Wilderness Wanderings

As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem. (Luke 9:51)

The season of Lent begins already next week with Ash Wednesday. And so starting next week our devotions are also going to jump over to Luke's account of Holy Week, starting with Jesus' entrance into Jerusalem in chapter 19.

But Jesus starts out for Jerusalem much earlier in Luke's gospel, already way back here in chapter 9. It's a simple little throwaway sentence that starts it off. "As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem." A simple statement on the face of it, but it marks a hard pivot in the Gospel of Luke that shapes the character of everything and everyone that follows.

In the chapters we've just come from, we discover how Jesus is the Son of God in ever increasing dimensions. Just before this in chapter 9, in a couple of the sections we skipped, we see Jesus reveal the heights of His glory in the feeding of the 5,000 and being transfigured in bright splendor on the mountaintop. But Jesus had also begun to reveal the depths of His suffering just before this too: predicting His impending death, twice.

When Luke says that Jesus has "resolutely set out for Jerusalem," those of us who know how the story goes know that "Jerusalem" really means the cross and Jesus' death.

And so it's here in Luke, just a third of the way through, that Jesus resolutely turns His face toward his purposes in death, resurrection, and ascension. The depths of suffering, the heights of glory. And everything that follows is done, said, and written in light of this journey to the cross.

Immediately after these verses, in fact, Jesus will have some hard words for all those who would seek to follow Him in this journey. Words like, "No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God." Jesus says this now as one who has firmly put His hand to the plow. Jesus is resolute. He is headed for Jerusalem.

We know who Jesus is now. The question, is are we resolute in our desire to follow him? He's headed to Jerusalem. There is no way to follow him there that does not involve taking up our cross and facing our own death. So are you resolute? Ready to follow, daily?

For those who do resolutely take up their cross and follow, the promise of Jesus' gift of life waits just on the other side.

At that time Jesus healed many people. They had illnesses, sicknesses and evil spirits. He also gave sight to many who were blind. So, Jesus replied to the messengers, "Go back to John. Tell him what you have seen and heard. Blind people receive sight. Disabled people walk. Those who have skin diseases are made 'clean.' Deaf people hear. Those who are dead are raised to life. And the good news is announced to those who are poor. Blessed is anyone who does not give up their faith because of me (Luke 7:21-23).

In our text, John the baptizer has sent some of his disciples to Jesus asking him if he really was the one. Was Jesus really the messiah Israel was expecting from God? Luke is still working out his initial question: who is Jesus?

In reply to John, Jesus says that yes, he is the Messiah from God, but not the kind of messiah Israel was expecting.

You see, John had preached about coming wrath, destruction, fire, judgment (3:7-9, 17). But the words and deeds of Jesus had very little if any of this stuff. Even John's arrest and imprisonment had provoked no counterblast of judgment from the powers of the kingdom of God.

John was clearly puzzled. Jesus wasn't doing what he had expected. If Jesus really was the Messiah, why wasn't he establishing the sort of messianic kingdom John wanted, the kind in which prisoners like himself were liberated and folks like Herod got what was coming to them?

In reply to John's question, Jesus points to what he is doing: healing all sort of people. Then quoting from various prophecies in Isaiah, encourages folks to draw their own conclusion.

This is the kind of Messiah Jesus intends to be: not a straightforward rival to Herod. In the end, Jesus' kingdom will challenge and outlast all the Herods in the world. But for now, his kingdom will operate in a different mode altogether, healing people and the world at every level.

On the one hand, there is encouragement for the Christian in this confrontation between John and Jesus. John had proclaimed Jesus coming, but when Jesus came, John didn't get it. Jesus doesn't berate John with some form of "how could you even ask". Instead, he invites John and his disciples to come have a closer look. Rather than pushing John away, he draws him nearer.

If Jesus could deal with John's questions and doubts, surely, he will be equally merciful to us when we question him. The church has often frowned on people with questions, telling them just to believe. In this, the church does not seem to follow her Lord at all. He was not offended by the questions and doubts. He simply invited the questioners to have a closer look. So let us no longer hide and silence our questions, but rather use them as opportunities to look deeper into what God is up to.

