Earlier this week I was talking to an old friend. As long as I’ve known him, he’s been talking about ways to make the most out of all the information in the world. What it comes down to is community: I can’t read all the books and you can’t watch all the movies, but if we do a little of each, and then share the summaries or highlights, we’ve both benefited from double what we could have done ourselves. Another thing he brought up was the difference between knowledge and wisdom. Wisdom knows value. Wisdom can make choices.
You get on the internet and how do you decide whether to read the article about the presidential race or the news story about international affairs? You go to the library: upstairs or down? Fiction or nonfiction? M’s or Biographies? There’s so much you couldn’t hope ever to get to, yet gaining knowledge is good. What makes you read Jane Austen over Dickens? Why did you pick a mystery today, but a book about Iceland last week? Or we could look at your household. How do you decide between Monopoly with your kids, a movie with the family, or any of the hundred chores and projects you could do around the house?
The choice is wrought by wisdom: your wisdom or someone else’s. My same friend is an excellent story-teller. He has the wisdom to know what details are essential to letting you feel right there a part of the story. When I get on the internet most days, I’m not thinking of choices that are life-shattering. “What’s this about?” I ask and click. I found all of my favorite blogs by linking out of curiosity. Why did that article catch my eye? I believe this is providential grace. Do I always see purpose in my trips to the library, the museum, or the web? Are all of my conversations with friends evidently headed in a direction good for both of us? I believe that, though I can’t always point to it.
Fruit in our Christian life is a matter of wisdom. It isn’t dutifully devouring the books in the library shelf by shelf until we are filled with useless facts and exhausted by blurry lines on the pages. Christianity is walking in the Spirit’s wisdom. And the Spirit produces fruit in our lives.
Luke 10:27-42 contains two stories: the first is the Good Samaritan. The second is one we’ve been studying in Sunday school for several weeks, Mary and Martha. This week we’re got a glimpse of the context of Mary and Martha. We can tend to see Jesus’ reproof of Martha as a call to abandon work almost entirely. Churches today are so afraid of legalism that they can be afraid to tell people to work. Who was most spiritual in the Good Samaritan story? Who was most Christ-like? Who obeyed the greatest commandment? It’s significant that Martha’s story follows the account of the lawyer (asking the question, “Who is my neighbor?”) who wanted to “justify himself.” He wanted to earn credit from God. That’s not what ministry is about. Let’s look at a proper perspective on service.
Last week in Sunday school we talked about having “living room intimacy” with God. A few weeks ago one of our teachers shared a little of what her living room is like with friends. She’ll serve them, but wants them to help themselves to refills or anything they need. I love most to visit my friends and spend the day with them, changing diapers, folding laundry, etc. What I’m getting at is intimacy that goes beyond sitting at Jesus’ feet, beyond the time of prayer and meditation on His words. Intimacy with Jesus is an active intimacy, too. It doesn’t turn off when we get off our knees, or when the kids wake up, when we’re at work, driving, relaxing, or even when we’re on vacation.
We work as a result of being with Jesus. We can’t do everything, so we need wisdom to know which works to choose. Follow Jesus’ example (taken from Joanna Weaver’s Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World). He ministered in three ways:
– as He went on His way
– as He went out of His way
– in all kinds of ways
In Experiencing God, Henry Blackaby writes that we should look for God at work and join Him there. In John 5:19, Jesus describes His walk in the same way: So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise.”
We don’t get the impression from the gospels that Jesus published an itinerary. His disciples rarely even knew where they were going or when. Jesus was like a living pillar of cloud and fire that the Israelites followed. Jesus knew where He was going, and the gospels even report at times that He had to go somewhere (Jn 4:4).
Even in the story of Martha and Mary, when Jesus got to Bethany, He was on His way to Jerusalem. What does this joining God at work look like?
I’ve worked at the same office for seven years. Over that time I’ve met some favorite patients and some least favorite. Last week we saw one of my least favorite, a man who when he came last year was a test of my Christian love. I didn’t want to love him, to want him to be saved, to be nice to him or anywhere around him. I wanted him punished. But I struggled with that, and prayed that God would help my weak heart to love my neighbors no matter who they were.
This year when I saw his name on the books I started to pray, but my prayers were all different. I prayed for an opportunity to share the gospel, and for the approach to take with the gospel. Our patient needs Jesus, no question about it. And for all the times I’ve asked God to never let this man come back to our office, God has brought him back year after year. God doesn’t make me miserable for no reason, so I believe God is at work in that man’s life. I didn’t get to share the gospel. He came in and left without even stopping.
