddenly. Don’t strategize thinking that you’ll wait for signs and only then decide to become a faithful person. True faith is a disposition. It is not a strategy to get ahead with either God or humanity. To scheme with Christian faith is to show that you don’t really have faith.
We’ll conclude with the frustrating yet humorous end of the passage. We began with the Pharisees asking Jesus “when”. Now at the end the disciples ask “where”. Have they not been listening at all? Did they not understand a word Jesus said? Jesus said it is not about when, it is already happening. And if it is happening it is also not a matter of where. It is everywhere! But the disciples don’t get it either. Once again we find that the disciples of Jesus are really no closer to the truth than Jesus’ opponents.
It’s hard for us as well. We truly need God’s promise of divine compassion for our lives. Life will always be a struggle. There will be work, pain, and uncertainty. We’ll never get it perfectly right. But God will remain perfectly faithful. For that we live with expectation and hope.
It inspires vivid images in my imagination, but all of that misses the point of what Jesus is trying to get across. We remember that Jesus often taught in parables, images, and used great exaggerations. Taking these verses literally misses the real point.
Jesus, who we’ll remember is on his way to Jerusalem with a group of his followers, is asked by some Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming. The Pharisees’ question connects two themes that Jesus decides to separate.
It’s often said that the Jews of Jesus’ day were looking for the messiah. But what does that mean? Some Jews thought of a messiah as a military figure who would lead Judaism to independence and national restoration. In Jesus’ day the nation, and the religion, were fractured into different sects and territories. This messiah figure would unite them all and establish God’s reign for a glorious future. Other people in the past where thought to have done similar things. King David was called a messiah. Persian king Cyrus was called messiah. Each had something to do with restoring the government and religion.
Those hopes and expectations also got mixed into another idea of a messiah. Some Jews didn’t see the messiah as someone sent by God who would restore earthly Judaism for a period of time. They saw the messiah as someone God would send at the end of time. All things in the world would be brought to their ultimate conclusion.
So, the Pharisees question is when the kingdom of God is coming. What does that refer to? Is it the restoration of God’s reign on earth, or is it the end of time? Jesus responds to both possibilities.
First, he says, “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There it is!’ For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.”
This challenges what the Pharisees expect. There will be no national militaristic figure who will bring about restoration and independence. That is not how God’s kingdom works at all. All through Jesus’ ministry he has not explicitly said, “I am bringing about the kingdom of God right here and right now.” But that is in effect what he has been teaching. They should not look for God’s kingdom as a military victory and political restoration. The kingdom of God is an orientation of life that Jesus’ followers will exhibit. And collectively, among them, it does have real world effects.
Here's the problem with all ideas of the kingdom of God being a military or political enterprise. Many Jews of Jesus’ day thought that when the kingdom of God came the bad guys would get what’s been coming to them, and they (the Jews) would rightfully be restored and recognized as the true believers all along. For centuries there were teachings in Judaism that all the world would come to them for salvation.
But that attitude is filled with arrogance, even if only subtly so. If the kingdom comes with political or military forms that means that one group becomes the winners and others are the losers. While being on the winning side can feed your ego, and being on the losing side feels horrible or shameful, it doesn’t actually change the human condition at all. The idea is based on the vision that God will just rearrange who’s winning and who’s losing.
The same dynamic plays out in politics, business, warfare, and social dynamics today. I feel like many of the tensions between liberals and conservatives is just moral posturing over the other. Each claims to have the moral high ground. Each funds research and studies to prove themselves right and the other wrong. Of course, someone wins and someone loses; or else you end up fighting it out endlessly.
Now, I am not above this. I have my thoughts and opinions. I like to think that my position is right and morally superior, and that others are wrong and inferior. Ultimately I tell myself that if everyone just did things my way, the world would be a better place. (But woe to you all if I got my way. I’m pretty sure the world would be in far worse shape than it is now!)
The kingdom of God that Jesus inaugurates is a fundamental change of heart and motive. The entire gospel of Luke can be summed up as a conflict between two kingdoms. On one side is the kingdom of this world. In seminary one professor called it, “The Redistributive Economics of Exploitation.” It doesn’t matter what economic system you use: laisse-fare capitalism, neo-liberalism, communism, socialism, or any mix thereof, the same things end up happening. An elite class emerges that controls the key resources and others are exploited to serve the elite. It’s the way the world ends up working in all societies; across all races and cultures.
