Friday, March 27, 2009

Love Just Is

A simple gesture of humility and service can make a powerful statement.

The night before Jesus' crucifixion, He entered the room where the disciples had gathered, the same disciples who had been debating the seemingly important question of which of them was the greatest. Jesus, acting with intention and humility, picks up a towel and basin of water, and taking the place of the lowest of servants, begins to wash the feet of the disciples. Clearly, the idea that he had come to serve others was more than a nice slogan or vision statement - it was the reality of Jesus' heart, character, and behavior.

That moment, just on the surface, is enough to convict and challenge me in regard to the priorities of my life. But as I look beyond the surface, I consider those sitting around that room, those that Jesus kneels before in the position of a servant. I see James and John who delighted in calling down the fire of judgment and openly campaigned for positions of honor. I see Peter who, despite his promises and great proclamations, will act like a coward and deny any knowledge of this Jesus. I see the "rational" and doubting Thomas who will reject the testimonies of resurrection. And then there is Judas. In just a little while, he will turn his back in betrayal against the very one who is washing his feet. As I look around that room, at those being served by Jesus, I cannot escape this thought: they don't deserve it.

This act of humility reveals the amazing quality of Jesus' love. His love is not based on what we deserve or do not deserve, it is not founded what we have done or what we will do. It just is. This incredible, unconditional love was offered without strings and was demonstrated in the laying down of His life for the undeserving. And now we are called to follow this Jesus.

We have a lot of ways of erecting barriers between the church and the world. For that matter, we have a lot of ways of erecting barriers within the church. One of our wall-building methods is trying to determine who deserves to be served, cared for, and loved. We decide who is worthy of our efforts and attention based on who they are in our eyes, what they have done or not done, or what we think they can offer. The way of Jesus, though, is the path of loving and serving for the sake of loving and serving. It is poured out extravagantly, without regard for what is deserved and with no demand for anything in return. It just is.

In the same way, may our love and service just be.

Friday, March 20, 2009

And So It Continues. . .

Looking over my last couple of posts, there seems to be a consistent theme related to Jesus and his interaction with the religious power structure. It's not that I'm trying to be repetitive or I'm just out of creative ideas (although I freely confess to never having a creative and/or original thought). The reality is, in reflecting on the days leading up to Jesus' crucifixion, we cannot escape the intensifying conflict and clashing perspectives that existed between Jesus and the religious elite. So, the story continues.

After the confrontation at the temple, and the ensuing challenge to his authority, Jesus delivers a prophecy of judgment that begins with an indictment of the teachers of the law and the Pharisees. He exposes them as blind guides and hypocrites who, like whitewashed tombs, cover their spiritual deadness with the appearance of righteousness. Despite their insistence on keeping the law, they violated the more important matters of the law, things like justice, mercy, and faithfulness. Their arrogance and self-righteousness kept them from the kingdom of heaven and hindered others who were trying to enter. As much as Jesus longed to gather them "under his wings" of love and redemption, their spiritual pride and blindness made them unwilling.

Those absolutely convinced that they were both right and righteous had gone terribly wrong. The self-professed upholders of the law had violated the very spirit of the law. The proud defenders of truth ended up denying the Truth.

The Pharisees and the teachers of the law were by no means the last to be blinded by their own certainty and arrogance. There are those who claim to follow Jesus but end up defending their concept of truth in a manner that violates the more important issues of love and mercy. Seeing themselves as above error in all things spiritual, they condemn and divide, marring the witness of Christ's Church in the eyes of the world. More concerned about winning arguments than loving others, they set out on a mission to attack and destroy. Fed by spiritual pride and self-righteousness, they judge the hearts of others and proclaim their judgment publicly.

Does Jesus weep over us as he did Jerusalem?

Humility would remind us that we are not above the blindness of the Pharisees; it tells us that the character of Christ is more important than our arguments. Ultimately, truth cannot be reduced to mere propositions to be debated; truth is found in the person of Jesus Christ and his character must be reflected in us. To defend my understanding of the truth in a manner that is arrogant, divisive, and destructive is to deny the heart and character of the Truth. Remember the more important matters - it was not long after this encounter with the teachers of the law and the Pharisees that Jesus gathered with his disciples and simply told them, "My command is this: Love each other."

