Monuments

Passage: Luke19:45-48

Each of the four New Testament Gospels includes the account of “Jesus cleansing the temple.”  In each, Jesus arrives in Jerusalem, enters the outer (or “Gentile”) court of the temple, and begins to drive out and overturn the tables of “the money changers and those who were buying and selling”.  Why does Jesus make such a scene?

Jesus clears the temple.  Why?

According to Jesus’ own words, “It is written, ‘My house will be a house of prayer’; but you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’”

What’s Jesus talking about?

For the history of God’s chosen people, God has allowed them select monuments, or physical reminders of his presence with them.  During their sojourn in the wilderness, God instructed the Israelites to periodically build altars, and provided them the tabernacle, a portable worship space.  Once they were well-established in their own country, God blessed his people to build a permanent place of worship.  It was always termed “God’s house”; and God’s people were under strict instructions to confine their sacrifices and offerings to this space.  They at times took this to mean that the temple was the only place on earth God could be found.  God dispels this notion through the Old Testament prophets, including Jeremiah who declares that God will be found by the exiles in Babylon (Jeremiah 29:10-14). 

That being said, the temple was always intended to be a monument to God’s presence, grace and glory.  This changed in 20 BC when Herod the Great, king of Judea, replaced the broken-down “second temple” the Israelites built after they returned from the exile.  Herod was a puppet king for the Romans.  He was a power- and fame-hungry politician who placated the seditious Jews by building them a brand-new temple.  Herod’s temple was one of the most impressive construction projects in the known world at the time.  And it was nothing if not a monument to Herod’s reign and achievement.  It was also a source of great pride for the Jews of Jesus’ day.

The temple was the center of religious life in Jerusalem; but it also became a hub of commercial activity.  Jews came from the known world to worship there.  Those coming from a distance purchased animals for sacrifice and religious artifacts and souvenirs.  A brisk business was also made by money changers.  The currency of the Roman Empire was considered unclean and therefore unfit to be offered in the temple.  Worshipers could exchange this for temple currency.  But there was a hitch: those who handled the Roman currency were also considered unclean.  The money-changing system in the temple by design forced some people to remain perpetually unclean for the sake of those who sought to enter the temple with pure hands. Those who benefitted from the money-changers' services maintained their own purity while reviling those who enabled them to stay clean.  

This is what Jesus barges into the day he cleanses the temple.  A place intended to be a monument to the glory of God. That has become instead a monument to human greed.  A place intended to be the gateway to God’s grace.  That has instead become an unjust barrier to those forever left on the margins.  Jesus’ rage is the rage of a protective parent; a jealous lover. 

In two of his letters the Apostle Paul declares:

“…your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit” (1 Corinthians 6:19-20);

And,

“…I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.” (Romans 12:1)

Jesus is Immanuel – “God with us”.  He replaces the temple building with the church – human beings in whom his own Spirit has take residence.  Countless God-meeting places spread around the world.   Temples of the Holy Spirit; living sacrifices; we become individual and collective monuments. 

As people claiming to be Christ's disciples and the new people of God, we have to ask ourselves: to whom/what are we monuments?  Our temptation, in a celebrity-making world, is to invest in our own reputations, careers, profiles and portfolios -- to be monuments to our own greatness and glory.  Jesus mourns over Jerusalem and the destruction that will befall its temple in AD 70.  That event stands as a stark declaration: any monument to anything other than God’s grace and glory will fall. 

Let your life be a monument.  Let it be not a fleeting monument to your greatness, but an eternal monument to God’s glory. 

Unjust Judges

Passage: Luke 18:1-14

At first glance Jesus’ parables of “The Persistent Widow” and “The Pharisee and the Tax Collector” seem very different.  In fact, they’re different angles on the same story.