The professor called the other kingdom, “The Divine Economy of Promised Compassion.” Here we have a way of being that changes the heart. It is based on all people recognizing their need for God, and that they are loved by God. It means building your life around a relationship with God first and foremost. This is not a sweet, sappy, sentimentalist, pie-in-the-sky ideology. The divine economy of promised compassion requires hard work and diligence from everyone. It makes all decisions and does all things based on being in relationship with God. It’s not about ecology or superior morality. It’s about truly trusting God. We’ve hit these themes many times before:
It says that I do not need a life of endless hollow consumption.
It says that my value is not measured by the impressions I make on other people.
It says that I will use my abilities to contribute to the good of all, even when doing so is hard and tedious.
It says that I know I am held by God into eternal life, so that even how long I live does not matter. So it’s not worth worrying about or expending energy on.
This is the kingdom of God that Jesus is ushering in. It’s not going to lead to any military conquests or government restoration. No one gets to be the winners with moral high ground over others. All need God’s compassion and all live that out.
When the Pharisees ask Jesus, “When?” he’s telling them that it’s already happening. It’s not overtly visible as a great movement or army though. It is an orientation of life. They’re invited to have it.
That takes us to the second part of the issue about the kingdom of God. What about the end of time stuff? What about God bringing an end to the world and an end to all pain, suffering, and misery? That’s a separate issue, but one that ties into what Jesus has said.
Jesus says that one will be taken and the other left. Don’t get too literal about this. Jesus often taught with parables and extreme images. The point is not that at the rapture many cars will suddenly become driverless. The point is that everyday life will continue. Those who are saved and those who are not – meaning those who live by the divine economy of promised compassion, and those who live by redistributive economics of exploitation – will all be doing their thing. They may be indistinguishable. Those in God’s kingdom do not leave the world and take on holy callings that are noticeably different. All still need to eat and sleep. But the point is that it may happen suddenly. Don’t strategize thinking that you’ll wait for signs and only then decide to become a faithful person. True faith is a disposition. It is not a strategy to get ahead with either God or humanity. To scheme with Christian faith is to show that you don’t really have faith.
We’ll conclude with the frustrating yet humorous end of the passage. We began with the Pharisees asking Jesus “when”. Now at the end the disciples ask “where”. Have they not been listening at all? Did they not understand a word Jesus said? Jesus said it is not about when, it is already happening. And if it is happening it is also not a matter of where. It is everywhere! But the disciples don’t get it either. Once again we find that the disciples of Jesus are really no closer to the truth than Jesus’ opponents.
It’s hard for us as well. We truly need God’s promise of divine compassion for our lives. Life will always be a struggle. There will be work, pain, and uncertainty. We’ll never get it perfectly right. But God will remain perfectly faithful. For that we live with expectation and hope.
Monday, October 6, 2025
October 5, 2025 Luke 17:11-19
What is joy? It’s one of those easy questions to ask but a somewhat hard thing to define. If I take an old school approach I turn to Webster’s dictionary. There I find, “the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something good or satisfying; keen pleasure.” Okay. That sounds good. But how do I attain it? I think we all want to feel joy but it’s not something you can just get with a formula and calculations. While there are things you can do increase your chances of feeling joy, often it just happens unexpectedly. You can’t guarantee that it will happen. I think we’ve all felt joy doing something or being some place. Then sometime later we try to recreate it but it doesn’t work. Or perhaps it does work but with declining returns. Joy is something we want but can’t really get our hands on; and certainly can’t control.
I think that helps to prepare us to engage what is going on in our gospel reading for today. In his typical style of withholding essential information until just the moment when he decides to reveal it, Luke holds off telling us the ethnicity of the one leper who returned to give thanks to Jesus. We’re well into the story before we learn that the only character who is praised was a foreigner. That is jarring. But we’re okay with that because that’s the way good storytellers often do things. What we’re not okay with, but what Luke seems to have done, is to yank the logic of the story out from under us as well.
You’ll remember that for these last several chapters Jesus has been traveling to Jerusalem with a (possibly large) group of followers. He’s talking and teaching along the way. He also eats meals in various places. He gets into some controversies with members of the Pharisee sect. As the gospel reading for today begins, he’s back on the road. We’re told that he’s traveling between Samaria and Galilee. So far so good.
