Mark 4: The Power In A Seed

All three synoptic gospels tell the parable of the Sower and the Four Soils, but only Mark tells its counterpart: the parable of the Growing Seed. The first exhorts us to receive God's word as good soil, the second comforts us that Kingdom growth ultimately depends on the supernaturally potent seed of the Gospel.  This power is invisible. It is inexplicable. And it is unstoppable.

I am reminded of the children's song  (click on first line for all words):

Oh I marvel at the wisdom of my God
yes I marvel at the wisdom of my God
when I saw the little lily
pushing up that mighty clod
yes I marvel at the wisdom of my God

By God's grace I must sow seed and be good soil. I am his co-laborer. But the power, power, wonder-working power - that's on Him. At Calvary Roman soldiers snickered at the Jewish rabbi for being seemingly oblivous to how real power works. "He cannot save himself." Almost 20 centuries later we name our children James and John, and our dogs Zeus and Caesar. 

May the seed sown this past week "bear much fruit". 

Mark 2: Unnecessary Medical Equipment, and The Unforgiveable Sin

When Jesus heals chronically ill people, they don't need their "life sustaining equipment" anymore. Last Friday Keene Medical dropped by and took away the oxygen tanks and breathing apparatus that Diane will never, ever, need again. I helped carry it to the truck. Gladly. With a spring in my step.

And so it must have been for the paralytic told by Jesus, "my son, your sins are forgiven, take up your bed and walk." One moment the poor fellow would have been (even more) miserable without his bed. The next - he scoops it up and walks away! No doubt with a spring in his step, too.

[Which reminds me of a funny cartoon. Jesus is about to lay hands on a paralytic, but stops when the guy says, "Are you CRAZY?! I could lose my disability check!" Well - funnier when you see it, I guess.]

And then Jesus turns his attention to the much harder-to-treat illness of acute spiritual pride. Those suffering from it consider it a blessing (shared only by them). In its final, terminal stages, symptoms include disorientation and confusion, i.e. delusions of "we aren't sick, everyone else is" and insisting that the delivering and healing work of the Holy Spirit is actually the work of Satan. When the disease has progressed thus far, says the Great Physician, it is terminal.

This condition should NOT be confused with early stage rebellion, idle daydreaming about the spiritual experiences of others, or honest uncertainty about the ways of God with man. These conditions are wholly responsive to repentance and then continuous daily treatments of the Word's reproof, correction and training in righteousness. In fact, simply being concerned that one may have contracted this fatal malady indicates the actual affliction is completely reversible.

In Paradise Lost, Milton's Satan said "Evil, Be Thou My Good." It is this sort of total, sweeping, uncompromising rejection of the revealed work of God that constitutes the "Unforgiveable Sin." The dusty, ancient Interpreter's Bible I found at Fletcher Library in Burlington called this sin "a distortion of the whole spiritual being, by which we are blinded to good and call it evil, and thus cut ourselves off from God and God's cause." There is a point, unknown to us, at which God's spirit will contend with man no more. But for those whose hearts desire it, the mercy and forgiveness of our wonderful Savior are always free for the asking. Hallelujah, what a savior.

OYNTB for Mark 1: of wild animals, angels, and The Call

I am struck by the humility of John the Baptist, especially when compared to the pride of the Pharisees. From Elizabeth's womb he was Messiah's herald. Saying he was “not worthy to untie the sandals” of Jesus was not empty self-debasement but a confession of his own unworthiness before and willingness to serve Israel's Judge, for whom he preached repentance and forgiveness. How unlike the religious establishment that wouldn't stoop to untie anyone’s sandals, least of all someone they blindly insisted was just a Galilean carpenter's son.  

I am struck by the promise of Jesus to Peter and Andrew: "I will make you fishers of men." With those four words he took responsibility. They would be apprentice Kingdom builders, their training and welfare now the responsibility of the Cornerstone Himself. Not theirs to wonder how, when or where. The only condition: "Come, follow me."

