Mastered by Jesus

“A Christian is not a person who believes in his head the teachings of the Bible. Satan believes in his head the teachings of the Bible!”

“A Christian is a person who has died with Christ, whose stiff neck has been broken, whose brazen forehead has been shattered, whose stony heart has been crushed, whose pride has been slain, and whose life is now mastered by Jesus Christ.”

–John Piper

No longer do I call you servants, for a servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all things that I heard from My Father I have made known to you.”

John 15:15

It seems that the purpose of life is not to find our freedom. It’s really meant to find our Master.

Yes, the idea of being a slave to anyone is repugnant. We chafe at this, and yet man was never meant to be seperated from the Lordship of Jesus. We’re instructed repeatedly with the New Testament idea that “our life is not our own”  Over and over God proclaims Himself as the King.

That troubles us somewhat.

Not so much when life is fairly good, granted, but in those hard moments when a decision must be made between enjoying the titillating “lusts of the flesh,” or accepting the fruits of the Spirit. This is one of those “lordship moments.” They come, and go, and they show us exactly who we are.

If you’re really going to be authentic–a legitimate and real disciple, then you must determine who is going to be “boss.” This isn’t one of those casual decisions. You must securely fix it in your heart.

Your decision must become a settled issue.

The thief on the cross knew salvation, he was promised an eternity with God simply by faith. But I submit to you that he had put himself under the Lordship of Jesus, simply by recognizing the sign, “the King of the Jews.” I believe he saw and understood its imlications. Jesus was King!

This is a very hard word for some, but many of our personal issues hinge on this.

I know this first-hand. It can be a monumental struggle. You must admit to not only having Jesus as your Savior, but you also must put your life under His total Lordship.  You need to pick up your cross daily in order to follow.  You need to learn how to kneel.

I’ve chosen a crown to open up this post–it’s done on purpose.  I simply want you to to understand the supreme call He has on your life. Here’s Bob Dylan, and he nails this idea down:

But you’re gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You’re gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody

You must learn here and now how to kneel before the Sovereign King

 

Related: “Am I Like Peter”; “The Scum of the Earth;” “Those Strange Christians.”

A Question: Am I Like Peter?

To follow Him can be really hard. There doesn’t seem to be any contingency plans for any who are looking to escape such a drastic call. Jesus either is, or He isn’t our Lord. “Do you also want to leave?” This is a question that will be asked to every disciple–sometimes once, and sometimes repeatedly.

There are these crystalline moments when I must make a decision. Will I take up my cross and go with Him? There doesn’t seem to be any room in Jesus’ band for ‘almost’ disciples. That scares me sometimes.

Today’s cross is waiting for me. I’m afraid at times that I won’t be able to take the next step as a true follower. Am I just fooling myself?

All of heaven seems to stand on tiptoe to see what I’m going to do next.

Who am I really?

Being obedient to Jesus is far from easy. We must have His Spirit.

“After this, many of his disciples left. They no longer wanted to be associated with him. Then Jesus gave the Twelve their chance:

“Do you also want to leave?”

“Peter replied, “Master, to whom would we go? You have the words of real life, eternal life. We’ve already committed ourselves, confident that you are the Holy One of God.”

John 6:66-69, The Message

Image from Wikipedia, verses are from The Message Bible by Eugene Peterson.

Meet the Widow, at the Funeral of Her Son

Luke 7:11-17

Not long afterwards Jesus went with his disciples to the village of Nain, with the usual great crowd at his heels. 12 A funeral procession was coming out as he approached the village gate. The boy who had died was the only son of his widowed mother, and many mourners from the village were with her.

13 When the Lord saw her, his heart overflowed with sympathy. “Don’t cry!” he said. 14 Then he walked over to the coffin and touched it, and the bearers stopped. “Laddie,” he said, “come back to life again.”

15 Then the boy sat up and began to talk to those around him! And Jesus gave him back to his mother.

16 A great fear swept the crowd, and they exclaimed with praises to God, “A mighty prophet has risen among us,” and, “We have seen the hand of God at work today.”