On the other hand, this confrontation poses a challenge for the Christian. Blessing belongs to the person who is not offended by Jesus. His style of ministry is not with the powerful flair of position and status the world expects and we want. Nonetheless he has been sent from God. Can we believe that acts of love and mercy do bring forth the kingdom? Its more thrilling to be involved in protest movements that dethrone governments. But Jesus always resisted such things. His kingdom comes through subversive acts of kindness and mercy. Can we accept that?

John's disciples told him about all these things. Calling two of them, he sent them to the Lord to ask, "Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?" When the men came to Jesus, they said, "John the Baptist sent us to you to ask, 'Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?'" (Luke 7:18-20).

Jesus is the one who raises the dead. He raises dead hopes, dead-end lives, and even our own dead bodies one day. Jesus just proved it as he raised the dead widow's son just 4 verses previous.

The reaction of the crowd to this act of resurrection was to praise God. The reaction of John the Baptist was doubt and despair. Or at least that's how we often read it.

Why might John have had cause to despair? Well, he was imprisoned, for one. So while Jesus was proclaiming good news to the captives, John's chains had notably not been released. Nor had a baptism of fire seemingly rained down. Nor had Herod or Ceasar been dethroned or kicked out of Jerusalem. No political victories in Jesus' column yet, and vanishingly few spiritual victories for the vast majority of Jews, including John, either.

It does not always look like our cause is winning, either. We're tired. We're facing mental health challenges, loneliness, a sense of powerlessness, and much sadness. Especially now in the wake of Jerilee's death, another young mother robbed from her family—we can feel the helplessness of grief in the face of these powers of cancer and death that despite our best efforts, we just can't control. And so we wonder: is Jesus really God here?

The power of John's question, is that he asks it to Jesus. Doubt and questions are a good thing in the life of faith. They mention the important unmentionables in those places where we see and feel a deep disconnect between the promises God has given and the reality we live. But to be questions of faith—a faithful doubt—they must be questions that we eventually ask to Jesus.

Perhaps there's a different way to understand John's question though. And I think this side speaks something true about doubt as well.

Perhaps John's question was born more of a faithful searching than a despairing disbelief. Luke doesn't have John meeting Jesus until this moment, and so perhaps John was simply searching for the Messiah he had preached and prepared the way for all these years. Was it Jesus, or should he continue his search? Seeing John's question this way speaks of a desire to know this Messiah. A desire to keep looking until he finds. A committed faith that's seeking understanding.

Much doubt is born from both of these places: both the place of despair, and the place of searching.

Both sorts of doubt are faithful when they ask their hard questions to Jesus.

Then he went up and touched the bier they were carrying him on, and the bearers stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, get up!" The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to his mother. They were all filled with awe and praised God. "A great prophet has appeared among us," they said. "God has come to help his people." This news about Jesus spread throughout Judea and the surrounding country. (Luke 7:14-17)

Jesus has done some pretty incredible things already. He has healed the sick. Forgiven sins. Driven out demons through his word. Through all these things, Jesus has continued to show that he is Lord and God.

But in this story, Jesus crosses another plane entirely. Only two things are certain in life, we say: death and taxes. The people in Jesus' day knew that truth just as well. They were subject to both, just like we are.

But then something new happens. Jesus stops the funeral procession with his presence and his touch. And with a simple word, he commands this young man back from the inevitability of death into life. Jesus word reaches through the un-crossable barrier of death, penetrates into the hearing of the dead so that even the dead respond. Jesus word holds final authority in every realm: the demonic, the physiological, even the realms of life and death. No frontier is beyond the earshot or sovereignty of Jesus' authoritative word.

And as this man is suddenly and immediately snapped back from death to life, so his mother's life is reclaimed from the dead. Women had no other means to life than through connection with a man for their security, property rights, and provision. So death immediately flees: not just from this young man's body, but also from the reality of his mother and home: even the town and its community of people are brought from death to life as a funeral procession turns into a festive parade.

With a word Jesus transforms even the most hardened and stark realities of our life and world instantly. Though it can be hard to see and appreciate at times: pictures like these of the power of Jesus to bring life are there to remind us of the crux of our Gospel hope in him. That, in the words of Fredrich Beauchner: "all the death that ever was, set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup."

