Judgment

Judgment

Judgment - Audio/Visual 

If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land. (2 Chronicles 7:14)

Big Government scooping up meta-data in quantities and in ways which we’ve been completely unaware; where the whistleblower is either a patriot or a traitor, depending upon your viewpoint and, perhaps, where he eventually finds asylum. Or the IRS singling out individuals, religious groups and other organizations that had the name “tea party,” or “patriot” included in their 501(c)(4) applications. And all of us Christians wring our hands and cry out, “See? America is going to hell in a hand basket! Those heathens better start praying and seeking God and turning from their wicked ways and then maybe God will forgive their sins and heal our land.” But is it really “their sins”?

The 2 Chronicles text is what God told Solomon the night after he had consecrated the newly-constructed temple. The corollary, however, was chilling: “But if you (referring to Solomon) turn away and forsake the decrees and commands I have given you …, then I will uproot Israel from my land … and will reject this temple I have consecrated for my Name. I will make it a byword and an object of ridicule among all people. This temple will become a heap of rubble.” (2 Chron. 7:19-21) But why would God do such a thing? Fortunately, God provides the answer: “People will answer, ‘Because they have forsaken the Lord, the God of their ancestors, who brought them out of Egypt, and have embraced other gods, worshiping and serving them — that is why he brought all this disaster on them.’” (vs. 22)

What if it were you living there at that time and walking in their sandals? What if it were you who heard the voice of the prophets and knew that certain judgment was coming and that everyone around you was oblivious to it? That everyone simply went on with their lives with absolutely no idea of what was coming. What would you do? Maybe you’d want them to know. Maybe you’d want them to be saved, so maybe you’d tell them. But who would listen to you? Who’d take your warning seriously? Better yet, what about your own predicament? A nation is heading for judgment, but you’re part of that very same nation. How do you save yourself? Where will you go to find safety? Outside the country? Judgment isn’t a matter of geography; it doesn’t matter where you are. No place is far enough away.

We live in such a time and place, and we’ve heard the voice of the prophets. So the question isn’t hypothetical. It’s not even, “What would you do?” It’s “What will you do? What will you do on the day of your judgment? What if you were one of them, back then, and your life ended before the nation’s judgment came? What then? Would you have escaped judgment? No. Judgment isn’t ultimately about nations; it’s about people. The Hebrew writer said as much: “Just as people are destined to die once, and after that to face the judgment.” (Heb. 9:27)  No one is exempt. And as long as there’s evil, there has to be judgment. Every sin, every wrong, every evil has to be brought to an end. Without it there’d be no hope because heaven would then be filled with locks and prisons, hatred, violence, fear and destruction. Heaven would cease to be heaven. There must be judgment, because evil must end beyond which is then heaven. If evil entered heaven, heaven would cease to be heaven because it would have evil in it.

And who are the evil? Killers; human trafficker’s; pedophiles, etc. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of “evil” categories. But of the categories mentioned, do any of you fit into one of them? Probably not. But remember, “All the ways of a man are right in his own eyes.” (Proverbs 16:2) That’s just human nature, and we have to beware of the good Nazi. A good Nazi? That’s oxymoronic.

The Nazi’s sent millions to their death out of pure hatred and evil. Yet do you think they saw themselves as evil? Probably not. And why? Because they compared themselves and measured themselves by the standards they themselves had created. Each in his own eyes was a good Nazi, a moral Nazi, a decent Nazi, a religious Nazi and a Nazi no worse than the Nazi next door. In other words, by seeing themselves in their own eyes they became blind to the truth of what they’d become. Their judgment would ultimately come in the form of destruction, and their sins would be exposed to the world. Granted, there may be a big difference between Nazis and most people, but the principle remains the same. You can never judge yourself by your own standards and by your own righteousness, but only in light of God’s righteousness.

So how do you hold up in the light of God’s righteousness? Put differently, which do you think is greater – the moral distance that separates us from Hitler, or the moral distance that separates us from God? Right, because the first separation is finite; the second is infinite. So what we see as the slightest of sins within ourselves appears, in the eyes of God who is absolute goodness, even more abhorrently evil than the crimes the Nazis committed appears to us. In the light of the absolute God, hatred becomes murder (Matt. 5:22), and lust becomes adultery. (vs. 28) Then who can stand? Who can make it to heaven? Well, no one can stand and no one can make it to heaven on their own because how far would just one sin take you away from the infinite righteousness of God? It would take you an infinite distance away. So then how far are we away from heaven? An infinite distance. And how great is the judgment? Infinitely great. And how long would it take for us to bridge the gap, to be reconciled to God, to enter heaven? An infinity of time. In a word, eternity. So we can never get there on our own, and to be infinitely separated from God and heaven is … well, it’s hell. The infinite separation from God and from all things good, total, infinite and eternal.