17 The report of what he did that day raced from end to end of Judea and even out across the borders.

My world crashed down around me. First, my husband, and then my only son are dead. I’m left absolutely alone, I have lost everything that really matters. I am penniless, without hope. Why has God treated me this way?

Am I being judged for my sins? Only God knows.

I live in Nain, which is a few miles south of Nazareth. It’s a village where everyone knows each other and it’s hard to be private. Everyone knew my situation. But that doesn’t make it any easier. Grief had become my constant companion, I knew it well. Psalm 88:18 became my deepest cry, I finally understood it.

The funeral procession began at my house and led to the cemetery. It was the same route we walked with my husband, and now today with the body of my only son. A large crowd escorted the coffin, but that brought me nothing but more pain.

They were a small comfort, but they changed nothing.

We arrived at the village gate at the same time as Jesus of Nazareth. He was accompanied by a large boisterous crown. There were suddenly hundreds of people converging at one spot. The crowds mixed with the mourners like two ocean currents that come together, hot and cold.

Jesus approached me.

He was deeply moved and there was incredible compassion on His face. “Please don’t cry,” He told me. Then he walked over to the coffin and the bearers stopped. Everyone in the crowd stopped and riveted their gaze on Jesus.

Jesus reached out and touched my son’s coffin.

“Boy, I tell you to wake up!” Suddenly, my son sat up and began to speak. My heart jumped in my throat as the bearers lowered the bier. “My son is alive!” I screamed, “Alive!”

Jesus led my son to me. I held him close and stroked his hair I couldn’t let him go. Suddenly everything changed. I knew God saw me and loved me. I have never been happier. I could never have dreamed something like this could happen to someone like me.

The crowd stood dumbstruck in the presence of Jesus. After a minute they began to murmur, “He is a prophet!” Others said, “God has visited His people.” People were hugging each other with complete abandon. All I could do is hold my precious son.

Tears, tears of joy rolled down my cheeks.

The news of my son’s resurrection spread throughout the entire region, and the popularity of Jesus skyrocketed. God was making Himself known through Jesus Christ; but more importantly, we knew He loved us The peace and hope were like medicine to a beaten-down people.

Lord of mercy, raise up all that is fallen inside of me. I can be so dead sometimes and your presence is what I need. Impart newness of life to my heart. Come and be with me. Amen.

Art by Pam Lucey. Scripture from the Living Bible, Tyndale House

Meet the Samaritan Leper

Luke 17:11-19

11-13 It happened that as he made his way toward Jerusalem, he crossed over the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten men, all lepers, met him. They kept their distance but raised their voices, calling out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

14-16 Taking a good look at them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.”

They went, and while still on their way, became clean. One of them, when he realized that he was healed, turned around and came back, shouting his gratitude, glorifying God. He kneeled at Jesus’ feet, so grateful. He couldn’t thank him enough—and he was a Samaritan.

17-19 Jesus said, “Were not ten healed? Where are the nine? Can none be found to come back and give glory to God except this outsider?” Then he said to him, “Get up. On your way. Your faith has healed and saved you.”

It’s said by many that “misery loves company.” So here we were, ten men banded together, each as lost and far gone as the other. Once our lives were whole and normal–wives and children, homes and jobs, but those wonderful things had been ripped away when we were told we had leprosy.

And basically, I was an outcast among outcasts. I was the sole Samaritan among Jews; not that it mattered anymore–those kinds of distinctions were no longer an issue between us. What we all were facing was a “slow-motion” death. There was absolutely nothing anyone could do, being a leper meant we were beyond any hope.

Do you have any idea what leprosy is?

It was the ultimate impurity–we were the bottom part of the “bottom of the barrel.” Every morning we sat down and unrolled our dirty bandages. We counted fingers and toes–and we examined each other’s faces noses, and ears. Leprosy numbs, the nerves become insensitive. Essentially we were rotting away before each other’s eyes.

We scavenged for food mostly, sometimes our families would set out baskets of bread and fish, maybe some wine we hoped. And sometimes they wrote us notes which could be both good and bad–they just reminded us that all we knew was gone. We would share these with each other, somehow we wanted and needed that bittersweet solace.