That is, no matter the darkness, the fear, the doubt, the hard realities or decisions, the busyness, the stress, the strain, the hurt, the pain that you face: our hope in Jesus is that one day, he will speak the word that transforms all of it, in an instant, to life.

May God come to help his people, and soon. Amen. Come Lord Jesus.

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is 1 Samuel 7:2-17 from the New International Version of the Bible. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

Dive In Questions

1. Why is this story in Israel's life so discouraging? Does this still happen today?

1. Israel wants to be like the nations around her. How does this temptation surface in the life of Christians today and in the life of the church? How do we develop good self-identity as Christians?

1. How did Israel's request for a king reflect a crisis of faith? Why is it so difficult to live by faith? What do Christians and churches put their trust in today? What kind of kings do we want?

1. What did God do with this request? What kind of King should Israel have waited for? Will you follow God's king?

When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at the commander. Jesus turned to the crowd that was following him. He said, "I tell you, even in Israel I have not found anyone whose faith is so strong." (Luke 7:9-10).

How does one get noticed by God? How does one get into his good books? When thinking about our own death, we tend to ask, 'How do I get into heaven?' Let us ask the question a different way, "What pleases God?" or to use the language of our text, "What amazes God?"

Now, if you have been a Christian for some time, you probably have already given the standard answer to these questions, "by grace through faith" (Eph. 2:8). Of course, you are right, that's how we get into heaven. Yet, I wonder how committed we are to this. No, that's not quite what I'm asking. Here is my concern: I don't think many Christians recognize how difficult it is to hold true to this answer.

When we go to funerals, we generally get a recitation of the deceased person's good qualities. Sometimes, it gets summed up like this, "they were an angel in this life, so of course God will let them in. Heaven has another angel." This morning in the newspaper I read such sentiments: if I do enough good in this world, I will get into heaven. It's difficult for us Christians to keep this sentiment from creeping into our worldview.

In our text for today, we meet a good person. He is a Roman military man, so not a Jew. He was wealthy enough to have helped the Jews build their synagogue in Capernaum. Moreover, he loves the Jewish nation. In this story, he sends some Jewish elders to Jesus because he has a dying servant, hoping that Jesus will do another healing. The elders advocate for him, "he is a good man, Jesus, he deserves this request."

For unknown reasons, Jesus begins the journey to his house. But on the way he is met by the man's friends with a new message, containing two things (7:7). First, 'I am unworthy to have you come; I am unworthy of your attention'. He recognizes that despite having done significant good in this world, God owes him nothing. Can we say that? He did not even feel worthy of being visited by God's agent. Doesn't self-worth often subvert our faith? And we get angry with God because we think we deserve better than we are getting in life.

Second, the unnamed man believes Jesus has authority over illness, just say the word and it will be accomplished. He believed Jesus could heal by a simple sovereign word even at a physical distance—a situation that applies even more today considering Jesus' presence in heaven. And he knew that Jesus cared enough to do so.

Such faith and humility in approaching God's power are what amazes Jesus. This faith isn't an abstract belief about God, or the learning of dogmas. It is the simple, clear belief that when Jesus commands that something be done, it will be done. Further, when God acts for our good, it is undeserved.

The gospels are full of stories in which the things Jesus does and speaks amaze people. But here Jesus is amazed. It was not the man's accomplishments, his good works, that amazed Jesus, but the man's faith in who Jesus is and in Jesus' power.

We are invited to consider our own faith. Do we believe this about Jesus? Here is a Gentile who understood who Christ is. This passage calls us to possess a similar faith. God owes us nothing, yet he extends his compassion to us. God honors us with his grace, not because we deserve it, but because he cares (1 John 4:9–10).

This passage invites us to echo another petitioner in the gospels, "I do believe! Help me overcome my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24).

"Why do you call me, 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say?7 As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice, I will show you what they are like. They are like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete." (Luke 6:46-49)

Jesus is Lord was one of the earliest creeds of the Christian faith. If Jesus is Lord, Caesar is not. Money is not. The approval of our parents, spouse, friends, or society is not. If Jesus is Lord: he is Lord. He commands our respect, our obedience, and our submission to his will because if Jesus is Lord, he is King.

