It's a Work in Progress

Passage: Matthew 13:24-52

In this chapter Matthew throws out seven different metaphors that Jesus uses to talk about the Kingdom of Heaven. In short order, Jesus says the Kingdom is like:
• A good field suffused with weeds
• A mustard seed
• Yeast mixed into dough
• Treasure buried in a field
• A rare pearl
• A net full of fish
• A mixture of old treasures and new
Elsewhere Jesus says, “The Kingdom of heaven is near!” and, “The Day of the Lord has come!” Jesus’ words have produced great confusion about the arrival of God’s Kingdom. Is it coming? Or is it already here?

When we utter the Lord’s Prayer, we make the request, “Your Kingdom come…” This implies that the Kingdom hasn’t yet arrived. And yet Jesus’ parables suggest that the stuff of the Kingdom is already in effect. The seeds have been planted. The crop is poking its way through the ground. The yeast is working its way through the dough. The treasure is there to be found, if you just know where to look. The net is closing in around the fish.
When we look at the world, all we see is a vacant lot. A garden choked with bindweed. A table full of junk at a flea market. We can’t imagine that the fallow ground will bear fruit. That order will be restored to that neglected garden. That somewhere in that pile junk is something of immeasurable worth.

Yet this is the stuff Jesus invites us to look for. It’s already there. The Kingdom is germinating; look for the signs. The Kingdom is waiting; search for it. Jesus’ teaching about the Kingdom flies in the face of logic or intuition, which tell us, “Things are getting worse; this city is beyond repair; this world is too messed up for anyone to fix it; it’s hopeless.”

It’s not hopeless. We are citizens of a Kingdom that is under construction. We are investing in a work in progress. Jesus commands us not to write it off. Not to write off a world in which God is at work. Not to write off a person in whose heart God has planted the seeds of redemption. Jesus tells us: The Kingdom is there. And there. And there! Look for it. Dig for it. Sacrifice for it. Wait for it.

The Request Behind Every Other Request

Passage: Psalm 145

In its clause-by-clause breakdown of the Lord’s Prayer, the Heidelberg Catechism regards the phrase “Hallowed be your name” not as a statement but as a request. “What,” ask the authors of the Catechism, “does this first request mean?” When we utter the prayer, therefore, we’re not making an objective observation about who God is. We’re asking God to do something very specific in our lives and in our world. We’re asking that, above all else, God’s name would be hallowed. Revered. Recognized as holy. Glorified.

This has radical implications for whatever else we add to our prayers. If our goal, in prayer and in life, is God’s glory, then we pray and live accordingly. Our requests, for ourselves and our world, align themselves with this predominant value. Where our first inclination might be to ask, “Heal my illness,” we might instead find ourselves praying, “In sickness or health, be glorified in me.” Where we might be tempted to pray, “Let my kid’s team win this playoff,” instead we may ask, “May my child’s conduct point others to you and your greatness.” If we recognize rightly that the purpose of our lives is to reveal to heaven and earth the greatness of our Creator and Lord, our values change. Our desires change. Our wills realign according to the very will of God.

Psalm 145 is a declaration of the glory of God. In it the Psalmist states, “Great is the LORD and most worthy of praise; his greatness no one can fathom.” He goes on to describe all the great things God is and does. God is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abundant in love. God is trustworthy in his promises, and faithful. God is near to those who call on him. God provides sustenance for life. God saves those who seek refuge in him. God gives his children the desires of their hearts.
The Psalmist adds this:
All your works praise you, LORD; your faithful people extol you. They tell of the glory of your kingdom and speak of your might, so that all people may know of your mighty acts and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.

If we truly know God, we can’t help but be enthralled by God. In turn we’ll talk about God in ways that compel others to seek him out. And we’ll live our lives in such a way that those who encounter us will catch glimpses not of our glory, but the glory of our Creator. As God’s faithful people, this is our greatest ambition. Every other hope and desire falls into place beneath it. That in our every act and experience God would make himself known. In our prayers, every other request is simply a variation on this one: Hallowed be your name. In my work, hallowed be your name. In my marriage, hallowed be your name. In my health, hallowed be your name. In my rest, hallowed be your name. In every facet of my day; my performance; my life; make yourself known to me and the world around me. Hallowed be your name.

Father

Passage: Lord's Day 46

The term “Father” has so many connotations. Fathers are providers and comforters. They are protectors and authorities. They are disciplinarians.
“Father” also comes with baggage. Human fathers that were abusive or absent leave cracks in the lenses of our souls through which it’s difficult to render a pure image of what a father should be.

With all this in mind, Jesus deliberately refers to God as “Father”, and invites his disciples to do the same. “When you appeal to God”, he says, “You’re appealing to my Father. But from now on you’re also appealing to yours.” Jesus ushers humanity into a new way of thinking about “father”, and a new way of relating to God.

