Monthly Archives: February 2010

Immediately, immediately, immediately

One of the most distinctive features of Mark’s writing style is that he seems addicted to the word immediately. The word shows up 42 times in his gospel, 12 times in the first chapter alone. (After that, Mark settles down a little.) In most versions of the English Bible, not every occurrence of the word is translated from the original language. Trust me, though—it’s used a lot.

This has led many people to declare that Mark’s gospel is a gospel of action and that he uses immediately to communicate “a sense of speed and urgency” (ESV Study Bible footnote, Mark 1:10–11). Odds are, though, that immediately is, like, just a filler word for Mark, like, you know, like is for us. And that Mark’s got a writing style similar to this imaginary author.

(That is a very funny blog, by the way.)

Three little-known facts about Proverbs 31 and the dreaded Proverbs 31 Woman

Ah yes, the Proverbs 31 Woman…trotted out every Mother’s Day, making wives and mothers feel guilty because they’re not matching up to this legendary superwoman. Of course, she shares a chapter with a piece of counsel for kings, but nobody loses sleep over verses 1–9; the woman in verses 10–31 gets all the glory.

Here are three fast facts about Proverbs 31 that might transform your view of this passage.

1. Proverbs 31 was not written primarily for women. It was written for young men (verse 1).

The words of King Lemuel. An oracle that his mother taught him.

2. The main point of Proverbs 31:10–31 is found in verse 30. It is intended for unmarried young men.

Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

3. The only commandment given in Proverbs 31:10–31 is found in the final verse. It is not directed toward the woman.

Give her the fruit of her hands,
and let her works praise her in the gates.

That is all.

Jesus loves the wrong people (Mark 2:13–17)

One of the great joys of the Internet is the ability to access endless reams of useless information, such as an incredible list of Yogi Berra quotes. Of course, some of them are real, and some are fake, so you can’t believe everything you read. As Yogi himself put it, “I didn’t say everything I said.”

If you’re still reading this and haven’t yet fluttered off to Google in search of more Yogiisms, I really appreciate it.

One of the classic Yogi quotes is this gem: “It’s déjà vu all over again.” Well, we all know that vague, unsettling feeling that somehow we’ve been here or done this before. That sense of déjà vu is what we should be getting when we read Mark 2:13–17. Here, we find Jesus passing alongside the Sea of Galilee. He sees a man hard at work and tells him, “Follow me.” The man drops what he’s doing and immediately follows Jesus.

Sound familiar? That’s how Jesus called his first disciples, Simon, Andrew, James, and John. When he did it the first time, nobody really minded. Sure, it was a little odd for a rabbi to seek out his followers and not vice versa. And it was a little odd for a rabbi to choose grown men already devoted to a particular line of work. However, nobody seemed too offended by it. Maybe the people of Capernaum were proud that this sensational teacher had hand-picked some of their own to be his followers.

As proud as they were then, they sure must be upset now. This time, Jesus has chosen a man named Levi—a tax collector. Now, in American culture, nobody is really a fan of tax collectors. In fact, a man made headlines recently for crashing a small airplane into an IRS office building in Austin, Texas. Most people, however, won’t get too mad at someone for being an IRS agent.

The difference between American tax collectors in the present day and Jewish tax collectors in the first century was the degree of corruption. Most IRS employees are just doing their job. However, tax collectors in Jesus’ time were well-known for overcharging, for skimming off the top, for essentially running a crime syndicate. Worse yet, they worked for the hated Roman oppressors; most Jews viewed them not only as thieves but as traitors. They were treated as outcasts from Jewish society; anyone who associated with them was considered to be defiled. So naturally, the only companions of a tax collector were prostitutes and other “sinners” who were fellow outcasts. Jesus’ countrymen probably would have loathed tax collectors and their ilk to the same degree that we loathe inner-city gang members.

So, of course, Jesus picks one of these scoundrels to follow him. Then he throws a party and invites all of Levi’s disgusting friends.

The religious teachers, who serve as the conscience of the community, are not happy. They already got ticked off the other day because Jesus claimed to have authority to forgive sins, which is something only God can do. Now, this man—who had seemed so much like the Messiah!—is not behaving like even a respectable Jew ought to behave. Something must be done about this rogue teacher. They corner a few of his disciples and question them, “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” You can almost hear the contempt dripping from their mouths. And who can blame them? These sinners are absolutely rotten; they’ve gotten rich by cheating and stealing money from poor villagers, making a lot of people in Capernaum utterly miserable. These are sick people whom Jesus is treating like friends.

Jesus hears that the religious leaders are upset at him. Their attitude bothers him so much that he steps outside the house to confront them. He doesn’t apologize for what he’s doing; and he certainly doesn’t try to convince them that deep down inside, these tax collectors and sinners are basically good people. They aren’t. And that’s the point. “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick,” Jesus explains. “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”

Jesus has come for one group of people: sinners. Broken people. Scum of the earth. If you’re not in that category, then Jesus isn’t really interested in you. If you do fit that description, then Jesus wants you to drop your old way of life, trust him, and follow him. He isn’t ashamed to be seen with you. Your sin is not holding him back from asking you to be with him; it’s the very reason why he’s calling you. Jesus is in the business of rescuing sinners. If you’re a sinner, this is really, really good news.