The parable of the two house builders invites the question: on what foundation have you built your hopes, home, and security in this world? On Jesus and his Lordship? Or somewhere else?

As for Jesus' Lordship: you've heard his commands over this past week of devotions from his sermon on the plain: "spend yourselves on behalf of the poor, love your enemies, do not judge or condemn, forgive and give, take the plank out of your own eye first, love the Lord your God with your whole heart, soul, mind, and strength."

So: today's devotion is pretty simple. You likely call Jesus Lord when you pray to him or talk about him: "Lord, Lord." Do you also treat him as your Lord: bending the knee, building your life in him alone, loving him alone, and doing what he says?

'No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. Each tree is recognised by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thorn-bushes, or grapes from briers. A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of (Luke 6:43-45).

Has anyone ever washed out your mouth with soap? I seem to recall being threatened with the Sunlight bar a few times. I suspect my mom was wielding it. Maybe you have warned your children if their choice of words didn't change, you'd have to get the detergent out.

I totally understand the impulse for such threats and that they are not intended to teach anything theological or spiritual. But I wonder if such language doesn't expose our unwillingness to understand the true nature of the human spiritual condition.

Do we think of religion, even the Christian faith, as simply a form of behaviour modification? If we can just tweak our language over here or adjust our thinking on this point or change our conduct on these few occasions, we will be godly. Many preachers are guilty of essentially preaching '3 steps' for self improvement sermons.

Years ago, I came across this sentence, "Jesus' doctrine of the kingdom as both inward and outward, coming first in the heart of [a person] and after wards in the external world, upholds the primacy of the spiritual and ethical over the physical" (Vos, Geerhardus. The Teaching of Jesus concerning the Kingdom of God and the Church).

I know it's a bit of a complex sentence, but for some reason it struck me, and it's stuck to me like a bur to a hand knitted mitten. I'm sure I had heard such things before but now they had hold of me. The Christian religion is first a religion of the heart. It is the heart that matters most. And we need a heart transplant. All of us.

Washing away some dirty words or eradicating some bad behaviour will not suffice. More of the same evil will always work its way to the surface. Jesus put is succinctly, "For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of."

The entire New Testament objects to the popular expression, "its not what you say but what you do that counts." Both matter! And both reveal what the heart is made of. We must be concerned with our hearts and their fruit which our words and actions reveal. If they are evil, we are in trouble.

The Christian religion is not simply about behaviour modification, even though that is part of it. It is primarily about heart transplants. Or, to use Jesus' language, "You must be born again" (John 3:7). And that is what Jesus came to do. That is why he died. He came to cleanse us, not on the outside, but on the inside, so that we can produce good fruit from good hearts.

That is why Paul told the church, "Be filled with the Spirit" (Ephesians 5:18). The clearest evidence of the presence of the Holy Spirit is in the things Christians speak. Start reading at Ephesians 4:16 through the end of chapter 5 and notice how often Paul refers to matters of the tongue.

We cannot grow up into Christ without our speech changing. But washing our mouths will have little effect except causing us to gag. We need a heart transplant and for that we need the blood of Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit. Trust me, Jesus is up to the task.

In this text, Jesus offers the best description of social media to date: "the blind leading the blind." It seems our whole society is falling into a pit as a result. But, pot shots against social media aside, there's something really important in Jesus' words here for our particular cultural moment.

We get really excited about commenting on current issues and events. Certainly we have our thoughts about the current protests in Ottawa and the government response. Many folks have thoughts on the conversations around gender, sexuality, and orientation. There are many other examples.

Closer to home though, we tend to make judgements and speak into the lives of others that to us seem to be making mistakes or bad decisions. We want to inform and correct those we see stepping into sin. Arising from the evangelical or popular Christian world that many of us are influenced by, there is a compulsion drilled into us to proactively seek or act to correct the errant ways in others. They need to know what they're doing is wrong, and we feel like the Christian faith requires us to tell them.