In the first parable, a widow appeals to her local magistrate.  The law is on her side.  Some adversary has co-opted her land – land that has been in her family since God parceled out the Promised Land by family after the Exodus.  God’s Law has always maintained provisions for poor or marginalized members of his people to recover the land God himself gave as an inheritance.  However, in first century Palestine, judges have absolute power.  They determine how the law will be applied and whose case has the most merit.  As such, they are highly susceptible to bribery.  How easy for any judge to rule in favor of the highest bidder.  No one outside his chambers will be the wiser as no one but the plaintiff, defendant, and judge know the details of the case. 

In Jesus’ story, the judge – a human representative of God’s justice – respects neither people nor God.  The widow – a person without economic or social capital – appeals to this judge on the basis of justice, a principle for which he has no regard.  She doesn’t have the money or influence to appeal to his self-interest.  She is at the mercy of a human representative of a God-given mandate.  And the human representative is corrupt.  Jesus concludes the parable by saying that, although the human intermediary is corrupt, God’s principle, justice (that is, “making life right”) will prevail.  God always has his way.

The setting of the second parable is a temple rather than a courtroom.  However, there are two parties acting as prosecutor and defendant: a Pharisee and a tax collector.  The Pharisee stands self-righteous and self-justified before God.  Even though he addresses God, he has no real regard for God.  Luke goes so far as to say he prays to himself.  The Pharisee concludes by saying, “Thank you, God, that I’m not like that tax collector.”  He has set himself up as judge – co-opting God’s rightful role, and attempting to stand between his fellow human being and God’s justice.  The Pharisee has adopted the role of accuser (the official designation given to Satan, God’s adversary). 

The tax collector offers no argument in his own defense.  He appeals directly to God and says, simply, “Have mercy on me.”  Jesus concludes that of the two, this man – the sinner – leaves justified before God.  Again, there’s a human intermediary who has abused his role and acted as an unjust judge.  And again, it is God himself who bypasses the unjust judge in order to rule in favor of the helpless and vulnerable.

The lessons for us are twofold.  First, Jesus is the perfect representative who allows us to appeal directly to God.  In Jesus God accomplishes the cause of justice – that is, the righting of everything that’s gone wrong in our lives and in our world.  And God hears our case when we appeal not on the basis of our merit, but his mercy.  Second, Jesus warns all of his people against setting ourselves up as judges.  We all too eagerly co-opt the role of accuser – taking it upon ourselves to decide who can and cannot appeal to God’s grace.  Jesus appoints his disciples as gatekeepers (Matthew 16:19).  But he makes it clear that their/our role is to hold the gates open, in contrast to the Pharisees who kept them locked tight.  This is reinforced by Luke, who follows these two parables with the account of Jesus welcoming little children and rebuking his disciples for keeping them away.  Here Jesus says, both, “Come to me like little children (free of pretense and self-justification)” and, “Let the little children (and, presumably, those who approach with child-like faith) come to me.” 

Fight the urge to be an unjust judge.  And approach God without fear and without a defense.   Trust that he has put in place the perfect judge, Jesus Christ, who upholds the cause of justice and has already paid your penalty in full.  

Rich?

On successive Sunday's I'm preaching on Luke's account of the Rich Ruler and Jesus' meeting with Zacchaeus.  Each story presents a different facet of the role of material wealth in the Kingdom of God.  In last week's sermon on the Rich Ruler (audio available here), I cited a New York Times op. ed. by former hedge-fund trader named Sam Polk.  It's posted here, and is worth reading if you have the time.

Keller on Hell

A couple of weeks ago I gave a presentation called "Beyond Heaven and Hell: What Christians Really Believe about Eternal Life".  I'll reproduce the presentation in brief at a future date.  But if you attended the presentation, or have further questions about Jesus' promises and warnings regarding the eternal implications of our life now, take the time to listen to Tim Keller's sermon on the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31).

Catching Up

If you follow Food for the Journey, you've noticed a lull over the past couple of weeks.  My creative energies have been invested some other places this month.  If you're interested in what I've been preaching and teaching lately, you can tune into some of the sermons from my latest series here.  In addition, my next couple of posts will be reposts of material that I've drawn on for my own study.