In his invitation Jesus identifies God as being everything that an earthly father should be - and more. God is provider: he knows what you need and is willing and able to give it. God is comforter: he receives you in your brokenness and welcomes you with open arms. God is protector: he promises that not a hair can fall from your head without his permission. God is authority: he knows his design for Creation and his design for your life; he offers guidance that is trustworthy and true. God is disciplinarian: God interrupts us when we’re on a path that will end in long-term harm and withholds those gifts that threaten to supplant him in our hearts. God is always with us and always for us.

There’s an added dimension: God is our Father in Heaven. God inhabits the space beyond time and space. His perspective is comprehensive and eternal, and his reach is unbounded. There is no limit to the knowledge, wisdom, and resources at God’s disposal. When God promises to guide you in the way everlasting and provide everything you need for body and soul, God is able to follow through like no one else. Trust Jesus’ invitation. And trust the Father into whose family you’ve been irrevocably adopted. He will never let you down.

Why Bother?

Passage: Matthew 6:5-15

There are instances in which my Reformed Theology and Reformed practice seem to be at odds. Prayer presents many such instances. I believe that God’s plans for me and my world have been set in place since the beginning of time. I do not believe I have the power to change God’s plans or change God’s mind. And yet I persistently ask God to do stuff on my behalf – stuff I have no idea fits into his plan or not.
I’ve had conversations in which people have said, “I’ve been praying for days that my team wins the series.” I wonder if anyone on the opponents’ side is praying the same prayer. You could wonder the same about nations on one side or other of a war. I’ve heard Christians say, “God hasn’t healed you because you haven’t prayed hard enough.” Make a little more noise, and God’ll hear you.
I’ve also spoken with people who have said, “I can’t bother God with this - it's too small. I can't ask God for this - it’s too selfish.”
Are the above perspectives wrong? If so, how? And how do we know?

In order to know whether to pray, and how, it helps to understand the purpose of prayer. We tend to think that prayer is a way of getting things done. We pray to help God focus his efforts. We pray to do our part of God’s work. We pray to get what we want. When we think of prayer as a way of getting results – either for someone else or for ourselves – we get it wrong. We don’t change God’s mind when we pray. And we don’t curry extra favor from God the more regularly and passionately and eloquently we pray. When Jesus teaches about prayer, he actually says, “Less is more!” In his instruction Jesus also betrays what prayer’s really about. It’s not about results; it’s about relationship. Jesus says, “Call God ‘Father’.” He’s not your boss. He’s not the government. He’s not Santa Claus. God is one who has immeasurable compassion and regard for you. God is already listening.

And God wants what’s best – for you and your world. God knows his plans for you. Yet God welcomes a conversation. So Jesus invites us: “Whatever’s on your heart, bring it to God.” Talk to God when you need something. Talk to God when you don’t need anything. Don’t worry about the right words in the right order. There’s no magic way to get God to do what you want him to do. You don’t have that kind of power. But if you seek from God most important thing anyone can have – that is, an intimate relationship with God – he’ll grant it every time. It’s within the context of this relationship that you start to want what God wants – for you and your world. Why bother? Because God welcomes our company, and tells us that our prayers, big and small, are no bother at all.

Perfect

Passage: Psalm 19

The Catechism’s treatment of the Ten Commandments ends with a meditation on the relationship between Christians and God’s Law. The authors of the Catechism as the question that should be on all our lips:
No one in this life can obey the Ten Commandments perfectly: why then does God want them preached so pointedly?
Seriously. Why have we gone to such great lengths to study the Ten Commandments if we’re only going to fail at them anyway?
The Catechism gives two answers; I’d add a third. First, we turn and return to the Ten Commandments because they remind us of our deep need for Jesus Christ. We need to be reminded of God’s standard and our utter inability to meet it. So doing we acknowledge that we are the recipients of God’s love only by God’s great mercy. Second, we pursue God’s Law because we sincerely desire to live according to God’s will. We believe that God’s Spirit is continually restoring God’s image in us. As we become more and more the people God created us to be, we will be naturally inclined to live according to God’s good order.

Finally, we embrace God’s Law because we love God. The closer we are to God the more we delight in who God is and what God wants. This desire for the things of God is beautifully expressed by David, the “man after God’s own heart”, in Psalm 19. David says this about God’s Law:
The law of the LORD is perfect,
refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.
The precepts of the LORD are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the LORD are radiant,
giving light to the eyes.
The fear of the LORD is pure,
enduring forever.
The decrees of the LORD are firm,
and all of them are righteous.

When you love someone, you long to know their heart. God shows us his heart for the world and its inhabitants in the rules he gives his people. The more you love God, the more his rules make sense, and the more perfectly you want to live them.

