students of jesus

Winston Churchill said it first: “Never let a good crisis go to waste.” If you’re trying to manipulate others into action, panic is wonderful ally. Fear has issued a standing invitation. The voices of this age demand attention, and if we do not attend, they raise their volume to a glass-breaking pitch.

We live in the age of crisis. Climate change. Government shutdown. Financial collapse. Jennifer Lawrence’s short haircut. Anyone who isn’t panicking obviously doesn’t understand the situation.

There is, however, a voice from another age: the age to come. The voice of peace. The voice of God.

There’s a woman tossed down into the dirt of the street. Around her angry voices cry, “Stone her!” They turn their attention to Jesus, who stoops to street level and presses his finger into the dirt. The voices cry again, with accusation and urgency, but Jesus speaks so quietly everyone has to shut up in order to hear his words.

Professional mourners wail outside the house because a young girl is dead. They excel in giving voice to grief and loss, but it’s all in a day’s work. Jesus asks, “Why all this commotion?” Instead of death, he sees a sleeping child, which elicits laughter and scorn, the cousins of crisis. In the end, the Lord’s quiet voice reaches the only ears that matter: “Talitha, koum.”

Even his closest friends know the songs of panic. When the boat is nearly swamped by wind and waves, they come to the sleeping Jesus in the back, resting on a cushion. “Rabbi! Don’t you care if we drown?” And this is the issue: when we enter into crisis, fear, and panic we are sure God doesn’t care. He doesn’t even answer. He’s asleep. What can you do when God is asleep?

But what if Jesus, asleep on a cushion, is the word of God to us? What if God is dreaming of better things for us? His inaction is a parable: “Don’t be afraid, where is your trust?”

The voice of crisis cries out for action. It shouts: do something, take up arms, mount your horse and ride! But the man on the cushion is the word of God to us:
    “In repentance and rest is your strength,

         In quietness and trust is your strength,” 

The only question is whether we will receive the Eternal Sabbath, or have none of it, and take up our horses to flee.

Panic tells the lie: God doesn’t care. Jesus tells the truth, even in his sleep.

I can keep a secret, but the people I tell--they can’t keep a secret! So, if I tell you a secret this Monday, it’s OK if you spill the beans.

• Contentment does not depend on circumstances: Paul could be content in the midst of plenty or little. In our world plenty is not enough: each of us know first-hand people who cannot be at rest even when they are surrounded by every comfort. Worse: some of us are those people.
• Contentment does not mean giving up: Paul still had places to go and things to do. He was not a fatalist who accepted every event in his life as the final word. Yet even when he faced obstacles and frustration he found contentment within.
• Contentment is not the result of positive thinking: There’s an old story about the child given a pile of horse manure for his birthday: he joyfully grabbed a shovel and said “there’s got to be a pony in there somewhere!” Not so. Sometimes there is no pony: life simply covers us with dung. The danger of positive thinking is that it comes from our own strength, and eventually that resource runs dry.

God has a greater vision for what is possible in our lives than we have for ourselves. Many of us would be thrilled to simply attain the promise Jesus offered: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11: 28 – 30)

It’s true: there is a practical harmony capable of generating the rest and peace he promises. I suspect that for most of us this would be enough, but what if this wonderful invitation represented the starting point of our life in Christ? What if Jesus has something more in mind for us?

Beyond rest and peace are the staggering possibilities of living a life imitating Jesus in word, thought, attitude and deed. I believe Jesus invites us to learn from him because he intends to reproduce himself in us. He does not invite us to learn about him; he presents to each of us the incredible offer to become conformed to his image.

In Jesus, God came to earth to accomplish something greater than the forgiveness of sin. Jesus also came to earth in order demonstrate the possibilities of a life lived in harmony with the Father. Jesus was fully God and fully man; to understand his humanity is to encounter the hope that Christlikeness is possible in this life. In his earthly ministry Jesus used everyday situations to shape his disciples: paying taxes, feeding the hungry, fishing, encountering a fever at home, settling disputes between people filled with pride and competition. Jesus knew that commonplace situations contained eternal possibilities: a drink of water could change a town, coins could become cities, palm leaves could threaten an empire. Moreover, Jesus expected to leave behind a group of followers who were capable of continuing his work in every respect. His solutions transformed the most unlikely cast of characters into world-changers who operated with his priorities, lived out his example, and operated with the same authority and power as their Master.