But he came back the next day, and my gifted-evangelist brother shared the gospel with him. How incredibly cool is that?
Remember the story of the Good Samaritan? He wasn’t out on a charity field trip. He didn’t build a shelter for beaten and unconscious penniless men to recover if they could make it. Luke 10:33 – “But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion.” The Samaritan was on his way, paying attention to the needs of others. He ministered on his way.
But the difference between the Samaritan and the other, “religious” men in the story, was that after he met the needy man on the road, the Samaritan didn’t just toss him a drink or some money; he went out of his way to help him, just like Jesus would.
Joanna Weaver points us to Matthew 14:1-22 for Jesus’ example. The first part of this chapter describes the death of Jesus’ cousin, John the Baptist. John was the first to proclaim Jesus as the ‘Lamb of God,’ and actually baptized Jesus. In response to news of his friend’s execution, Jesus goes apart by Himself. The crowds find Jesus, but He doesn’t immediately send them away. Instead, according to verse 14, Jesus “saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick.” Note the word “compassion.”
“He laid aside his hurt so he could pick up their pain. He laid aside his wishes so he could become their one Desire. He laid aside his agenda so he could meet all of their needs.” – Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World
There’s a lot of emphasis these days on our passion for ministry. What do you just love doing? God created you to be passionate about certain types of service, truths about Him, or people groups. As youth leaders at church we’ve been talking about that. And when you’re building a team with a mission, that’s good. You want those passionate about interaction to be doing the fellowship, the teachers to be teaching, the servants to be running the snack bar or sound booth, the loud and energetic ones to be leading games. God gave the body spiritual gifts, and He gave varieties to different people so that we could work together and be the best and strongest.
But we’re not talking just about targeted long-term missions.
Compassion is different from passion. Compassion is why Jesus went out of His way to meet the needs of the multitudes. Compassion is why Jesus went out of His way to make me His. And compassion is willing to serve wherever needed.
Jesus ministered in all kinds of ways.
What if Jesus had said, “Blind people aren’t my ministry; I heal the lame”? Or “You’re a Roman; I only help Jews”?
Jesus washed His disciples’ feet, healed lepers, taught Pharisees, fielded questions from lawyers and peasants. Jesus played with kids and cleansed the temple. Nothing and no one was off limits to Him.
Yeah, you say. That’s Jesus. Of course He could do everything.
Philippians 4:13 – “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”
God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, the same Spirit from whom we get the terms “spiritual gifts,” and “fruit of the Spirit.” So no excuses. If God is leading you to a ministry, whether for five minutes, five days, or for a lifetime, He’s going to supply the gifting. Remember the idea of spiritual gifts is that they are supernatural. If we could do it without God, they wouldn’t be spiritual gifts. Ministry is God’s power working through us. And that Power, that God, is exactly what the world needs.
Remember the story of Peter and John from Acts 3:6-9 where they heal the lame man? Peter offers the man first Jesus and second healing. We need to have that intimacy with God (from spending particular time with Him) that gives us insight into physical and spiritual needs of those around us. They need Him more than money, free food or good counseling. Even the people not like the Samaritan’s neighbor, not at death’s door, desperately need to believe that there is a God with Power that they can trust.
So we’re serving out of our intimacy with God, continuing the journey and joining Him in His work. We serve and bear fruit as we go, when we embrace God’s interruptions of our plans and go out of our way to help, and reach out in all kinds of ways. You see a person in need. What do you have to offer?
– Compassion that comes because God loves them. When we spend time with God, we get His heart. We start to love people because God loves them, and because we love what God loves. The word compassion is an overflow of feeling. If it doesn’t produce action, it isn’t compassion.
– Compassion that sees their need as more than outward. Going through our daily lives with God is a good way to keep in mind that there’s more to life than what we see or feel. People have needs that are physical, and God calls us to care for those in distress. But God left us on earth to spread the good news.
– Passion for God’s glory that can’t hold it in. Getting to know our God produces more and more enthusiasm for who He is. Then we can’t help sharing it. Everyone should know about God; He should get credit from everyone for the goodness that He is and does.