Spin Doctors

Passage: Psalm 15; Lord’s Day 43

Psalm 15 captures what it means to be righteous. The psalm is attributed to David, who stands out in the Old Testament as “a man after God’s own heart.” Of course if you’re familiar with David’s story, you know he doesn’t always live up to the standard of righteousness outlined in his psalm. There are accounts of David using deception and dishonesty to get what he wants; accounts of David abusing his power and taking advantage of those more vulnerable than himself. It may be hard to take Psalm 15 seriously, knowing the ways its author failed to live up to his own standard.

The truth is, none of God’s people is able to live up to God’s standard of righteousness. In Romans 3:23 the Apostle Paul says, “…all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” All of us who seek to live as followers of Jesus are to some extent hypocrites. Faced with this knowledge, we have two choices. We can acknowledge the gaps between the way we live and the way we know we should; or we can do our best to hide them. We can spin the truth to make ourselves seem, to ourselves and the world, more righteous than we are.

It’s remarkable that the predominant ethic of the righteous person described in Psalm 15 is honest speech. The righteous “speak the truth from their hearts; they cast no slurs; they refuse to slander.” What sets the righteous apart is integrity – that is, consistency between inner character and outward conduct. The actions and words of the righteous person do not serve the purpose of masking insecurity or compensating for inadequacy. They are expressions of the deep-rooted peace, generosity, and compassion that arise from a heart that is in tune with the heart of God. A person who has adopted the practice of honesty is far better positioned to become righteous than someone who hides his sins from himself and the world. And a person who is righteous – that is, connected to God and committed to God’s will – has no need for spin. That person has nothing to hide – from herself; from the world; from God.

It's Not Really Stealing...

Passage: Lord’s Day 42

In 2005 Melody and I bought our first home. It was a beautiful four-bedroom ranch with a walkout basement and a big back yard that faced a ravine. And we got a great deal on it. We got a great deal because the retired couple we were buying it from had already purchased a condo and could no longer afford double home payments. They’d lived in the house more than twenty years; had raised their kids, and a number of foster kids there. Poured sweat and tears and dollars into improving it. It was a great house. They took a big hit when they sold it to us. And I could see the evidence of that in their faces when we signed the paperwork. Stress; fatigue; maybe even a hint of resentment, that our realtors had negotiated a deal that cost them so much. I didn’t care – or didn’t let myself care. I was too excited about the house I’d just acquired.

In 2011 we sold the house. We’d moved out of the house in December, 2008. It was a bad season for selling a house. And it was a bad year for selling a house in Michigan. Actually, it was the first of three bad years for selling a house in Michigan. This spring, after two years of double payments, two different renters, two basement floods and an Amityville-style bee invasion, a buyer came along. The buyer’s realtor negotiated a great deal for his clients. Melody and I just wanted to be done with the house. We signed off on a deal that cost us. And I remembered the couple we bought the house from. I remembered not thinking much about their mixed feelings signing their property over to us. The way they’d signed their money into our pockets because they had to sell. It felt different being on the other side of the deal.

Lord’s Day 42 of the Heidelberg Catechism explains God’s prohibition against stealing. Most church people are innocent of out-and-out theft, and so assume the eighth commandment doesn’t apply to us. Lord’s Day 42 doesn’t let us off the hook. The authors of the Catechism identify not only the act of taking that which doesn’t belong to us, but any act driven by the desire to capitalize on someone else’s loss. Fraudulent merchandising; excessive interest; greed. They conclude with this question and answer:
Q. What does God require of you in this commandment?
A. That I do whatever I can for my neighbor's good, that I treat others as I would like them to treat me, and that I work faithfully so that I may share with those in need.

The instinct that leads us to prioritize our financial needs over someone else’s is mistrust. Mistrust in God’s persistent promise to provide. The Bible contains far more references to greed and the idolatry of money than any other sin. And here’s why: we’re all guilty of it. When it comes to money and property few of us can honestly say we want for our neighbors that which we want for ourselves. When you resent your neighbor's brand-new car or your sister’s brand-new house or your friend’s brand-new job. When you can’t believe the steal of a deal you got on that piece of property the seller “just had to unload.” When you refuse to give to someone in need because “times are tight.” Each of these is an instance in which we choose self over neighbor. Each is an example of greed. And each expresses a fundamental mistrust in God’s generosity. We insist that God take care of us; we love it when God is generous to us. And we mistakenly think God should be more generous to us than the guy next to us. Not only does God challenge each of us to recognize that we are neither more important or entitled than anyone else. God also insists that his children adopt the family ethic. If you've benefited from God's generosity, pass it on. If you withhold it, who are you to expect more?