I believed that God, in His infinite wisdom, had cursed me.

We were the damned. Walking and talking zombies who were just waiting to die.

We talked among ourselves–the healings that Jesus was doing were fascinating to us. The blind received sight, demons were evicted, the crippled and lame now walked tall and whole. We joked about our little group meeting Jesus for ourselves, but we were imagining the impossible. When you’ve lost enough hope, black humor settles in to stay.

We somehow heard that Jesus was going to travel near us, so we walked to a hill by the road where we might see him come by. It seemed foolish, but it was better than just sitting. It would be good to see what the fuss was all about. We saw a group that was coming down the road–it was Jesus and his followers, so we waited.

“Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

Suddenly that became our desperate cry. Each of us stood and screamed out to Him in our lostness–that got His attention. He turned to look at us, and then declared these powerfully gentle and healing words, ““Go, show yourselves to the priests.” That was it, six words, no theatrics.

But as I said before, I was a spiritual outcast, a Samaritan, and going to the priests wasn’t possible. So instead I went directly to Jesus. You should have seen me, I was kneeling and shouting praises to God! Dear one, joy was an understatement–I was astonished at new hands and toes, ears and skin. Where there was once rotten flesh there was now fresh skin–baby soft and brand new.

I was now whole!

Where the nine others went, I don’t know. All I truly knew was that my leprosy was instantly gone.

Lord Jesus, you rule over all sickness and disease. I was like this leper, I had no hope, but you found me and set me free. You forgave my sin. Thank you for finding and healing me. Help me to follow you. Amen.

Image: CNN, Scripture “The Message, by Eugene Peterson.

The Scum of the Earth

“But when some of the Jewish religious leaders saw him eating with these men of ill repute, they said to his disciples, “How can he stand it, to eat with such scum?’”

Mark 2:16

“When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; 13 when slandered, we entreat. We have become, and are still, like the scum of the world, the refuse of all things.”I do not write these things to make you ashamed, but to admonish you as my beloved children.”

I Corinthians 4:12-13

My teaching ministry is “Scum of the Earth, Homer Alaska.”

Here is the teaching I gave on “How Scum Hear His Voice” given at a home fellowship group given on February 9, 2022, Homer, Alaska.

The teaching can be found here.

It was a bitterly cold night, with lots of wind, but the fellowship was very good. and the wood stove was a blessing. After this teaching, we had a good time praying and took communion.

I really hope this teaching blesses you.

Meet the Master of Ceremonies in Cana

John 2:9-10

When the master of ceremonies tasted the water that was now wine, not knowing where it had come from (though, of course, the servants did), he called the bridegroom over.

10 “This is wonderful stuff!” he said. “You’re different from most. Usually, a host uses the best wine first, and afterwards, when everyone is full and doesn’t care, then he brings out the less expensive brands. But you have kept the best for the last!”

Full account: John 2:1-10

I really don’t believe in miracles. But something happened when I was overseeing a wedding in Cana that I can’t explain. I’ve thought a lot about it and as I uncovered some of the details–well, part of me believes, and part of me can’t.

My duty was to oversee the details that are part of every wedding. That includes having a sufficient source of wine for the party. If I made a mistake or miscalculated the thirst of the guests, it’s the absolute worst thing I could do. Not too much wine (as it could be expensive) or not too little either. If I blew it, it would go down as a shameful thing.

Essentially I freed up the bride and the groom so they could enjoy their day–I handled all of the logistical stuff. It was my ministry you could say, I had a knack for managing these events, it was how I made my living. (It’s all about having a good reputation, and I suppose the shekels were also a part of my thinking too.)

This particular wedding in Cana sort of got out-of-hand.

Too many guests too soon, and man were they thirsty. I brought in the wine, and it wasn’t enough–I was blowing it, and honestly, I really didn’t know how I was going to extricate myself and avoid this incredible goof. Word was spreading fast; we were running out. (People were starting to panic!)