Since the soul is eternal, one way or another, even at the end of a thousand ages, we’ll still exist. The question is, “Where?” And if the joy and glory of being in God’s presence in heaven is beyond our imagining, so then, too, is the darkness and horror of being in his absence … forever. Which leaves our predicament even more grave than that of a nation in the hour of judgment. The prospect of entering eternity without God, on the wrong side of an infinite judgment, is far graver than the judgment of any nation – infinitely more so. Nations are temporary; but the soul is eternal.

If you have an infinite gap and an infinite problem what do you need? An infinite solution. Which means that the answer cannot come from yourself, or from this world. It can only come from the Infinite, from heaven … from God. Which means that any given answer, any given ideology, or any given system based on the efforts of man is ruled out which therefore rules out every answer; every answer based on man trying to reach God by reaching upward to heaven with his hand, so to speak. The answer can only come from the Infinite to the finite, from heaven to earth, from God to man. A hand reaching down from heaven. And what alone could answer an infinite judgment? The infinite mercy of an infinite love. And what alone could fill an infinite absence? An infinite presence: the infinite presence of the Infinite love. You see, it’s not about religion. It’s about love. The overcoming of the infinite judgment by the infinite love of God. God is love. And what is the nature of love? To give. To give of itself. To put itself in the place of another even if it means that by doing so it sacrifices itself.

So if God is love, then what would the ultimate manifestation of his love be? The giving of himself. God giving himself to bear the judgment of those under judgment if, by so doing, it would save them. Love puts itself in the place of the other. So then the ultimate manifestation of love would be God putting himself in our place – in our life, in our death, in our judgment, in our eternity. Jesus – the infinite sacrifice. The infinite sacrifice to bear an infinite judgment, in which all sins are nullified and all who partake are set free, forgiven and saved. An infinite redemption in which judgment and death are overcome and a new life is given, a new beginning, a new birth. The love of God is greater than judgment. There is no sin so deep that his love isn’t deeper. No life so hopeless, no soul so far away, and no darkness so dark that his love isn’t greater still. Being religious has nothing to do with it. There’s no religion in heaven, only love; it’s the heart. And you couldn’t have been born into it to begin with, only born again into it. In fact, Jesus told one of the religious wise guys of his day that, “No one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.” (John 3:3) But it can’t happen without you choosing it.

In the Day of Judgment, there’s no safe ground, no salvation, except in him who is salvation. And his name? Jesus. Actually, Yeshua, which in Hebrew means “God is Salvation,” or “God is Deliverance,” “Protection,” “Rescue,” “Freedom,” “Refuge” and “Safety.” And how does that happen? By receiving, by letting go, by letting the old life end and the new one begin. By choosing, by opening your heart to receive that which is beyond containing – the presence, the mercy, the forgiveness, the cleansing, the unending love of God. Which means accepting the gift, freely given and freely received, and yet so great a gift that you treasure it above life itself – so great a gift that it changes everything else. And the gift? Well, if God is love, and love is a gift, then the Giver and the Gift are the same. Salvation comes in the giving of his life and is complete in the receiving of his life. And it takes place anywhere and any place. Alone, or with others. Wherever you are. It takes place anywhere, because it takes place in the heart. But it doesn’t take place at any time. It only takes place at one time. Now.

Now is the only time in which it can happen. Paul, in writing to the church in Corinth, said, “Now is the time of salvation.” (2 Cor. 6:2) Never tomorrow, only now. I suppose if we were talking about tomorrow it could still happen then. But only when then has become now, and tomorrow is today. But when that happens, where will you be? And what if you choose not to choose, at least for now? Well, then you’ve chosen already. If you don’t choose to be saved, then you’ve chosen not to be saved. Your life and your eternity … it all rests on one heartbeat. So then what will you do on the Day of Judgment? In the end, that’s the only question really. And no one knows when that day will come. The only thing you can be sure of is that it will come, and the only time you can be sure of is now. Now is all you have. And now is the time of salvation.

It’s a big decision. But it’s too big a decision not to make. And you don’t have to see to believe. In God’s economy it’s just the opposite: believing is seeing. Seeing the meaning, the purpose of your life, the reason you were born. It’s the only way you’ll ever find it. Only in him who gave you life can you truly find its meaning.

