students of jesus

Once, somewhere in the Northern Highlands, among the hills of rock, two masons set out to build their homes. In the thin light of a new Spring morning, they each gathered stones together for their task.

The first mason selected stones suited for the work. He carted them to his site and quickly joined them together into a house both sturdy and safe. Because he finished his work quickly he built another house. And another. And still another until the landscape was filled with houses of stone, all sturdy and safe, but each one cold and empty.

The second mason made a curious choice of building materials, for among the Highlands was a quivering mountain of living stones. These stones were no bigger than those used by the first mason. They were no stronger or better shaped, nor any more lovely than the others. But they were alive: they spoke, they sang, they even argued, and somehow they could move of their own accord, even after being selected by the second mason.

As the mason piled the living stones into his wagon they asked where he was taking them. When they saw the plans for his house some cheered and sang while others complained and wandered away. They wanted no part of his house. Still the mason joined the stones together, building the walls and arches and hearth of a home fit for his purpose.

But because he had chosen living stones, the house was never completed. Some stones jumped from the cart before they arrived at the building. The work was forever unfinished as the mason returned to the mountain quarry again and again for more supply. Other stones allowed the mason to place them in the wall but failed to connect with the wall-mates on their left and right: they argued, they cried, and when they had could stand it no more, they left.

Still he continued to build. Always the house was incomplete. Some mornings the Mason would return to work only to discover that the stones had re-arranged themselves in the night. The Mason made curious choice to leave holes in the walls where the stones had fled, because (he said) “I selected that stone and crafted a place for it alone. Another cannot take it’s place.”

From time to time a missing stone would wander back to the house and the Mason lovingly fitted it back in the wall again. Some stones stayed in place forevermore, but some left (and returned) time and again. Still he continued to build. Room upon room he added, not one of them finished until there grew an unwieldy mansion both large and incomplete. In this mansion he chose to live, year after year in fellowship with the living stones that breathed in every wall.

Passers-by would stop and stare in amazement. Many laughed at the sprawling mess of a mansion that had grown on the landscape. It seemed without design and devoid of all reason.

“Why don’t you use the stones all the other masons use?” they laughed. “You could finish your house in days and be done with the work.”

“This building is my work,” he replied. “And as for the living stones it is true--they are a bother: but I could never build with dead ones, for this is my home, and I’ve come that they might have life.”

Sometimes the big questions intersect with our everyday life. My opinions regarding large “theological” questions trickle all the way down to my ability to follow Jesus day-by-day. For example, my view of the scripture will determine how much authority it has in my life. My understanding of God’s purpose for marriage will find it’s way into my choices about sex. Or, for example, my view of the church will influence my everyday life as a follower of Jesus.

Here’s the challenge: not everyone thinks the answers to big questions matter in their ability to follow Jesus. We think they are simply matters of opinion, or even preference. What if big questions help--or hinder--our lives as students of Jesus?

One current question in North America has to do with the importance of the church. Church life in America has become a symbol of irrelevance, hypocrisy, or even considered harmful in the life of a disciple. Why not simply head out to Starbucks or a pub with my believing friends and call that “church?” Who needs the hassle of small-minded people or the drama of church as a someone’s private kingdom? I see the point of these questions. The church in the U.S. is desperately ill. So why not turn off the life support system?

My only problem is God. He seems to think the church is important. Here’s a meditation: try reading Paul’s letter to the Ephesians without considering the place of the church in God’s order of things. The church is mentioned nine times in three separate contexts during this short letter. The Spirit-inspired text says some outrageous things about the church:

• The church is the “fulness of God” (1: 22-23). Really?
• God wants to speak to the cosmos, using the church as the example of his “manifold wisdom” (3: 10-11). No way!
• God actually thinks marriage is an everyday picture of Jesus and the Church (5: 22-33)

Before we all spend our tithe on lattes and pints with our best friends and call it “church” perhaps we could consider the big question of what God has in mind for the church and for us as followers of Jesus. It’s a big question that matters everyday.

The other day I was having coffee with Dallas WIllard -- no, wait -- that wasn't me, it was someone else. But I certainly wish it was me.

Dr. Willard is a gift to the church. For decades his work has centered on the deep joy of becoming an apprentice to the Master of Life, Jesus. Today's parable-post is drawn from his excellent article, "How to Become a Disciple," which originally appeared in The Christian Century, but was adapted from his book, The Divine Conspiracy, Rediscovering Our Hidden Life in God:

Jesus gave us two parables to illustrate the condition of soul that leads to becoming a disciple. Actually it turns out to be a condition that we all very well understand from our own experiences. The parables also illustrate what he meant by saying that the "scribe" of the kingdom teaches from the ordinary things of life "things both old and new."

First, he said, "The kingdom of the heavens is like where something of extreme value is concealed in a field. Someone discovers it, and quickly covers it up again. Overflowing with joyous excitement he pulls together everything he has, sells it all and buys the field" (Matt. 13:44).

Second, he said, "What the kingdom of the heavens is like is illustrated by a businessman who is on the lookout for beautiful pearls. He finds an incredible value in one pearl. So he sells everything else he owns and buys it" (13:45-46).

These little stories perfectly express the condition of soul in one who chooses life in the kingdom with Jesus. The sense of the goodness to be achieved by that choice, of the opportunity that may be missed, the love for the value discovered, the excitement and joy over it all, is exactly the same as it was for those who were drawn to Jesus in those long-ago days when he first walked among us. It is also the condition of soul from which discipleship can be effectively chosen today.

Only with such images before us can we correctly assess the famous "cost of discipleship" of which so much is made. Do you think the businessman who found the pearl was sweating over its cost? An obviously ridiculous question! What about the one who found the treasure in the field -- perhaps crude oil or gold? No. Of course not. The only thing these people were sweating about was whether they would "get the deal." Now that is the soul of the disciple.

No one goes sadly, reluctantly into discipleship with Jesus. As he said, "No one who looks back after putting his hand to the plough is suited to the kingdom of God" (Luke 9:62). No one goes in bemoaning the cost. They understand the opportunity. And one of the things that has most obstructed the path of discipleship in our Christian culture today is this idea that it will be a terribly difficult thing that will certainly ruin your life.

This article appeared in The Christian Century, April 22-29, 1998, pp. 430-439. Copyright by The Christian Century Foundation, used by permission.

Can you imagine explaining the universe by telling a story? For example, someone asks a scientist, "What is gravity, and why is it important" And she answers by saying, "There once was a man who owned a vineyard . . ."

Here's a ten-minute video that provides an overview of how and why Jesus taught using parables--and not just parables: parables of the Kingdom of God.