But does it? It seems to me in the very least that quite a long list of prior criteria must be met before we're even allowed to. Are we the right person? Is our heart in the right place to hold the weight of someone else's sin with the love and compassion it requires as Jesus did? Do we even see or understand the situation and our faith clearly enough to weigh in?

Jesus' words here flip the conversation around entirely as he points out that we ought to be far more concerned about the planks in our own eyes than we are about the specks in someone else's. Jesus is never nearly as concerned about someone else's character or sin as he is about your own. I do believe he means us to take the same approach. Hence Jesus' stern words against judging or condemning others in the preceding verses. This is the same Jesus who said "let the one who is without sin cast the first stone."

The Christian faith begins with humility, surrender, and submission. We submit to God—to whom all of us are finally accountable. Slowly in the presence of God, we discover the sins and faults in our own hearts and lives. And, as the Spirit enables us, we confess these sins, repent, and receive forgiveness. Slowly but surely, Christian character—the character of Jesus—is formed within us. A character that looks like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Perhaps when we begin to see each of these fruit regularly and consistently in our lives and when others can verify that they see the same, perhaps then we've come to a place where we're ready to attend to the speck in someone else's eye. But only after a long, humbling, submissive journey with our Lord where we ourselves have learned from him what it is to be a sinner met, healed, and restored with loving grace, compassion, and forgiveness. And even then, I don't know that we are ever to be eager to do it. Perhaps only willing, when called upon, as an act of loving submission to the God to whom both of us must give an account.

How might this word from Jesus change the way that you engage with others this week and with the sins you perceive in their lives? How different might our world be because of it?

"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." (Luke 6:37-38)

What things do you feel judgemental about these days? What do you condemn? There are lots of possibilities these days: I think of the truck protests, health restrictions and mandates, the government, various positions, identifications, and responses in the land of human sexuality, etc.

It does not really matter which side of these matters any one of us might fall on—the question is about when and where we pass judgement. And I would imagine that most of us do: somewhere. Every statement and action public or private falls under intense scrutiny these days, and many of us are given to the same.

Not that this hasn't always been an issue, but it seems to me that social media has really accelerated our ability to feel righteous anger even as it has improved our capacity for making judgements and condemnations from the comfort of our armchair—this is how the algorithms drive our engagement. And while the digital world has probably also widened our portfolio of causes to give to, it would seem to have rather diminished our capacity for forgiveness somehow.

The point, I suppose, is that in light of Jesus' words—many of us are not nearly reticent enough to pass judgement or condemnation (perhaps because via social media we no longer face the people that we judge or condemn), nor are we perhaps as ready as we ought to be to forgive (perhaps again because we don't need to face down the people who have hurt us via social media—we just block them).

There are few consequences for stating a bold opinion about matters we likely have very little business wading into. Or so it seems. Jesus seems to suggest that the more judgement, condemnation, lack of forgiveness and gifts we put out into the world, the more judgemental, unforgiving, and scarcity-minded our world becomes which certainly comes back to us in due course. And so, Jesus calls us to something different through a variation of his "do unto others as you would have them do unto you" principle.

Who of us likes being judged? Then we also ought not be ones to pass judgement. Who of us likes being condemned? Then we also ought not be ones to condemn others. However, should we fail in some way, which of us would not like to be extended the grace of forgiveness and restoration? Then we also ought to be people quick to offer that forgiveness and restoration to others.

All of this speaks to a generosity of spirit: a giving that multiplies the gifts swirling around in the world such that we too find ourselves recipients of the very goodness we have sown. In doing this, we follow Jesus who himself sowed a profoundly imbalanced amount of grace and forgiveness into the world: forgiving even those who crucified him (forgiving the rest of us through that act too!); condemning not the woman caught in adultery; judging not before the appointed time, leaving wheat to grow alongside the weeds.

In any case, as tomorrow's text will remind us: most of us plank-eyed people aren't righteous enough to bear the weight of dealing gently with our neighbour's sin anyway. Jesus is the judge who will meet out justice when the time is right—and this is a work best left to him.

Giving and forgiving though? These things have been given to us to do. And we already know the end result: a new creation bursting with life where tables are spread and cups runneth over. Will this measure that will be measured to you by Jesus on that day inform how you measure out gifts and forgiveness to others today?