Friday, March 13, 2009

"Right" Blindness

Continuing my thoughts about the final days leading up to Jesus' crucifixion, there is a moment of confrontation that occurs following the table-tossing episode at the temple. The chief priests and elders - who are none too happy about this attack on their well-run and personally beneficial system - challenge Jesus, asking him what authority he has to do such a thing. Jesus turns it back on them, promising to answer their question if they first answer the question of whether or not John the Baptist was of God. The chief priests knew full well that the people viewed John as a prophet, but they themselves had rejected him. With that realization, and being the political and self-serving weasels that they were, they weren't about to answer the question.

Jesus made his point. These guys refused to acknowledge authority, even when it was clear. They could not see truth, even when it stood right in front of them. So really, there was no point in answering their question, because regardless of the answer, they would refuse to accept it. The chief priests would defend their position at all costs and against any argument. They were right, period, and no other possibility would be allowed.

It's interesting that in our debates and conflicts, we naturally assume that the other person must be the one who is misguided. Others are negatively shaped by their culture and experience; others water down the truth for the sake of personal convenience; others champion wrong interpretations, based on distorted perceptions and rewritten history. Blindness is always the other guy's problem, and we refuse to hear anything that would suggest otherwise. Desperately holding on to the notion that our understanding or interpretation of absolutely everything is absolutely correct, we reject all else as complete error. And those who happen to view things differently are, at best, dismissed as misguided souls or, at worst, rejected as heretics.

It's sad that the followers of Jesus spend so much time and energy arguing with one another, mostly over non-essential things. What makes it more devastating is our unwillingness to even acknowledge that our understanding might be imperfect. Rather than finding resolution by listening and learning from one another, we become more divisive and entrenched. Insistent that blindness and error must always rest on the other side of the issue, our opinions become convictions and our convictions become certainties. I'm not saying that convictions are wrong or that certainties don't exist; I'm suggesting that our pride too often carries us beyond what is essential and crosses the line of spiritual arrogance and blindness. And this lack of humility can keep us from seeing what God is doing right in front of us.

If you think it doesn't happen, just ask the chief priests who could not recognize the Truth that stood right in front of them.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Good Churches Gone Bad

As we make our way through the Lenten season, I have been reflecting on the final days leading up to Jesus' crucifixion. This morning - when I admittedly wasn't paying attention to the meeting I was in - I gave some thought to the encounter between an angry Jesus and the temple moneychangers. There was a time in my life when I really liked that story because it seemed like an easy defense and justification of my own occasional outbursts. I hope I've matured beyond that misguided notion. The reality is, this event was a vivid demonstration of Jesus' authority and a prophetic indictment of what the institutional religion had become.

One would certainly hope that religious leaders take seriously the call to come alongside others to serve, help, and encourage them in their walk with God. Unfortunately, that call was somehow lost in the religious machinery of Jerusalem. Through a corrupt system of currency exchange and sacrifice sales, those in power manipulated and distorted the system of temple worship into a self-serving mockery. Those who came to worship found themselves exploited, hindered, and abused for the sake of profit. The very things intended to bless and encourage people in their relationship with God were hijacked by insiders for a selfish purpose. It was religion gone bad, an ugly picture of self placed before God and others.

To assume that this episode has nothing to say to us, that somehow we are above the same temptations, is either arrogant or naive. We don't have to look far or hard to find a good church that has gone bad, a place of worship that has been taken captive by the selfish desires of those who believe they are in charge. Like moneychangers, they twist the church into an object of self-interest, serving the wishes and preferences of those inside while those outside are ignored or despised. The very community called to be an instrument of grace, connecting people with the God who loves them, can all too easily take a heartbreaking slide into self-absorbed isolation.

In this season of reflection, humility confronts us with the painful reality that those in the temple courts of Jerusalem were not the last to lose sight of their purpose and call. Sometimes the tables still need to be overturned.