This whole lesson on fruit is based on the idea of abiding in Christ, summed up in John 15:5 – “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” When we have that intimacy with Jesus, we’re like a zucchini vine. Joanna Weaver writes, “Fruit happens. You get connected to the Vine and pretty soon you’ve got zucchini – tons and tons of zucchini. So much zucchini you just have to share!” If our fruit doesn’t point back to the vine, though, we’re just working. We’re Marthas, cumbered about with that load of rocks (acts of service or ministry) God didn’t give to us, trying to earn credit from God for all the good things we do. We’re trying to tackle the whole library. Christian work is from “walking in the Spirit” (that living room intimacy picking up and moving through the whole house), the Spirit who glorifies Himself, and who gives people what they need and not a cheap substitute. If all we have to offer the world is our love by ourselves, or our money, or our help – they’re not getting nearly what they need.
Jesus promises that men will recognize His followers by their love (John 13:35), and sure enough, Peter and John were identified as Jesus’ disciples because they boldly healed the lame man in Jesus’ name, and would not be deterred by the religious incumbents, though the apostles were untrained and uneducated. Jesus had made a noticeable impact on their lives (Acts 4:13).
We had elections in this country last week. Compare the US to China. In China the Christians are often officially persecuted for their faith. But most of them aren’t fighting to transform the government. They know their real mission – and only hope – is to transform lives. God changes lives when He is known in His people’s love. “Chinese Christians devoted themselves to worship and evangelism. They concentrated on changing lives, not changing laws.” – Philip Yancey
Does the world know WHOSE you are?
Read Full Post »
Lisa of Longbourn 
Hands on Head
Posted in church, correspondence, etymology, family, Jane Austen, life, movies, music, philosophy, poetry, politics, waiting, youth ministry, tagged 23, allegory, alphabet, Ancient Hebrew, Anthony Hopkins, Bible Study, blackberry tea, blog, British tea, brothers, business, chorale music, church plant, cinematography, Colorado Republican Caucus, comments, cry, crying, discipleship, eagles, Edenic, edenics, email, emma, emotion, English, Ephesians, etymology, expression, eyes, faith, grace, guidance, Gwyneth Paltrow, Harried Smith, Hebrew, Hebrew alphabet, hiking, honesty, hymns, internet, Lady of Longbourn, LadyofLongbourn, library, Mary of Bethany, metaphor, mint chai, mint chai tea latte, Mount Doom, movies, openness, outreach, overwhelmed, Penelope, poetry, prayer, Psalm 32, ramble, Robert Martin, sale, simon says, sit at Jesus' feet, small group, St. Olaf's Choir, Sunday School, Superbowl, tea, tears, theme, trust, twenty-three, vulnerability, waiting, Will, wisdom, www.ladyoflongbourn.com, YLCF, Young Ladies Christian Fellowship on February 10, 2008| Leave a Comment »
Simon says? Exercises? Arrests? Hide and go seek? Illegal hands to the face?
My hands have spent a lot of time on my head lately. Life is too big for me sometimes. Like this week. At my church I’ve been teaching a women’s Sunday morning Bible study on Ephesians. Have you ever looked at a hill from a distance and thought you could get to the top in an hour or two, only to discover when you get closer that the hill is a mountain with no scalable paths? And for a breathless, unmeasurable time, you think you’ll never make it; you wonder why you tried. At the last possible moment, wings come in, sweeping you up like the eagles to hobbits on Mount Doom. God’s grace comes beneath your weakness, and through no fault of your own, you’re at the top, taking down your hands from your face to enjoy the view.
I watched a movie the other night. It wasn’t a really good movie. The cinematography was unique, and the acting was superb. Anthony Hopkins, playing a familiarly dramatic role, was suppressing his emotions, and trying to hide them. He kept holding his face in front of his eyes as if shielding them from a light, when really he was shielding tears from sight. Even when there aren’t people to see me, I keep putting my hand over my eyes. Actually, at twenty-three, it’s hard to cry anymore, so the gesture is an act of the will to indicate emotion I can’t express any other way. But the emotions, even at my age, must be expressed.
A friend and I are starting a small group for high school girls, and quite frankly, I don’t know where to start in connecting with them. Emma describes Robert Martin to her friend Harriet (in the Gwyneth Paltrow adaptation) as a man as much above her notice as below it. Is evangelism and discipleship like that? Either people know they need discipleship and God’s grace because they’re that mature or because they’re that empty? And I’m looking at some of these girls seeing so much need, but they’re not quite broken enough yet to value it, and I don’t know how to start a conversation or to whet an appetite for a close relationship with God. I guess it’s all up to Him.
Psalm 32 contains God’s promise to guide me with His eyes. So maybe putting my palms over my eyes is a way of getting me to follow Him, recognizing my own lack of wisdom. Too bad God has to force me into faith.