Grace,

Randy

 

Seeds

 

Seeds

Seeds - Audio/Visual 

Who has believed our message and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain. Like one from whom people hide their faces he was despised, and we held him in low esteem. (Isaiah 53:1-3)

Want to see a miracle? Take a seed the size of a freckle, put it under several inches of dirt, give it plenty of water, light and fertilizer and then get ready. A mountain will be moved. It doesn’t matter that the ground weighs a thousand times more than the weight of the seed. The seed will push it back. And every spring, dreamers around the world plant tiny hopes in overturned soil. And every spring, their hopes press against impossible odds and explode into bloom. Never underestimate the power of a seed.

As far as I know, James, the writer of the book after his name, wasn’t a farmer. He was, after all, the half-brother of Jesus so maybe he was a contractor. But regardless of his profession, he knew the power of a seed sown in fertile soil. Here’s what he said: “Those who are peacemakers will plant seeds of peace and reap a harvest of goodness.” (James 3:18) And the principle for peace is the same as the principle for crops: never underestimate the power of a seed. Take the story of Heinz, for example.

Europe, 1934. Hitler’s plague of anti-Semitism has infected a continent. Some would escape it. Some would die from it. But eleven-year-old Heinz would learn from it. He would learn the power of sowing seeds of peace. Heinz was a young Jewish boy in Hitler’s Europe, and the Bavarian village of Fürth, where Heinz lived, was being overrun by Hitler’s young thugs. Heinz’s father, a schoolteacher, had lost his job. All recreational activities had ceased. Tension mounted on the streets, and Jewish families clutched to the traditions that held them together – the observance of the Sabbath, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Old ways now took on new significance. And as the storm of persecution blackened and swelled, these ancient observances were a precious cleft in a mighty rock. And as the streets became a battleground, that kind of security meant survival.

Hitler youth roamed the neighborhoods just looking for trouble, and young Heinz learned to keep his eyes open. When he saw a band of troublemakers, he would step to the other side of the street. Sometimes he would escape a fight; sometimes not. One day in 1934, a pivotal confrontation occurred. Heinz found himself face-to-face with a Hitler bully and a beating appeared inevitable. This time, however, he walked away unhurt – not because of what he did but because of what he said. He didn’t fight back; he spoke up, instead. He convinced the troublemakers that a fight wasn’t necessary. His words kept a battle at bay. And Heinz saw firsthand how a word can bring peace. He learned the skill of using words to avoid conflict. And for a young Jewish boy in Hitler-infested Europe, that skill had many opportunities to be honed and perfected.

Fortunately, Heinz’s family escaped from Bavaria and made their way to America. Later in life, Heinz would downplay the impact those adolescent experiences had had on his development. But it makes you wonder because after Heinz grew up his name became synonymous with peace negotiations. His legacy became that of a bridge-builder. Somewhere he had learned the power of the properly placed word of peace. And you have to wonder if his training didn’t initially come on the streets of Fürth. But you may not know him as Heinz. You probably know him by his Anglicized name, Henry. Henry Kissinger. Never underestimate the power of a seed.

How good are you at sowing seeds of peace? You may not be called on to stave off an international conflict, but you will have opportunities to do something more vital: to bring inner peace to troubled hearts. Jesus modeled this. Interestingly, however, we don’t see Jesus settling many disputes or negotiating conflicts. What we do see is Jesus cultivating inward harmony through acts of love: washing the feet of men he knew would betray him; having lunch with a corrupt tax official; honoring the sinful woman whom society had scorned. Jesus built bridges by healing hurts. He prevented conflict by touching the conflicted. He cultivated harmony by sowing seeds of peace in fertile hearts.

Pause for a moment and think about the people who make up your world. Stroll through the gallery of faces that are significant to you. Mentally flip through the scrapbook of snapshots that picture the ones with whom you deal often. Can you see their faces? Your spouse. Your best friend. Your golf buddies. Your kids. Your aunt across the country. Your neighbor across the street. Your co-worker. Freeze-frame those mental images for a moment while I tell you how some of them may be feeling.

I went to my doctor for my annual physical and, at my age, the doctor does stuff that I wasn’t even aware should be done. As a result, he ordered the works on me. One nurse put me on a table and stuck little cold suction cups on my chest. Another nurse wrapped a heavy band around my arm and squeezed a black bulb until my arm tingled. Then they pricked my finger and told me to fill up a cup. Awkward. Then, with all the preliminaries done, they put me in a room and told me to take off my shirt and wait for the doctor. There’s something about being poked, pushed, measured and drained that makes you feel a little bit like a head of lettuce in the produce department at the local grocery store. I sat on a cold metal chair, stared out the window and waited.