Perhaps--for some--this vision is too large. We asked for forgiveness. Life-change is more than we have a right to expect. Except it is the Lord's own vision for us. He invites us to become just like him.

We must choose whether becoming like Jesus is possible in this life, or even desirable. If we decide that becoming like Jesus is not possible, could it be that we are avoiding facing the more difficult question of whether it is desirable?

The nice thing about a closing prayer at church is it gives you time to gather up all your stuff and get a head start on the mad rush to the restaurant. The truly adventurous church-goer might even take advantage of all those closed-eyed people and bolt for the door when no one’s looking. Pity the poor benediction. It’s no more than a holy starters gun: ready set, amen, go!

But what if the benediction is filled with revelation and life? What if the Holy Spirit has inspired life-changing words available to anyone with ears to hear?

We have at least one example of a life-giving benediction buried near the back of the book. Jude, the half-brother of Jesus, speaks words of life over his original hearers, and these words are life-giving still today:
Now unto him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen. (vs 24-25)
Before we turn the page and rush into the Apocalypse, perhaps we can discover some of the revelation in this short good-bye prayer.

He is able to keep us from falling ~ This is an amazing comfort! Jude reminds us that part of God's greatness is not only that he can remove our guilt, he is also able to keep us from falling. Do we dare believe it? To walk with him means becoming the kind of person able to walk uprightly before him.

Presented before God--without fault! ~ As we are learning to walk free from stumbling, God is actively taking care of those moments when we do stumble. How to you react to this statement: “The day is coming when you must stand before God.” It should be a source of joy because we can have the confidence that he himself will present us faultless. So what’s to worry about? He teaches us how to walk and repairs our missteps--the best of both worlds.

With great joy ~ Today, like every day for a student of Jesus, we are reminded that the end of our journey is joy, even great joy, or as one translation says, exceeding joy. If this is my destination, why shouldn't I grow more joyful with each step?

The author of these three assurances is God, our Savior, who has the glory, majesty, power, and authority to bring it all to pass. He has proven it in Jesus Christ, and Jude reminds us this is so--but only if we stay for the benediction--the good speaking. Who will speak good over you today? Your brother, Jude--who was also the Lord’s brother. Peace!

Surely Jesus believed that prostitutes were sinners, yet he welcomed them to his table. He ate and drink with them.

Surely Jesus understood that tax collectors betrayed their countrymen by helping the brutal Roman occupiers in his homeland, yet he welcomed tax collectors to his table as well.

Surely Jesus knew that religious hypocrites misrepresented Yahweh’s heart toward his people and laid heavy burdens on God’s people, yet he dined with them and invited them to participate in his Father’s kingdom.

Surely Jesus saw first-hand Peter’s temper, James and John’s foolish nationalism, even Judas’ tortured and divided motivations, yet he broke bread with each one of them, sharing his very blood and body.

Jesus welcomed everyone to his table. He welcomed the clueless and the cruel. He engaged the outcast and the insider. He shared his life with his enemies because he came to turn enemies into family. His method was startling: he ate and drink with them. Wherever Jesus ate, it was his table. He turned water into wine and transformed ritual into everlasting love. He turned no one away from his table.

He gave no one a pass on their rebellion or self destructive ways. The sinless perfect representative of God’s heart never lowered his standards or winked at injustice. Still, around his table everyone was welcome. He was no lightweight: if a moment called for brutal honestly, he fulfilled that need as well. He did not negotiate, he fellowshipped.

He set an example for us to follow. On his way to the cross he stopped to eat and drink each day, and each day he welcomed his enemies to his table. At the cross, he did what only he could do. At the table, he demonstrated what we can do.

He refused to let disagreement separate him from others. Jesus possessed the proper opinions, the right positions, and perfect perspective, but never--not once--did he use his correct standing as a reason to alienate other people.

Who is welcome at your table?