Jesus has entered a village and is approached by ten lepers. Leprosy could refer to any number of skin conditions. Some of them were contagious and deadly. Everyone diagnosed with leprosy was separated from the healthy population. People with leprosy would often band together into groups apart from the rest of society. Since their condition may be contagious they knew they could not come into close proximity with others. We understand perfectly then when we’re told the ten lepers cry out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” They’re keeping their distance. Here, though, Luke is leading us down a false path. That Jewish people would recognize Jesus and call him master is something we’d expect. So our minds automatically, yet incorrectly, make the assumption that all ten are Jewish.
Jesus tells them to go and show themselves to the priests. Luke continues to allow our assumption to go unchallenged. Yet he is pulling us into a trap. Both Jews and Samaritans had priests. In both cases priests were the ones who were to make examinations of people with leprosy. Only a priest could declare a person cured. The only difference between Jews and Samaritans in this regard is that Jewish people would go to Jerusalem to be examined by a priest, and Samaritan people would go to Samaria to be examined by one of their own priests.
Again, Luke is allowing the story to develop before us with our incorrect assumptions intact. The story continues as we’re told that as the lepers went on their way they were cured. That was a great thing to happen to them! Then we’re told that only one of them returns. That one, despite not being examined by a priest, knows that he is no longer contagious. So this time he comes right up to Jesus, falls at his feet, and gives thanks with a loud voice.
But there is where Luke pulls his trick of giving us the detail that the man was a Samaritan. We realize that we made a reasonable, but incorrect, assumption. We might be a little annoyed at being tricked like this, but that’s just what Luke does. Then, almost at the same moment we realize we’ve made a mistake, Luke also yanks the logic out of the story. Jesus says, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?”
At the same moment that we’re surprised that a foreigner, who shares neither religion nor nationality with Jesus, is the only one who is being thankful, we’re also a little puzzled with Jesus. Didn’t he just tell them all to go and show themselves to the priests. As the story is told, the Samaritan realizes his cure along the way. So presumably the rest are still on their way. They are directly obeying Jesus’ command. They are following orders. Yet now Jesus seems upset that they haven’t disobeyed him and returned with gratitude. Plus, if they did have a contagious disease, is it not smart to get an expert opinion before going back into contact with people?
It is the Samaritan who is, in a sense, being disobedient to Jesus. It is the Samaritan who is putting people’s health at risk. Yet Jesus commends him for it! What is going on here?
When I encounter things in the Bible that don’t make sense I turn to the experts. Over the years I have amassed an arsenal of commentaries written by experts who pour over the Bible’s stories for their whole lives. They almost always have insights I can use to make sense of what is going on. True, sometimes they are stumped. Some things they cannot decipher no matter how hard they try. But even so, they can usually make some educated guesses. So how do they handle this breakdown of logic in this story?
Let’s say – not very well. Many just ignore it. Friedrick Schleiermacher, a famous highly influential German theologian from centuries ago, concludes that the story is “negligently told.” (Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Volume 8, Pg. 297)
That’s not much help! No matter how much logic and brain power you apply to this text it leaves you baffled. But George Arthur Buttrick has what seems to me to be the right idea. He suggests that the story is not negligently told at all. Instead, it is expertly told, just as all of Luke’s gospel is. And Luke has deliberately shaped the story so as to trip us up in our assumptions of the nationality of the lepers, and then almost immediately afterwards, logic drops out from under us as well. Why? Because Luke wants us to realize something that logic cannot analyze.
I started off asking what is joy? Now I ask, what is gratitude? You can teach a child to say thank you. A child may obey you in it and learn to express gratitude. But is that really gratitude or is it just social conditioning? I’m sure we’ve all said thank you after receiving a gift, when our real thoughts are that we can’t wait to throw away or donate the item as quickly as possible!
But what is real gratitude? What is that deep feeling of thankfulness, and even joy, at receiving something? It is always something unexpected, and something that makes us feel like we are forever in debt to the person who gave it. We feel completely undeserving of it.
Perhaps all of the lepers who were cleansed felt thankfulness and some gratitude to Jesus. But it is only the Samaritan who is so overwhelmed with gratitude that he disobeys Jesus’ words and comes back, disregarding boundaries of safety, and throws himself at Jesus’ feet.