My current series has been a study of the people who meet Jesus in the Gospel of Luke.  Several weeks ago I studied the account of Jesus' anointing at Bethany.  The sermon's here.  Ann Voskamp elaborates on the question at the heart of that story, and the heart of every person's response to Jesus: Is Jesus useful; or beautiful?  Please take the time to read her post.  

Faith

Passage: Luke 7:1-10

Ryan Bell has embarked on a radical experiment.  He’s decided to spend the year as an atheist.  Bell is a former pastor, seminary employee, and religion columnist for such news outlets as The Huffington Post.  In a recent blog post he writes,

“Since [I resigned my pastorate] I have been a religious nomad. I have struggled to relate to the church and, if I'm honest, God. I haven't attended church consistently; I struggle to relate to church people, preferring the company of skeptics and non-church-goers. I haven't prayed much and, without sermons to write on a regular basis, I haven't studied, or even really read, the Bible.

So, I'm making it official and embarking on a new journey. I will ‘try on’ atheism for a year.”

Bell’s post has sparked a flurry of online debate about whether or not you can “try on” either belief in God or an absence thereof.  A CNN post provides a sampling that includes the positive:

“Bell should be applauded for his attempt to ask the hard questions. Whether he'll be a theist or atheist on the other side of this journey, I don't know. But it is a good thing that he is wondering.”

And the skeptical:

“It’s not a set of superficial practices, it’s a mindset. What’s he going to do at the end of the year, erase his brain?"

At the heart of the debate is the question of what constitutes genuine faith in God.

This is precisely the question addressed in the three episodes recorded in Luke 7.

The first is the account of Jesus’ encounter with a Roman centurion.  In it the centurion sends a delegation of Jewish elders to appeal to Jesus for healing on behalf of the centurion’s servant.  Through his emissaries the centurion says both, “I am not worthy to have you come to me in person” and “If you only say the word, my servant will be healed.”  In response, we’re told, Jesus is “amazed at the centurion’s faith” (and obliges by healing the servant from a distance). 

In the second episode Jesus encounters the funeral procession of a widow’s only son.  He tells the mourners not to cry; then commands the dead man to rise.  He complies, returning to life.  Everyone who has seen it responds by declaring, “God has come to help his people.”

In the third episode Jesus has been invited to dinner by a Pharisee named Simon.  A woman known to have lived a sinful life crashes the party.  She proceeds to fall at Jesus’ feet weeping; she pours perfume on his feet; and then she wipes the mixture of tears and expensive fragrance from his feet with her hair.  Simon, a man of religious and social principle, disdains the woman, and disdains Jesus because he allows the shameful display.  Jesus confronts Simon.  He says, “You have failed to live up to your own standard for hospitality by refusing me the common courtesy of a handshake and a towel for my feet.  And you have betrayed your religious standards by putting yourself in a position to judge.”  He then turns to the woman and says, “Go. Your faith has saved you.” 

Faith, in each of these instances, is not an intellectual or religious exercise.  It’s a response.  These people meet Jesus, and see him for who he is.  He’s not a quick fix.  He’s not a spiritual guru.  He’s the embodiment of the power, and love, of the one true God.  

They respond with humility because, as CS Lewis says,

“In God you come up against something which is in every respect immeasurably superior to yourself. Unless you know God as that—and, therefore, know yourself as nothing in comparison— you do not know God at all.”

They respond with joy because in Jesus God is doing something new.  Jesus breaks the barriers of race, gender, and even religious observance that have kept people outside the circle of God’s grace.  And Jesus breaks the power of sin, disease, and even death.  Faith is seeing God at work, and recognizing that what you see is God at work.  You either see him or you don’t.  When people encounter Jesus in the Gospels, many are unable, or unwilling, to see.  But those who see him for who he is are changed forever as they are compelled both by his power and his by love.  True Faith isn't a religious addendum to your life.  It's a relationship at the center of your life.  It's like true love.  Either you have it or you don't.  If you can turn it on and off, it isn't the real thing.  