Then recently every time I try to get on the internet (check my library due dates, blog, check messages, look up movie times) I have to refresh a hundred times, and it still doesn’t work. I’m so inefficient, and end up doing a fraction of the things I’d intended with a day. That’s a cause of frustrated grasping of my head.
Maybe excitement could explain the frequent movement, too. This week quite unexpectedly I made my first sale on my business website: www.LadyofLongbourn.com Another exciting find was a website about Hebrew alphabets and words that argues for a Hebrew – or Edenic (long story) – etymology for most words worldwide. True or not my mind has been spinning with possibilities, and I’m finding it incredibly easy to learn new Hebrew words. But then I always have.
On Monday I got a bargain at the thrift store, and spent less than $3 on a brand new CD of classic hymns sung by the amazing St. Olaf’s Choir. St. Olaf is a Lutheran Bible College whose incredible music department was featured on TV this Christmas season. My brother and I stayed up irrationally (but not atypically) late watching it one night. The beauty – the gift of it so touched me that I put my hands to my head.
Dad and I went to the Colorado Republican caucus on Tuesday, which was an experience in disorganization and disbelief you wouldn’t, uh, believe! Do you know the actual rules stated that ties in our precinct should be decided by a coin toss? No one had any idea what they were doing, and since I couldn’t help us out, I put my hands on my head.
Sunday I sat on the floor in my sanctuary, which was an exciting change. You’ve no idea how many times I wanted to sit on the floor instead of formal, uncomfortable, modern chairs. Mary of Bethany sat at Jesus’ feet, and that is quite my preference. I probably won’t do it all the time; I fought against feeling self-conscious. But it was neat to experience freedom in that way.
The Superbowl… Ok, to stop all scorn in its tracks, I babysat for a neighborhood outreach party put on by a church plant in Denver, and then hung out with everyone for the last quarter, so it isn’t like I was idolizing football or anything. The Superbowl was a nail-biter, quite exciting. I couldn’t believe some of the plays I witnessed. Nice escape, interesting throw, and impossible catch for essential first down. Yep. I even know what I’m talking about. Hands over my eyes.
Monday was a rambling day, much like this post. How beautiful to spend unhurried time at the library, wandering around, thinking, scurrying back and forth from the movie shelves to the computers (which work!) there, as an idea of another movie to watch came to mind… And then on Wednesday I got to go to tea with a new friend. Tea, yes. I had mint chai, which is just as good as the other varieties I’ve had. With enough sugar almost any tea tastes good, I think. I just needed to get tea done the British way, with milk, too.
I’ve been doing much praying for a special person, name to be announced sometime after I learn it myself. My expectations for him are so high that it’s only right I support him now, already, in prayer. But then I miss him. And I cover my face shutting out the vastness of the world that separates him from me – but, of course, all in God’s capable and good hands. Um. That was code. It all means that I wonder where my husband is, and when he’ll come, and want him to be here sooner than later, but I have no idea who or where He is. But God knows, and I trust God.
This week I spoke with a few friends about honesty, and how we wish the world would let us say the truth, say what’s on our hearts without code or offense. At least with them I’ll practice it. I hope they will with me. No mask here. Which reminds me – I’ve watched several movies with masks or masquerades in them recently. Lots of movies.
But movies always make me think. A movie I want to see as of today is Penelope, due to limited release on February 29. The fantasy, fairy-tale-ish story has a message of honesty, of taking the hands from the face and being yourself for all the world to see and know – even risking the hurt.
YLCF was a special blessing this evening, since the most recent post specifically addressed the topic of waiting for one’s handsome prince, and what to do while you wait. I know those things. I certainly rebel on occasion. The reminder was important to get me refocused, to seek the most excellent and most fulfilling.
I’m craving tea: my mom’s blackberry, which I never like. The clock, at almost midnight after a long day, declines my craving. In fact I even have to stop my ramble through writing. This post is the way I used to write emails to my friends: late at night, a summary of a dozen thoughts and events that come together to form a sort of three-strand theme. If my brother were writing, this would be a strongly metaphorical poem (trying to make sense of which would bring my hands once again to my head). My other brother would tell a wonderful allegory. I’m trying to get the latter to guest blog here sometime. He has a great story about orange juice…
Ramble away in the comments. Feel free to put the unconcise, irrelevant, unfinished thoughts you can’t submit as an English paper, or publish on your blog, or tell your friends when they ask how you are doing. Good night.
To God be all glory,
Lisa of Longbourn
Read Full Post »