I don’t believe this story is intended to be a racist story. I don’t believe Luke is criticizing Jews and uplifting Samaritans as if they were somehow better. But Luke is making use of the general Jewish disdain for Samaritans. He is showing that God’s grace can appear in outsiders and in unexpected places. God’s grace is not the property and privilege of a select group. God’s grace is not logical. It is not controllable. It is not predictable. It is God’s sovereignty.
Try not to be too jealous when it appears that God’s grace is coming to others who seem less worthy than you think you are. Do not become distressed that you cannot use logic to manufacture joy or gratitude within yourself. Luke has told us a story that breaks the rules of proper storytelling to show us that God is not bound by the rules.
And ultimately, whether we ever feel like we’re receiving God’s grace or not, here is the ultimate truth. Death is the end of us. That is fact. That is logic. That is the rules. But it is God’s promise of irrational, illogical, impossible, and overwhelming grace, that says that death is not the end. Eternal life is grace.
That is our hope, our dream, our striving, and our joy. It is God’s promised joy for us all.
I think that helps to prepare us to engage what is going on in our gospel reading for today. In his typical style of withholding essential information until just the moment when he decides to reveal it, Luke holds off telling us the ethnicity of the one leper who returned to give thanks to Jesus. We’re well into the story before we learn that the only character who is praised was a foreigner. That is jarring. But we’re okay with that because that’s the way good storytellers often do things. What we’re not okay with, but what Luke seems to have done, is to yank the logic of the story out from under us as well.
You’ll remember that for these last several chapters Jesus has been traveling to Jerusalem with a (possibly large) group of followers. He’s talking and teaching along the way. He also eats meals in various places. He gets into some controversies with members of the Pharisee sect. As the gospel reading for today begins, he’s back on the road. We’re told that he’s traveling between Samaria and Galilee. So far so good.
Jesus has entered a village and is approached by ten lepers. Leprosy could refer to any number of skin conditions. Some of them were contagious and deadly. Everyone diagnosed with leprosy was separated from the healthy population. People with leprosy would often band together into groups apart from the rest of society. Since their condition may be contagious they knew they could not come into close proximity with others. We understand perfectly then when we’re told the ten lepers cry out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” They’re keeping their distance. Here, though, Luke is leading us down a false path. That Jewish people would recognize Jesus and call him master is something we’d expect. So our minds automatically, yet incorrectly, make the assumption that all ten are Jewish.
Jesus tells them to go and show themselves to the priests. Luke continues to allow our assumption to go unchallenged. Yet he is pulling us into a trap. Both Jews and Samaritans had priests. In both cases priests were the ones who were to make examinations of people with leprosy. Only a priest could declare a person cured. The only difference between Jews and Samaritans in this regard is that Jewish people would go to Jerusalem to be examined by a priest, and Samaritan people would go to Samaria to be examined by one of their own priests.
Again, Luke is allowing the story to develop before us with our incorrect assumptions intact. The story continues as we’re told that as the lepers went on their way they were cured. That was a great thing to happen to them! Then we’re told that only one of them returns. That one, despite not being examined by a priest, knows that he is no longer contagious. So this time he comes right up to Jesus, falls at his feet, and gives thanks with a loud voice.
But there is where Luke pulls his trick of giving us the detail that the man was a Samaritan. We realize that we made a reasonable, but incorrect, assumption. We might be a little annoyed at being tricked like this, but that’s just what Luke does. Then, almost at the same moment we realize we’ve made a mistake, Luke also yanks the logic out of the story. Jesus says, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?”
At the same moment that we’re surprised that a foreigner, who shares neither religion nor nationality with Jesus, is the only one who is being thankful, we’re also a little puzzled with Jesus. Didn’t he just tell them all to go and show themselves to the priests. As the story is told, the Samaritan realizes his cure along the way. So presumably the rest are still on their way. They are directly obeying Jesus’ command. They are following orders. Yet now Jesus seems upset that they haven’t disobeyed him and returned with gratitude. Plus, if they did have a contagious disease, is it not smart to get an expert opinion before going back into contact with people?
It is the Samaritan who is, in a sense, being disobedient to Jesus. It is the Samaritan who is putting people’s health at risk. Yet Jesus commends him for it! What is going on here?
When I encounter things in the Bible that don’t make sense I turn to the experts. Over the years I have amassed an arsenal of commentaries written by experts who pour over the Bible’s stories for their whole lives. They almost always have insights I can use to make sense of what is going on. True, sometimes they are stumped. Some things they cannot decipher no matter how hard they try. But even so, they can usually make some educated guesses. So how do they handle this breakdown of logic in this story?