Finally I am struck by Mark's brief, vivid description of Jesus in the desert for 40 days. Of the gospel writers, only he mentions the presence of both wild animals and angels. I too have been sent out into a desert on a solitary pilgrimage that will last, I suspect, more than 40 days.

As I begin, three things I know already. First, I will face the "wild animals" of the world, the flesh and the devil. This unholy trinity would leave me a pile of bleached bones, if it could.  Second, angels will attend me; some visible, others not. Third, the voice that has called me into the desert is saying, "Come, follow me."

Matthew 28 - Come and See, Go and Tell

I am struck that the words of the angel given to Mary and the other women - "Come and see" that he is risen, and "go and tell" the others - is a fitting conclusion to Matthew. I know that the Great Commission is the real culmination, but there is something simple and direct about the angel's words for all of us. We, like Mary and Joseph and Zechariah, need to heed the angel, but unlike those "B.C." figures, we have the rock-solid eyeball evidence of the empty tomb and the Risen Christ.  "Come and see." And for those who have, the message must be shared with those who haven't - yet: "Go and tell."

February will be the Month of Mark. I've been thinking about the Jesus I have met in Matthew this month. I see an Annointed One drawing people into a new Kingdom of God. The old paradigm, the old covenant that Israel had so manifestly failed to obey, lay in tatters. The virgin bride of Israel had gone astray, and her leaders were in fierce denial aka willful blindness. In the fullness of time, it was time for a new Kingdom, born of the old. Unlike the old covenant, the new promised zippo of peace, prosperity and worldly comfort. There was no more "every man neath his vine and fig tree, will live in peace and unafraid" - in this world. Jesus made no promises of worldly plenty. (How strange that since then the cultures that at least seemed to reverence him most are the most affluent!) But he promised his followers, and modeled for them, internal and eternal love, joy, peace unbounded and overflowing.

And what a man. What a courageous, honest, compassionate, powerful, true-hearted man. How awful is sin and how well-deserved its condemnation and the devil's, if the First Adam was anything as majestic as the Second. We have fallen far. Hallelujah, what a savior!

Matthew 27: Pilate’s Wife and the Resurrected Dead

In the supporting characters of Matthew 27 I see myself and the rest of this broken world. One and all we either stand on this Rock or are crushed by it. Judas, the murderous scribes and Pharisees indifferent to the remorse of a traitor, Pilate, Barabbas, the amazed centurion, Joseph of Arimathea – books and movies by the dozen have told their stories. Fortunately for this poor blogger, they (and of course the Central Character) are also discussed by the other three gospel writers, so they can wait for a later post. Today I can focus on the only two mentioned exclusively by Matthew: Pilate’s wife and the resurrected wanderers.

This afternoon I finished “Alex Cross’s Trial” by James Patterson, a beach-reading novel about a lynch-happy Mississippi town of 100 years ago.  (If “lynching” and “beach-reading” in the same sentence doesn’t speak to the pervasiveness of sin, I don’t know what does.) Everyone in Eudora knows the Klan is lynching negroes whose only offense is offending fearful, hating white supremacists.

And so it is with Pilate’s wife, who tells her husband, “have nothing to do with that innocent man.” How casually she says it – “an innocent man.” She doesn’t need to persuade Pilate. He already knows. The First Couple and everyone else in town knew Jesus was innocent. It was understood. Like the former slave asserting his God-given freedom, his only crime was being true to an identity that his twisted world refused to accept. Their loyalties were to self, family, riches, power, tribe – not to justice and righteousness.

By happy contrast the holy dead are raised in freedom. What a wild story. Jesus dies, the earth shakes, the veil of the temple is broken – and as Matthew only tells, people emerge from their tombs and walk around, freed from death and the power of sin. After the resurrection on the third day, they enter the City. Is it Spirit-powered “performance art” prophecy, foretelling the Great Day when the dead in Christ shall rise? Whatever else it is, it’s a powerful sign that, as the centurion said, “surely this man was a son of God.”