My employees, my servants, gathered around to help me think. They basically gave me the news, and they expected me to do what was out of my power to do. I rarely had encountered a predicament like this. Poor planning on my part and now the groom would take the rap.

I was surprised when the servant came with a cup for me to sample!

Tasting that wine I realized then and there that this was not the usual plonk–as a matter of fact, it was the best that could be found (and I know all about wine, believe me). When I found the groom and told him…”Most serve the best at first, but you rascal, you saved the very best for last!”

I was dumbfounded when I investigated its source. It was water, coming from six purification jars (each one could hold up to 30 gallons). Each one was filled to the brim, and each one became excellent wine. Some have told me that Jesus didn’t add anything–but He transformed it. Now dear reader, perhaps I understood the incredible power of Jesus.

I’m not really a believer quite yet, but maybe?

I suppose that this miracle describes having a life that’s being transformed. As we grow we start to realize that He’s taking us higher up and deeper in. Look for your next step, there’s always much more in “becoming.”

And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

2 Corinthians 3:18, NIV

Art by Paolo Caliari, (1528-88). Scripture is from the Living Bible, by Tyndale House.

Meet the Man at the Pool

John 5:1-9

1-6 Soon another Feast came around and Jesus was back in Jerusalem. Near the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem there was a pool, in Hebrew called Bethesda, with five alcoves. Hundreds of sick people—blind, crippled, paralyzed—were in these alcoves. One man had been an invalid there for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him stretched out by the pool and knew how long he had been there, he said, “Do you want to get well?”

The sick man said, “Sir, when the water is stirred, I don’t have anybody to put me in the pool. By the time I get there, somebody else is already in.”

8-9 Jesus said, “Get up, take your bedroll, start walking.” The man was healed on the spot. He picked up his bedroll and walked off.

9-10 That day happened to be the Sabbath. The Jews stopped the healed man and said, “It’s the Sabbath. You can’t carry your bedroll around. It’s against the rules.”

There were hundreds of us, surviving in our own personal man-made hell. We were the blind and the lame; simply dropped off by our families here to exist, to somehow make it on our own. We were a desperate lot, but there was a strange camaraderie, we all understood that our condition was hopeless. We were just marking time–and my 38 years was a lifetime for some. It’s a very long time to be sick.

None of us were whole, not by a long shot, otherwise, why were we sitting here waiting to die?

It’s said by some that an angel would venture down from heaven, and stir the pool–and the first to get in the water would be healed. It was one of those strange things that kept us from going crazy–a mental mechanism that bruised hearts often carry deep inside. It was a necessary way to keep from being lost.

I lived with my friends on these hard stone steps all these years, I’ve seen some live, and many more die. Banding together we became a community of survivors. We understood each other, and we knew everyone’s story–what else was there to do but talk?

It’s funny how some ideas get started–a silly dream, or a fairy tale of leaving this pool and becoming normal again. We developed the knack of a gallows kind of humor, a bond that condemned men shared with each other. We bantered these in order to cope with this slow-motion death. These were inside jokes, mixed with hefty dollops of half-believed hope and odd humor that only dying men learn to appeciate.

But maybe it kept us alive for just one more day. Perhaps it helped us to survive this hell.

That day started like 13,879 days before, and there was nothing unusual about it. There was nothing but the growing heat, the flies, and the sour smell of unwashed bodies. But in an instant, my life was going to be decisively interrupted. And at the time I never saw it coming.

Jesus threaded His way through the sitting bodies to find me.

When our eyes met he stopped. All He did was to ask me simply— “Do you want to be made well?” That question cut through the many years of accrued pain. I mumbled something about the angel, and the pool, and not having anyone to help me into the water. His question pretty much unraveled me. It seemed like it was just Him and me, staring at each other.

He told me to stand, to pick up my mat, and walk.

All of those half-baked days of a wasted life crashed in on me then. I saw all the emptiness and sadness of 38 long years. But in an instant, He healed me. I stood and picked up my mat, I shook my head and cried. Through my tears, I saw my friends looking at me in shocked and total amazement.

I simply walked out of there, carrying the only thing I owned.