Somebody in your world probably feels like I felt in my doctor’s office. The daily push and shove of the world has a way of leaving us worked over and worn out. Someone in your gallery of people is sitting on a cold aluminum chair of insecurity, clutching the backside of a hospital gown for fear of exposing what little pride he or she has left. And that person desperately needs a word of peace. Someone needs you to do for them what my doctor did for me.

My doctor is a small-town Pilipino doctor that practices in a big city. He still remembers names and probably keeps pictures of patients he’s seen over the years on his office bulletin board. And though you know he’s busy, he makes you feel like you’re his only patient. So, after a bit of small talk and few questions about my medical history, he put down my file and said, “Let me take my doctor’s hat off for a minute and talk to you as a friend.” I’ve known my doctor for a quarter of a century.

Our chat lasted maybe five minutes. He asked me about my family. He asked me about my work load. He asked me about my stress. Nothing profound, nothing probing. He went no deeper than I would allow, but I had the feeling that he would have gone to the bottom of the pit with me had I needed him to do so. After our chat, he then went about his job of tapping my knee with his rubber hammer, staring down my throat, looking in my ears and listening to my chest. When he was all done, as I was buttoning up my shirt, he took his doctor’s hat off again and reminded me not to carry the world on my shoulders, and to eat fewer potato chips. “And be sure to love your wife and those kids. Because when it all boils down to it, you’re not much without them.” And he walked out as quickly as he’d come in — a seed sower in a doctor’s smock.

Want to see a miracle? Plant a word of love heart-deep in a person’s life. Nurture it with a smile and a prayer, and watch what happens. An employee gets a compliment. A wife receives a bouquet of flowers. A cake is baked and carried next door. A widow is hugged. A gas-station attendant is honored. Sowing seeds of peace is like sowing beans – you don’t know how or why it works; you just know that it does. Seeds are planted and topsoils of hurt are shoved away. Never underestimate the power of a seed. God didn’t.

When his kingdom was ravaged and his people had forgotten his name, he planted his seed. When the soil of the human heart had grown crusty, he planted his seed. When religion had become a ritual and the temple a trading post, he planted his seed. Want to see a miracle? Watch him as he places the seed of his own self in the fertile womb of a young Jewish girl. Up it grew, “like a tender green shoot, sprouting from a root in dry and sterile ground.” (Isaiah 53:2) The stones of legalism that burdened backs; the stones of oppression that broke bones; the stones of prejudice that fenced out the needy. All of them – every one of them – overturned and shoved aside. By a seed.

But it was that final stone that proved to be the supreme test of the seed. The stone of death — rolled there by humans and sealed by Satan in front of the tomb. And for a moment it appeared that the seed would be stuck in the earth. For a moment, it looked like the rock was too big to be budged. But then, somewhere in the heart of the earth, the seed of God stirred, shoved and then sprouted. The ground trembled, the rock of the tomb tumbled and the Easter Lilly blossomed.

Never underestimate the power of a seed. Never.

Grace,

Randy

Depression

 

Depression

Depression - Audio/Visual 

Ahab reported to Jezebel everything that Elijah had done, including the massacre of the prophets. Jezebel immediately sent a messenger to Elijah with her threat: "The gods will get you for this and I'll get even with you! By this time tomorrow you'll be as dead as any one of those prophets." When Elijah saw how things were, he ran for dear life to Beersheba, far in the south of Judah. He left his young servant there and then went on into the desert another day's journey. He came to a lone broom bush and collapsed in its shade, wanting in the worst way to be done with it all — to just die: "Enough of this, God! Take my life — I'm ready to join my ancestors in the grave!" Exhausted, he fell asleep under the lone broom bush. (1 Kings 19:1-4)

Depression. We may call it "the blues," or maybe just "a slump" but it’s all the same. Regardless of what you call it, depression is the most widespread form of emotional illness. It’s the common cold of emotional disorders. In a study of more than 11,000 individuals suffering from depression, clinicians found depression to be more physically and socially disabling than arthritis, diabetes, lung disease, chronic back problems, hypertension and gastrointestinal illnesses. The only medical problem that was more disabling was advanced coronary heart disease. That’s a problem.

Unfortunately, there’s a stigma attached to depression where some think that if a person is in a close relationship with God they’ll never be depressed. That’s a lie. The truth is that there are going to be days, weeks perhaps, maybe even seasons when you wrestle with depression. But that doesn't mean you’re a bad person, a weak person or even an ungodly person. Plenty of people in the Bible suffered from bouts of depression: Moses, Jeremiah and Job, to name a few. Even contemporary figures like Martin Luther and Charles Spurgeon suffered from depression – Spurgeon to the point that he was absent from the pulpit for 2 to 3 months at a stretch. Christianity isn’t an inoculation against depression.