Let’s say – not very well. Many just ignore it. Friedrick Schleiermacher, a famous highly influential German theologian from centuries ago, concludes that the story is “negligently told.” (Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, Volume 8, Pg. 297)
That’s not much help! No matter how much logic and brain power you apply to this text it leaves you baffled. But George Arthur Buttrick has what seems to me to be the right idea. He suggests that the story is not negligently told at all. Instead, it is expertly told, just as all of Luke’s gospel is. And Luke has deliberately shaped the story so as to trip us up in our assumptions of the nationality of the lepers, and then almost immediately afterwards, logic drops out from under us as well. Why? Because Luke wants us to realize something that logic cannot analyze.
I started off asking what is joy? Now I ask, what is gratitude? You can teach a child to say thank you. A child may obey you in it and learn to express gratitude. But is that really gratitude or is it just social conditioning? I’m sure we’ve all said thank you after receiving a gift, when our real thoughts are that we can’t wait to throw away or donate the item as quickly as possible!
But what is real gratitude? What is that deep feeling of thankfulness, and even joy, at receiving something? It is always something unexpected, and something that makes us feel like we are forever in debt to the person who gave it. We feel completely undeserving of it.
Perhaps all of the lepers who were cleansed felt thankfulness and some gratitude to Jesus. But it is only the Samaritan who is so overwhelmed with gratitude that he disobeys Jesus’ words and comes back, disregarding boundaries of safety, and throws himself at Jesus’ feet.
I don’t believe this story is intended to be a racist story. I don’t believe Luke is criticizing Jews and uplifting Samaritans as if they were somehow better. But Luke is making use of the general Jewish disdain for Samaritans. He is showing that God’s grace can appear in outsiders and in unexpected places. God’s grace is not the property and privilege of a select group. God’s grace is not logical. It is not controllable. It is not predictable. It is God’s sovereignty.
Try not to be too jealous when it appears that God’s grace is coming to others who seem less worthy than you think you are. Do not become distressed that you cannot use logic to manufacture joy or gratitude within yourself. Luke has told us a story that breaks the rules of proper storytelling to show us that God is not bound by the rules.
And ultimately, whether we ever feel like we’re receiving God’s grace or not, here is the ultimate truth. Death is the end of us. That is fact. That is logic. That is the rules. But it is God’s promise of irrational, illogical, impossible, and overwhelming grace, that says that death is not the end. Eternal life is grace.
That is our hope, our dream, our striving, and our joy. It is God’s promised joy for us all.
Wednesday, October 1, 2025
September 28, 2025 Luke 17:1-10
The verses that we read in our gospel reading may have felt disorganized and perhaps angry. Jesus seems to be jumping from topic to topic. He’s talking about hanging millstones around necks, being slaves who aren’t appreciated, and having no faith to speak of. Who would want to be a follower of someone like this?
The best way I’ve heard to understand this is to realize that it comes after a long series of teachings. Jesus is pulling together several themes he has touched on, and he is taking them one step further. From about halfway through chapter 11 of Luke’s gospel on to about where we are now in chapter 17 it can be helpful to imagine yourself as someone sitting in a theater watching a musical or play. Picture Jesus standing center stage. There’s a spotlight on him the whole time. Off to one side of Jesus is a big group of people who Luke would call Jesus’ disciples. But don’t picture them as the 12 apostles. This is a broader group of people who generally poor. They’re day laborers, subsistence farmers, fishermen, farm hands, etc. Off to the other side of Jesus is a big group of people who are his opponents. Luke usually just calls them “Pharisees” but it’s best to understand that as a catch-all term for people who are educated and well-to-do. The systems of society and the economy work for them. Because of that they seem to think they have God’s blessings on their lives. They subtly perceive themselves to somehow be better than those on the other side of Jesus.
As we see these chapters unfold on the stage in front of us it is as if sometimes a spotlight turns on to the disciples and the Pharisees are in semi-darkness. Jesus addresses his words to his followers but the Pharisees are overhearing him. Then the spotlight on the disciples turns off and one turns on over the Pharisees. Jesus now talks to them, but Jesus’ followers are still there on stage overhearing his words.
Back and forth it goes, chapter after chapter. Jesus’ words are addressed to different groups but no group ever leaves the stage. This means that we’re to understand that both groups hear everything Jesus says.
