Blog Archives
Jesus wants worthless people (Mark 7:24–30)
To be healed, first you must be sick. To be set free, first you must be a slave. To be rescued, first you must be in peril. To be saved, first you must be a sinner. To be resurrected, first you must be dead.
And to be a child of God, first you must be a dog.
For the second time in Mark’s account, Jesus travels outside of Jewish territory into a Gentile region. He’s apparently taking a sort of “vacation” with his disciples, trying to get away from the chaos and crowds so he can devote his time to his immediate followers. However, as a result of his spectacular ministry, his reputation precedes him. He can’t stay hidden even in the region of Tyre and Sidon, two cities to the north of Galilee. Before long, he is approached by a woman whose daughter is possessed by an unclean spirit. She falls down at his feet and begs him to cast the demon out of her daughter.
Now, this story comes right on the heels of Jesus’ confrontation with the Pharisees, a group of nationalistic Jewish religious leaders. They are very concerned about the national identity of Israel, and they devote themselves to staying ceremonially clean, even inventing their own laws to stay safe. If they were in Jesus’ shoes, they would shrink back from this helpless wretch: she is an unclean Gentile, a woman, and her daughter is possessed by an unclean spirit. She is not a part of God’s chosen people, the people of Israel. She has no claim to the kindness of God. That’s what a “good Jew” would have thought about this woman.
So Jesus responds to her request with a proverb. He says to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” Yes, he is referring to the Jews as God’s “children” and to the Gentiles as mere “dogs.” If your concept of Jesus is limited to Flannelgraph Jesus from Sunday School or Hippie Jesus from American culture, this statement seems appalling. But a Jew of the time wouldn’t have blinked an eye. That’s how they thought about their pagan Gentile neighbors. Jesus is asking the woman, “My priority is to minister to the people of Israel. You’re not a part of God’s chosen nation; why should I help you?” He’s challenging her the way a Pharisee would; he’s playing “devil’s advocate.”
It becomes clear right away that this woman understands the meaning of grace. The Pharisees thought of themselves as earning God’s favor through their merits, but she admits that she has no merits to speak of. “Yes, Lord,” she says, “yet even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
There are a lot of ways she could have responded. If it were me, I might complain that I am a valuable person created in the image of God. I might plead my self-worth. I probably wouldn’t say out loud that I deserve Jesus’ help because I’m a good guy, but I would probably think it. This Gentile woman, though, doesn’t miss a beat. She embraces her status as a “dog.” She doesn’t think there is anything special about her that should convince Jesus to help her. Instead, she finds an opening in Jesus’ proverb and seizes it. He had said, “Let the children be fed first.” She admits that the power of God is “to the Jew first” (Romans 1:16). But she believes that Jesus’ power is more than enough, that it can overflow to her as well. Jesus had fed 5,000 men with five loaves of bread, and there had been twelve baskets of leftovers; she is convinced that there will be leftovers for her as well.
In other words, this woman does not plead her own merit. She pleads the unlimited power of Jesus. She pleads his compassion that overflows from his love for Israel and splashes down on wretched Gentiles like herself. She has nothing to offer him, but she believes that he has the authority, power, and compassion to rescue her daughter.
Jesus is delighted with her answer. She has wrestled with him and prevailed. “For this statement you may go your way,” he tells her. “The demon has left your daughter.” Sure enough, when she gets home, her daughter is lying asleep in bed, and the demon is gone.
The contrast is sharp between this woman and the Jewish religious leaders. They are clean; she is unclean. They are “good people”; she is not. They are in a position of privilege; she has no rights to claim. She is a loser, and she knows it. That’s what makes her an insider and the religious leaders outsiders. She doesn’t plead her own goodness. She pleads only the goodness of Jesus.
If you and I want to see the power of Jesus at work, in us and around us, we must abandon our merits and our rights. We are morally bankrupt, powerless, helpless. We don’t deserve to be rescued by God. All we can plead is the compassion of Jesus and his superabundant power to save. So don’t try to be accepted by God on the basis of your performance. Come to him, filthy and broken, and plead Jesus Christ, because Jesus wants worthless people.