“Then the lame will leap like a deer,
and the tongue of the mute will sing for joy,
for water will gush in the wilderness,
and streams in the desert.”

Isaiah 35:6, CSB

Art: Free Bible Images, text used is from The Message, a translation by Eugene Peterson

Meet the Man Born Blind

John 9:1-7

As he was walking along, he saw a man blind from birth.

“Master,” his disciples asked him, “why was this man born blind? Was it a result of his own sins or those of his parents?”

“Neither,” Jesus answered. “But to demonstrate the power of God. All of us must quickly carry out the tasks assigned us by the one who sent me, for there is little time left before the night falls and all work comes to an end. But while I am still here in the world, I give it my light.”

Then he spat on the ground and made mud from the spittle and smoothed the mud over the blind man’s eyes, and told him, “Go and wash in the Pool of Siloam” (the word Siloam means “Sent”). So the man went where he was sent and washed and came back seeing!

Up to now I’ve tried to approach these posts from the first person viewpoint. I hoped to understand those who met face-to-face with Jesus. I wanted to grasp what they were seeing through their own eyes. But I intend with this post to revert back to a more traditional approach to this passage.

First, we’re introduced to a man who is blind from birth.

I can’t even imagine what that would be like (just as he probably could imagine having sight). I’ve been told that he probably didn’t have a “dream” life–that requires having seen images (a dog, a tree, a mean person) and this wasn’t available to him. He never saw the color red, or seen a mountain. (He didn’t have the circuitry.)

I suppose we can only imagine what blindness like this would be.

Somehow I’ve come to an idea that this represents fallen men–we’re spiritually blind to the workings and truths of Jesus’ Kingdom. It seems a pretty good explanation of each of us–“blind from birth.”

Secondly, notice the response of the disciples who first met this unfortunate man. They don’t see his needs, rather they want to know the theology behind this. Perhaps that’s how we respond much of the time–we don’t see the needs, we only want to know the reasons. We’re not wise or discerning enough to see what’s going on–in short we’re not equipped to love or show mercy. (We haven’t got the circuitry.)

Perhaps this is how we operate as immature Christians.

We don’t engage the need, but rather we like having great theology over understanding compassion. If we really don’t love needy people, we miss so much. We don’t ever grow up. It’s easy to philosophize–it’s hard to get down and serve and really love others.

It’s funny but Jesus declares Himself to be the light of the world while speaking to the man who is born blind.

Third, we discover the gentle mercy that Jesus has when He meets needy people. Now the Lord does accommodate His followers, but not at the expense of engaging the need of the moment. Jesus is full of compassion–most especially when He meets broken people–and as His followers, we must grasp this.

Good theology is not the primary calling of Jesus’ followers.

As I mature in Christ I’m learning (slowly) that people are His real focus. He has come, not to theologize or philosophize, but to meet needs! Sure the reasons why become clearer, but that really isn’t Jesus’ primary goal. People are, not having impeccable theology.

Classes in systematic theology are good, but soup kitchens are better.

The miracle happens, and Jesus’ love and desire to restore this man is ‘front and center.’ The Lord’s methodology is interesting. Spit and mud, wiped on the blind man’s eyes. In Genesis we discover that God made man out of dirt and dust of the ground. Perhaps what He’s doing here mirrors that work.

And it’s also important to understand that Jesus never performs the exact same healing in the exact same way. For some reason He ‘tailors’ His work to the individuals deepest need. I suppose He doesn’t want us to grab a hold of a formula, as that’s what we want to have.

The story is primarily about a blind man’s healing.

It’s not theology, and it certainly isn’t about what is proper and acceptable. We really must understand this, and we really need to understand the tremendous mercy and power of God to both heal and restore.

There’s a ton more here we can extract, but I suppose there isn’t time. This is merely my take on John 9.

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me; he has appointed me to preach Good News to the poor; he has sent me to heal the brokenhearted and to announce that captives shall be released and the blind shall see, that the downtrodden shall be freed from their oppressors, and that God is ready to give blessings to all who come to him.”

Luke 4:18

Image: MCCC. Text from the “Living Bible,” published by Tyndale House