That part of the play is now wrapping up in chapter 17. At this point there’s a spotlight on the disciples. The teaching is directed towards them. The things Jesus is saying are not a scattered bunch of unrelated teachings, but a summary of the last few chapters’ worth of materials.
Jesus says, “Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, but woe to anyone by whom they come! It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble.” Who are the little ones? Last week we read the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. Lazarus was one of the little ones. So too are the poor, crippled, blind, and the lame. While Jesus has been largely criticizing the Pharisees, when he says, “Occasions for stumbling are bound to come…” he is reminding his followers that they are not immune from the sense of superiority the Pharisees have.
Jesus knows full well our human tendencies. We seem to always be establishing a pecking order with some people on the top and others beneath them. The Pharisees felt smug over the poor. Jesus criticized them for that. And, as Jesus teaches about God reversing the fortunes of the rich and the poor, now the poor could also fall into a trap of feeling morally superior because of their poverty. Jesus doesn’t want that to happen either.
Jesus is preaching God’s new economy of life, which brings forth both a call to repentance and a promise of compassion. In the new order none claim superiority or inferiority. All live with the call to repentance and the promise of divine compassion.
Jesus’ next words to his disciples are that they must now forgive others endlessly. If their lives are truly oriented around repentance and God’s promise of compassion for them, forgiveness is now no longer a scorecard of wrongs. You don’t get to tally how many times a person fails and asks for forgiveness. Then at some point they’ve reached the limit and you cut them off. The simple act of tallying the times you forgive someone runs counter to the nature of true forgiveness. True forgiveness does not keep track.
This is a teaching that has been exploited many times. I once supervised an intern pastor who I felt was exploitative and abusive. He would say to people, “You’re a Christian. You have to forgive me over and over.” That’s abusive and exploitative. You can’t leverage forgiveness out of other people. Jesus did not intend victims of abuse to hear this and feel like they are trapped in cycles of destruction. This teaching is meant to convey that since we are all sinners who inevitably will stumble frequently, that since God is richly forgiving we should be too.
(As an aside, that intern pastor I mentioned was removed from the program.)
Even so, this is a hard teaching. God being richly forgiving and therefore we are to be richly forgiving is a very difficult thing to live out! The apostles reply, “Increase our faith!”
Notice the shift in language that just happened there. Luke is pretty precise in the way he uses words. When he says, “disciples” he generally means the group of people who are following Jesus. There could be any number of them, men and women. But when he says “apostles” he means the 12 closest followers of Jesus. So now it is as if the spotlight on stage has gone off of the general group of Jesus’ disciples and a very focused light is on just the 12. They say, “Increase our faith!” Indeed, this demand for forgiveness is going to take a lot of faith to live out.
In response we expect Jesus to say something nice to them. The apostles have recognized a weakness within themselves. They are wisely turning to their Lord and asking for what they need to deal with that weakness. Jesus should commend them for their priorities and insightfulness. But…
Jesus replies, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”
Remember, the spotlight has narrowed to just Jesus and the 12 apostles. If anyone in the story should have faith it would be these 12 followers. Yet Jesus basically says that even they, his closest 12, are entirely lacking in what it takes. That’s really tough thing for Jesus to say!
What the apostles have missed, and what is so very easy for us to miss too, is that faith is not a commodity to be had; or a commodity to be increased or decreased. Faith is not a possession. It is, perhaps, better described as a disposition toward life.
When we build our lives around the ways of the world our attitude towards money, possessions, and status, will be fundamentally unfaithful. Our life priorities will be just plain wrong. When we build our lives around the inbreaking kingdom of God that Jesus proclaims, we are automatically faithful in all that we have. Such an attitude would not make a request like, “Increase our faith.” It would simply live into it.
But this is very hard. Luke has done a good job of showing that even the closest 12 followers of Jesus didn’t get it. We shouldn’t be too hard on ourselves if we struggle with it. The point is not so much to get it right as it is to have the humility to know that you never will really get it totally right. Remember what Jesus said at the beginning of this section. “Occasions for stumbling are sure to come…” That is Jesus’ compassion.
The final thing Jesus says in this section is also troublesome to us. He says, “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table.’ Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink.’? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’”
That one may sting. Are we really to live our lives devoted to God and at the end of it all think of ourselves, “We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!” Are we worthless before God? Does God not appreciate how hard being a follower of Jesus usually is?