Nothing in my hand I bring
Simply to the cross I cling
Naked, come to thee for dress
Helpless, look to thee for grace
Foul, I to the fountain fly
Wash me, Savior, or I die!
—Augustus Toplady
Peace the Guardian (Part 1 of 3: Anxiety)
Man, it’s been cold! (Even my Canadian half agrees.) Yesterday afternoon, the windchill dipped to -32° F in Lafayette. At times like these, I’m super grateful for my winter coat. I feel like I just stepped into an Abrams tank when I wear it—it’s big, bulky, and warm like a toaster oven. I’m even able to wear a t-shirt underneath it and not be cold. Actually, as I’m writing this, I’m squashed into the backseat of a car behind my two brothers as we drive through the state of Pennsylvania on the way to spending Christmas at my parents’ house in New Jersey. You know it’s been cold out when you stop at a gas station along the Pennsylvania turnpike, the windchill is 4° F, and it feels positively tropical.
Even before this cold snap, icy weather has been on my mind. It all began about a month ago when we were studying the book of Philippians in our Greek class at seminary. As we were going through the fourth chapter, God reminded me again of how fresh and unique his Word is. In verses 6-7, Paul writes:
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
The Roman empire was a rougher place than you and I are used to here in the modern West. Robbers were a real danger for someone traveling between cities (2 Corinthians 11:26). Happily, the citizens of Philippi were safe from harm because their town was protected by a garrison of Roman soldiers. They understood the comfort and assurance of being under guard.
As I try to recast that imagery of peril and protection into contemporary terms, I keep coming back to the concept of a frozen wasteland. That’s what the Indiana countryside is at this time of year. You wouldn’t want to get caught outside overnight; rescuers would find you frozen to the ground the next morning! We’re very careful to stay indoors in this sort of weather.
What we’re not so careful about is avoiding another sort of wasteland. Paul identifies this wasteland when he tells us, “Do not be anxious about anything”—or even more accurately, “Stop being anxious about anything!” People struggled with anxiety two thousand years ago just as much as they do now. The Philippians had plenty of reasons to be anxious; they faced frightening opponents to their faith ( 1:28 ) and needed Paul’s reassurance that God would provide for their financial needs (4:19).
However, Paul extended his command beyond just these particular dangers. “Stop being anxious about anything,” he wrote them. Paul understood that anxiety does not come from our circumstances. We fool ourselves into thinking that. If only I could find a job, or if only I could find a spouse, or if only I could pass this test, then I would be worry-free. This verse exposes the lies which we tell ourselves; the fact is, anxiety emerges from our attitude, not our circumstances. This is why two people, facing very similar challenges, can respond in such different ways. One may fret about what the future holds, while the other may confidently rest in God’s sovereignty and goodness. The difference is not circumstances but attitude; a person who clings to an anxious attitude will always find something to be anxious about.
So what’s your attitude like? Do you insist on remaining out in the winter wasteland of anxiety? Do you insist on trying to bear all the burdens of an unknown future on your own shoulders? Remember that anxiety is not merely a bad habit but a sin. It means you don’t trust the Lord to take care of your needs (Matthew 6:25-34). Moreover, it’s a manifestation of pride. In 1 Peter 5:6-7, we are told that humbling ourselves means casting our anxieties on God because he cares for us. How long will you insist that you are perfectly fine out in the cold, hunkered down to hide from the biting wind? Do you find yourself trying to block out the pain and trouble with the narcotic of TV, video games, music, excessive Internet usage, endless socializing, or (my favorite escape) daydreaming? Do you borrow a page from Hindu religious practice and turn to yoga as a false cure? Do you throw yourself into exercise and sports as a way to release the tension? Do you indulge in “comfort food” to boost your spirits?
We’re so good (sorta) at coping with anxiety, worry, and stress, but God is so good at curing us of them. Don’t stay out in the cold. You’re miserable out there. Humble yourself and come on in where it’s warm. More on that tomorrow.