  

Matthew 26: The only good man, the only treatment for sin

Poet William Butler Yeats wrote in "The Second Coming"

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold... The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity

I think Yeats was writing about the rise of the Nazis. But he also describes Matthew 26, where Judas, the mob, and the ruling Pharisees are "full of passionate intensity" while Peter and friends "lack all conviction," unable to keep God's son company or even admit they know him. 

Only one man stands strong. Jesus, praying alone in selfless obedience when everyone else slept.  Jesus, speaking calm words of authority to stop religious mob violence. Jesus, speaking truth to murderous, lying power, knowing his words will be used as a pretext for killing him. For those he calls to be dragged before the authorities to testify (see Matthew 10, he sets an example. As John was the last and greatest of the Hebrew prophets, Jesus is the firstborn of the suffering servants and martyrs whose blood is the seed of the church.   

How many tired, lonely prayer warriors has his example inspired? How many brothers and sisters in the crucible of suffering have bowed their heads and found joy in the words, "not my will but thy will be done?" How many evangelists and activists have met mob opposition with inspired words of authority?

This is the spotless Lamb of God who said, “Drink…all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

The awfulness of sin is so apparent in Matthew 26. It has so warped the hearts of the Heirs of Abraham that individually and collectively they plan and carry out the murder of the greatest of their prophets, the very Son of the Owner of the Vineyard. At best, they stand by cowed, helpless, selfish.

Last Sunday, I heard Jericho Congregational Church Sunday School teacher Rich Parker describe in moving terms the awfulness of our sin and the high price that must be paid for its utter destruction. Rich and his wife Linda lost their only child, John, to a long struggle with leukemia. He told us that leukemia cells are so insidious that EVERY CELL must be destroyed. Leaving just one cell alive invites an unrelenting multiplication that “when full blown, leads to death,” as James says. And so the painful, invasive, destructive chemo treatments are injected into the innocent victim’s body to do its terrible work. Nothing less will do.

In the spiritual realm, halfway treatments – slaughtered goats, alms for the poor, trying to follow the Golden Rule, etc. – will not destroy sin. Revival occurs not when people want to improve society, but when they die to self and embrace the cross. The violence, hatred, indifference, religious hypocrisy, and individual and societal spiritual death that plagued Israel and plagues the world today can be eradicated only by the most radical treatment: the application to the human heart of the blood of Jesus shed on the cross.

Matthew 25, "The Sheep and the Goats": Jesus saves the best for last

The medieval scholars who separated the New Testament into chapters did well with Matthew 25. It tells three parables with the same theme: in eternity, the godly will be rewarded and the ungodly punished; therefore choose God. It crescendos with the blunt, emotionally powerful call to compassion that is the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats.

For the godly, Jesus saves the best for last. We are not promised worldly riches, peace, or health – we are not promised we will receive anything from this world, except its scorn.  But when Jesus comes into his kingdom, there will be banquets, ruling of cities, and – best of all – his favor. Of the three, the last is the only one that I am sure is not metaphorical.

“Best for last” also describes, in my opinion, the placement and quality of the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats. Jesus makes our calling so simple, so – unreligious. Treat the needy well, and you will treat me well. Ignore and mistreat them, and you ignore and mistreat me. My friend Tim Callahan – faithful reader of this blog! – once had a dream in which he was so angry he wanted to slug someone. Jesus stepped in front of the person and said, “if you try to hit him, Tim, you will have to hit me first.” In his dream Tim cried, “but Jesus I don’t want to hit you. I love you.” Brother Tim understood right then what it means to be a Sheep.

The parable marks Matthew’s record of Jesus’ teaching ministry. The events leading up to the Passion begin in the next verse. It is as if Jesus is saying, “remember when I healed that leper, comforted that gentile woman, drove the demon out of that man? It was not just for them that I did that – it was for you to see and to keep your eyes open and do likewise. For the rest of your lives, until I come, I want you to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the imprisoned. Love the needy. That is what sons and daughters of the Kingdom do.”

Then he goes to Calvary, purchasing mercy for us when we fail to love perfectly, which as sons of fallen Adam we were born to do. But that is a blog post for another day.