Jesus uses this image because it wraps up all that he has been teaching. It is an effective one. But we trip over it because our understanding of appreciation and value is different than theirs.
Jesus is using a common image. People knew well the dynamics of a master/slave relationship. And remember, slavery in those days was fundamentally different than the systemic permanent racial slavery of the United States. Slavery in those days was rarely life-long. The Old Testament has many rules about the treatment of slaves and the duration of their enslavement. So within their understanding, a slave who has done all that he or she has been ordered to do has simply fulfilled their master’s wishes. The slave is owed nothing more. When Jesus says that we are to see ourselves as “worthless slaves” he does not mean that we are useless. He means that our faithfulness to God does then therefore put God under obligation to do us any favors. Said differently, there is no “worth” that we can give to God that would put God in debt to us. We cannot pray, “God, I did this for you. Now you must do for me what I want.”
It all sums up like this. In these last chapters we may have found ourselves scowling at the Pharisees for their hypocrisy and sense of superiority. And we may have smiled upon the poorer disciples for their humility and authenticity. But by all of these words Jesus points out that: rich or poor, powerful or weak, educated or ignorant, kind or cruel, all people have the same base instincts at work in them. All are capable of twisting the ways of the world to their benefit. All are capable of twisting the promises of God to their benefit as well. Even as we strive to do our best to be faithful people living out God’s promises in our lives, we know that we will do so imperfectly at best. Yet we strive anyway, and we can count on God being with us always in our striving.
The best way I’ve heard to understand this is to realize that it comes after a long series of teachings. Jesus is pulling together several themes he has touched on, and he is taking them one step further. From about halfway through chapter 11 of Luke’s gospel on to about where we are now in chapter 17 it can be helpful to imagine yourself as someone sitting in a theater watching a musical or play. Picture Jesus standing center stage. There’s a spotlight on him the whole time. Off to one side of Jesus is a big group of people who Luke would call Jesus’ disciples. But don’t picture them as the 12 apostles. This is a broader group of people who generally poor. They’re day laborers, subsistence farmers, fishermen, farm hands, etc. Off to the other side of Jesus is a big group of people who are his opponents. Luke usually just calls them “Pharisees” but it’s best to understand that as a catch-all term for people who are educated and well-to-do. The systems of society and the economy work for them. Because of that they seem to think they have God’s blessings on their lives. They subtly perceive themselves to somehow be better than those on the other side of Jesus.
As we see these chapters unfold on the stage in front of us it is as if sometimes a spotlight turns on to the disciples and the Pharisees are in semi-darkness. Jesus addresses his words to his followers but the Pharisees are overhearing him. Then the spotlight on the disciples turns off and one turns on over the Pharisees. Jesus now talks to them, but Jesus’ followers are still there on stage overhearing his words.
Back and forth it goes, chapter after chapter. Jesus’ words are addressed to different groups but no group ever leaves the stage. This means that we’re to understand that both groups hear everything Jesus says.
That part of the play is now wrapping up in chapter 17. At this point there’s a spotlight on the disciples. The teaching is directed towards them. The things Jesus is saying are not a scattered bunch of unrelated teachings, but a summary of the last few chapters’ worth of materials.
Jesus says, “Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, but woe to anyone by whom they come! It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble.” Who are the little ones? Last week we read the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. Lazarus was one of the little ones. So too are the poor, crippled, blind, and the lame. While Jesus has been largely criticizing the Pharisees, when he says, “Occasions for stumbling are bound to come…” he is reminding his followers that they are not immune from the sense of superiority the Pharisees have.
Jesus knows full well our human tendencies. We seem to always be establishing a pecking order with some people on the top and others beneath them. The Pharisees felt smug over the poor. Jesus criticized them for that. And, as Jesus teaches about God reversing the fortunes of the rich and the poor, now the poor could also fall into a trap of feeling morally superior because of their poverty. Jesus doesn’t want that to happen either.
Jesus is preaching God’s new economy of life, which brings forth both a call to repentance and a promise of compassion. In the new order none claim superiority or inferiority. All live with the call to repentance and the promise of divine compassion.
Jesus’ next words to his disciples are that they must now forgive others endlessly. If their lives are truly oriented around repentance and God’s promise of compassion for them, forgiveness is now no longer a scorecard of wrongs. You don’t get to tally how many times a person fails and asks for forgiveness. Then at some point they’ve reached the limit and you cut them off. The simple act of tallying the times you forgive someone runs counter to the nature of true forgiveness. True forgiveness does not keep track.