The Almighty Servant
Let me tell you a little bit about myself: I want you to think I’m a great guy. Of course, I’m not as simple as Jesus’ disciples, who repeatedly jostled for position as the greatest and argued with one another over it. No, I’m a much more sophisticated sinner. I want to subtly manipulate you into thinking I’m the greatest. You know what would be a good way to do that? It’s if I could get you to serve me and do the things I want. Then I’d feel pretty good about myself.
Jesus didn’t do that.
42 …You know that those who are considered rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. 43 But it shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, 44 and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. 45 For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.
—Mark 10:42-45
Now this is entirely other. I don’t get it! I don’t lead like this. I don’t think this way. Aren’t leaders supposed to be ordering others around and getting others to serve them? What is it that makes a slave so great, let alone a bleeding, miserable, naked man dying on a criminal’s cross?
It is stunning to think that the Almighty, Sovereign over heaven and earth, Creator and Sustainer of the universe, would think of Himself as a servant. Even when all is said and done, and the world has been re-created, sinless and pure…even then, in the final chapter of Revelation, Jesus Christ is called “the Lamb.” Not a conquering Lion (though He is that), but the Lamb who was slain, given as a ransom for many. For all eternity, we will sing the praises of Christ, but He will be glad to come to us as a servant, stooping down and washing our feet. He can’t bear to do otherwise; it is in His nature to give, to love, to wipe away tears. He gave all that He could give, bleeding out every last drop of love, dying on a filthy, wretched cross, that we should live in the pure and rich glory of the new heaven and the new earth.
Now that is the sort of thing that thrills my soul. It’s a little scary, too, because all of a sudden, God’s righteousness doesn’t look anything like me.
Signs of pride and humility
Pride is such an insidious sin that those who suffer from it usually don’t know it. And that sucks because everyone has some problem with pride, aligning himself with the devil in his sin. For me, every day feels like a heated battle against a soundless, invisible enemy.
Pride is one of the chief sins which God condemns in the book of Zephaniah. It’s mentioned explicitly a couple of times (2:10, 3:11), and it seems to be the common thread underlying the sins of Israel and her neighbors. So I thought I’d go through the book and pick out symptoms of pride — all the better to diagnose it. In addition, I’ll look at symptoms of humility as well. (It would probably be a good idea to ask why these reflect pride and humility, but I don’t want to spend all day writing this.)
Signs of pride:
- Dividing your loyalties between God and other things which act as idols (1:4-6).
- Failing to seek the Lord (1:6) through His Word, prayer, and the counsel of other believers.
- Trying to “fit in” with the unbelieving world (1:8).
- Complacency (1:12).
- Believing God will not act and trusting in our own plans (1:12, James 4:13-17).
- Trusting in our money (1:18).
- Taunting and boasting against other Christians (2:8, 10) — taking delight in their failures and criticizing them to make ourselves look better.
- Living securely with a false sense of superiority (2:15).
- Rebelling against authority (3:1).
- Oppressing others (3:1) by misusing our power or abilities to hurt or damage them.
- Refusing to accept correction (3:2).
- Failing to trust in the Lord (3:2).
- Failing to draw near to God (3:2) by holding Him at arms’ length.
- Being fickle and treacherous (3:4) by failing to live up to what we promise or going back on our word.
- Profaning what is holy (3:4) by treating the things of God casually — the way the world treats them.
- Being eager to do corrupt deeds (3:7) — to engage in sins of the flesh.
Signs of humility:
- Seeking the Lord (2:3) — turning to the Bible, calling on God in prayer, seeking the wisdom of other believers.
- Doing what is just and seeking righteousness (2:3).
- Naturally, seeking humility (2:3).
- Fearing the Lord and thus submitting to His discipline (3:7).
- Calling on the name of the Lord for help and refuge (3:9, 12).
- Serving the Lord in one accord with other believers (3:9).
- Bringing offerings of our resources and also ourselves to the Lord (3:10).
- Telling the truth at all times (3:13).
- Being unafraid of what other people will do to us because we trust that God will save us (3:13, 15-17).
- Loudly rejoicing in the Lord’s salvation (3:14-15).
- Doing good works with strength (3:16, Galatians 6:9).
A common theme I’m seeing is that pride is a result of failing to fear the Lord, while those who are humble fear the Lord and no one else.