If you’re not a sinner, then this is really, really offensive news. It means that Jesus doesn’t want to be around you. It means that Jesus isn’t interested in calling you to follow him. It means that Jesus is going to pass you by and call people that disgust you. He will love them, he will throw a party for them, and you’ll be left outside—cynical, bitter, and fuming.

Do you want to know Jesus and understand his love? Open your eyes and see the truth: you are a sinner. You are dirty, rotten, revolting, and sick. Then you’ll see that Jesus has come for you.

When forgiveness gets offensive (Mark 2:1–12)

Jesus doesn’t mind offending people. Each one of the gospel writers includes a first incident where he begins to tick off some of the people who have liked him up to that point. In every case, it comes fairly early in his ministry. In Luke, this happens when he preaches at his hometown of Nazareth, explaining that the Gentiles will accept him before his fellow villagers will (4:16–30). In John, people get angry at Jesus when he brandishes a whip in the temple courtyard and drives out a group of merchants and money-changers (2:13–22). However, in Matthew and Mark, the pivotal incident takes place inside a little house in the Galilean village of Capernaum.

Up till now, Jesus has been doing all the right things. He’s been teaching with a unique authority; he’s cast out demons; he’s healed people who are sick. These are great credentials for a Messiah figure. Now, however, Jesus is going to make the religious leaders of the day really uncomfortable really fast. He’s going to begin claiming authority for himself that doesn’t fit into their ideas of what the Messiah ought to be like.

» Read Mark 2:1–12

The day begins innocently enough, with Jesus returning to Capernaum and stays at a nice, spacious house. Someone rats him out, and before long the crowd descends on him, filling up the house to the point where no one can get in anymore. Then, four men arrive, carrying their paralyzed friend on a cot; they believe Jesus can heal their friend. Since they can’t get in through the door, they take the stairs up top and proceed to “de-roof” the roof. No doubt this created quite the scene inside the house; amid all the dust and chaos and falling chunks of roof, a paralyzed man descends on a cot, lowered by ropes.

Jesus is impressed. These men (and presumably their paralyzed friend) have a lot of faith that Jesus can help them. They trust Jesus so much that they are willing to try something totally crazy in order to get to him. Jesus really likes people with creative, daring, and disruptive faith. So he announces to the man, “My son, your sins are forgiven.”

In the words of Keanu Reeves:  Whoa.

I’m sure that’s pretty much the last thing that anyone standing there expected to hear. It’s not obvious why Jesus says this; did the man’s sins contribute to his paralysis? In any case, the first priority to Jesus is that this man be made right with God. What really ticks off the religious teachers standing nearby is that Jesus thinks he has the authority to pronounce God’s forgiveness. “He is blaspheming!” they think. “Who can forgive sins but God alone?” And they’re right about that second part. In every sin, God is ultimately the offended party; every sin is an act of insurrection against him. He is the King, so he makes the laws; when we break those laws, we reject him as King. And here we have Jesus thinking that he gets to forgive those sins. No mere man can do that—not even a man as great as the Messiah!

I love Jesus’ response. He doesn’t back down. Instead, he turns on his X-ray vision and reads their minds. Yeah, he can do that. Then, he poses a bit of a riddle for them. “Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise, take up your bed and walk’?” What a clever set-up! On the one hand, it’s easier to say, “Your sins are forgiven,” because it’s not something that can be tested; if you say, “Rise, take up your bed and walk,” people are going to figure out pretty fast whether you have that sort of authority or not. On the other hand, fixing a paralyzed man’s legs is small beans compared to forgiving his immense, grave sins against a colossal, holy God.

So Jesus plays the trump card and does both! He heals the paralyzed man, telling the religious teachers that he’s doing it “that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” This is the first time in Mark that Jesus identifies himself as the Son of Man—a veiled reference to the messianic figure of Daniel 7:13–14. The Son of Man has been granted authority by God to set up an eternal, universal, indestructible kingdom. And now, Jesus just proved that you can’t underestimate the authority of the Son of Man. He can do things that only God can do. So it’s only natural that the people in the crowd “were all amazed and glorified God, saying, ‘We never saw anything like this!’” No, I’ll bet you haven’t. It’s not every day that the King of all the universe shows up in your town.

We don’t know yet how the religious teachers are going to respond to this smack down. But one thing is clear—Jesus isn’t afraid to claim immense authority for himself. He isn’t afraid to wield that authority by forgiving people who trust him. He isn’t afraid to humble anyone who challenges him. He isn’t afraid to flex his muscles. And this won’t be the last time he does.

Self-promotion

As I’m looking for a position on a pastoral staff in a church somewhere in North America, I thought I’d put together a website to help potential churches get to know me better. The idea is that this site will help complement my résumé by including photos and links to some of the teaching and writing I’ve done. Check it out!

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