This is a teaching that has been exploited many times. I once supervised an intern pastor who I felt was exploitative and abusive. He would say to people, “You’re a Christian. You have to forgive me over and over.” That’s abusive and exploitative. You can’t leverage forgiveness out of other people. Jesus did not intend victims of abuse to hear this and feel like they are trapped in cycles of destruction. This teaching is meant to convey that since we are all sinners who inevitably will stumble frequently, that since God is richly forgiving we should be too.
(As an aside, that intern pastor I mentioned was removed from the program.)
Even so, this is a hard teaching. God being richly forgiving and therefore we are to be richly forgiving is a very difficult thing to live out! The apostles reply, “Increase our faith!”
Notice the shift in language that just happened there. Luke is pretty precise in the way he uses words. When he says, “disciples” he generally means the group of people who are following Jesus. There could be any number of them, men and women. But when he says “apostles” he means the 12 closest followers of Jesus. So now it is as if the spotlight on stage has gone off of the general group of Jesus’ disciples and a very focused light is on just the 12. They say, “Increase our faith!” Indeed, this demand for forgiveness is going to take a lot of faith to live out.
In response we expect Jesus to say something nice to them. The apostles have recognized a weakness within themselves. They are wisely turning to their Lord and asking for what they need to deal with that weakness. Jesus should commend them for their priorities and insightfulness. But…
Jesus replies, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”
Remember, the spotlight has narrowed to just Jesus and the 12 apostles. If anyone in the story should have faith it would be these 12 followers. Yet Jesus basically says that even they, his closest 12, are entirely lacking in what it takes. That’s really tough thing for Jesus to say!
What the apostles have missed, and what is so very easy for us to miss too, is that faith is not a commodity to be had; or a commodity to be increased or decreased. Faith is not a possession. It is, perhaps, better described as a disposition toward life.
When we build our lives around the ways of the world our attitude towards money, possessions, and status, will be fundamentally unfaithful. Our life priorities will be just plain wrong. When we build our lives around the inbreaking kingdom of God that Jesus proclaims, we are automatically faithful in all that we have. Such an attitude would not make a request like, “Increase our faith.” It would simply live into it.
But this is very hard. Luke has done a good job of showing that even the closest 12 followers of Jesus didn’t get it. We shouldn’t be too hard on ourselves if we struggle with it. The point is not so much to get it right as it is to have the humility to know that you never will really get it totally right. Remember what Jesus said at the beginning of this section. “Occasions for stumbling are sure to come…” That is Jesus’ compassion.
The final thing Jesus says in this section is also troublesome to us. He says, “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table.’ Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink.’? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’”
That one may sting. Are we really to live our lives devoted to God and at the end of it all think of ourselves, “We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!” Are we worthless before God? Does God not appreciate how hard being a follower of Jesus usually is?
Jesus uses this image because it wraps up all that he has been teaching. It is an effective one. But we trip over it because our understanding of appreciation and value is different than theirs.
Jesus is using a common image. People knew well the dynamics of a master/slave relationship. And remember, slavery in those days was fundamentally different than the systemic permanent racial slavery of the United States. Slavery in those days was rarely life-long. The Old Testament has many rules about the treatment of slaves and the duration of their enslavement. So within their understanding, a slave who has done all that he or she has been ordered to do has simply fulfilled their master’s wishes. The slave is owed nothing more. When Jesus says that we are to see ourselves as “worthless slaves” he does not mean that we are useless. He means that our faithfulness to God does then therefore put God under obligation to do us any favors. Said differently, there is no “worth” that we can give to God that would put God in debt to us. We cannot pray, “God, I did this for you. Now you must do for me what I want.”
It all sums up like this. In these last chapters we may have found ourselves scowling at the Pharisees for their hypocrisy and sense of superiority. And we may have smiled upon the poorer disciples for their humility and authenticity. But by all of these words Jesus points out that: rich or poor, powerful or weak, educated or ignorant, kind or cruel, all people have the same base instincts at work in them. All are capable of twisting the ways of the world to their benefit. All are capable of twisting the promises of God to their benefit as well. Even as we strive to do our best to be faithful people living out God’s promises in our lives, we know that we will do so imperfectly at best. Yet we strive anyway, and we can count on God being with us always in our striving.
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