Come As You Are, Leave As You Aren't: Meeting Jesus in the Gospel of Luke

As a congregation, we spent last fall studying the Book of Acts.  We’ll spend the first part of 2014 studying a work by the same author, the Gospel of Luke.  Commentator Leon Morris notes that when you take both books into account, Luke is responsible for more of the New Testament than any other single author.  That said, we know little about Luke himself.  He was not one of Jesus’ disciples, and is unique from them in a few ways.  The most notable are that Luke is a Gentile, and that Luke exhibits extensive formal education.  Luke first encounters Jesus in the Spirit-filled ministry and teaching of the apostles.  Like many Gentile converts, Luke was undoubtedly drawn to the early church’s warm hospitality and rich community life, as well as the remarkable impact and miraculous power of the apostles' ministry.  Like many, Luke witnessed the crowds of people converting to faith in Jesus, as well as the amazing life transformation that accompanied the new faith, and wondered how it was that simple Galilean fisherman could generate such a movement.  When Luke reports in Acts 4,

When [the Sanhedrin] saw the courage of Peter and John and realized that they were unschooled, ordinary men, they were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus. (Acts 4:13), he is no doubt recounting the astonishment he too experienced when he first encountered the apostles.  Yet herein lay the explanation: these men had been with Jesus.  It was not their innate character or ability but rather the transformative power of Jesus Christ and his Holy Spirit that inspired their teaching and empowered their ministry.  Luke can only conclude one thing: that Jesus is precisely who and what the apostles claim him to be: God in the flesh, and the Savior of the world.

This is why Luke writes his gospels.  To convince an unbelieving world that Jesus is real.  To introduce skeptics not to a new religion but to a life-changing relationship.  And to invite those who have always stood outside the circle of God’s grace to enter in through the new way of Jesus Christ.

In his commentary, Morris contrasts Luke with the other “synoptic” gospels of Matthew and Mark.  He concludes,

“The great thought Luke is expressing is surely that God is working out his purpose.  This purpose is seen clearly in the life and work of Jesus, but it did not finish with the earthly ministry of Jesus.  It carried right on into the life and witness of the church.

“Luke sees this divine purpose as intimately bound up with the love and mercy of God.  A feature of this Gospel is the way God’s love is portrayed as active in a variety of ways and among a variety of people.  This is not an occasional theme, but one which runs through the whole writing.” (Leon Morris, Luke, Tyndale New Testament Commentaries, Eerdmans, 2002. pp. 15-16)

The Gospel of Luke is a Gospel of love.  It is punctuated throughout with the stories of encounters with Jesus.  And the people whom Luke brings into contact with Jesus are outsiders – sinners; ethnic and economic outcasts; Gentiles like Luke himself – all of whom Jesus engages in conversation and invites into a new world.  Each one of these meetings results in transformation.  The person comes to Jesus as one thing and leaves as another.  Luke is the only one of the four Gospel writers to consistently call Jesus “Savior”.  Luke does so from personal experience because it was through Jesus that he was welcomed, once and for all, into the family of God.  But what Luke demonstrates again and again is that the effectiveness of Jesus’ salvation lies not only in accepting people as they are, but in leaving them as they are not.  Jesus changes people. 

Jesus still changes people.  The only way for the salvation of Jesus Christ to take effect in your life is to allow Jesus into your life.  Not as a spectator or one-time commentator.  Not as a renter or interloper.  But as the permanent inhabitant and owner.  Jesus challenges and conquers.  Jesus also heals and restores.  We can’t have one without the other.  So if you dare, read Luke’s Gospel.  Do so understanding that the Jesus Luke introduces is not a character in a story but a real and living person who invites you into a new world and a new kind of life.  Come as you are; leave as you aren’t.