In the passage, Elijah was God's prophet during a time in the life of the nation of Israel when its rulers were leading the people to worship the false gods of Baal and Asherah. To discipline the Israelites and encourage them to turn away from their idols, God shut off the tap and neither dew nor rain fell on the land for three years which resulted in a severe famine. And at the very height of the drought, Elijah challenged King Ahab and his false prophets to a public contest on the top of Mt. Carmel to demonstrate both the power of God and the weakness of Baal and Asherah. Two bulls were chosen for the contest. Elijah sacrificed one to God; the false prophets sacrificed theirs to their idols. The contest was to see whose god was capable of sending fire to consume the bull that lay on the altar.

The 850 false prophets went first. They tried from early morning until late in the afternoon to get their "god" to respond. They ranted and raved and cut themselves to get its attention, all to no avail. Then it was Elijah's turn and he had barely ended his prayer when God answered by sending fire to consume not only the bull that Elijah had drenched with water but the stone altar, too. The wide-eyed Israelites responded in true belief and worship by falling to the ground and confessing that Yahweh, alone, was God. Elijah then commanded that the 850 prophets of Baal and Asherah be seized and executed according to the law of God recorded in Deuteronomy 7. Having finished off the false prophets, Elijah then prayed that God would end the drought and God did just that after Elijah had told Ahab that he’d better hot-foot it the 17 miles back to Jezreel to avoid the approaching downpour.

When Ahab arrived at his summer palace in Jezreel, he was pretty pumped and as he entered the palace he called for Queen Jezebel to tell her all about what had happened. But the part about the power of the living God, the fire from heaven and the thunder and rain that came after Elijah prayed was drowned out when the king got around to telling his wife that 850 of her prophets had been killed. In retaliation, Jezebel put a contract out on Elijah’s life, effectively raining on Ahab’s parade, not to mention Elijah’s. And Elijah’s response? He ran. A lot. Some 115 miles, all the way to Beersheba where he left his servant. And then he continued another day's journey into the Negev (desert) where he pulled up under a Juniper tree and begged God to take him out.

Have you ever felt that way? Like life has gone so sideways, so upside down that it’s just not worth it anymore? That there’s not a soul out there who cares? The truth is that life is full of ups and downs; you can count on that. In fact, it seems like after every down there’s an up, and after every up there’s always a down. Life is not just one long joy ride that keeps getting better and better. There are mountains and valleys, and Elijah had just climbed the Mt. Everest of his prophetic life. And when we have great times of accomplishment and joy in life, we should learn to anticipate the inevitable lows that will occur, like the one that hit Elijah. But depression is not a “pit.” Think of it more like a “tunnel,” because as soon as we enter depression, we’re already on the way out.

Unfortunately, we make ourselves especially susceptible to depression when we take our eyes off God. Remember when Elijah heard Jezebel's threat? What’d he do? He ran. In fear. He took his eyes off God, took one look at Jezebel and literally ran right into the pits of despair. But why? Hadn’t Elijah just sat ring-side and observed one of the greatest victories in his life? Yes, but when Jezebel promised to end his 24 hours later, Elijah forgot all about God’s victory. He took his eyes off the power of God and focused, instead, on Jezebel and her henchmen. Result? Despair. So, when life's inevitable problems approach, keep your eyes on God. If you don’t, you open the door of your heart and mind to depression which will pull up a chair and make itself at home. Instead, dwell on God's greatness and remember all the ways that he has been faithful to you. Keep a journal, if that helps.

Depression, however, is not just mental; physical stress can cause emotional distress, too. Just prior to the onset of his depression, Elijah had put his body through incredible physical stress: he’d run over 100 miles without stopping, was physically exhausted and, prior to his quintuple marathon, had put in a full day of exhausting ministry on top of Mt. Carmel only to run another 17 miles ahead of the King’s chariot to beat the raindrops. So his depression was almost inevitable because physical stress can negatively affect our emotional health. And sometimes the most practical thing some of us can do when dealing with depression is to stop running ourselves into the ground. There's an old Greek proverb that says, "You will break the bow if you always keep it bent." In other words, if you're living under constant, relentless physical stress you will eventually break under the pressure.

We’re also more susceptible to depression when we’re alone. Remember, Elijah went off by himself and sat under that juniper tree wanting to die, feeling like he was the only one left – that he was all alone fighting for God. When we get depressed and discouraged, the first thing we tend to do is get alone by ourselves. Loneliness, however, is one of the greatest contributors to depression. When we draw into a shell and cut ourselves off from others we naturally begin to feast on self-pity. But God didn't design us to live like hermits.

God built us in such a way that life works best for us when we live in friendship and fellowship and community with others. That's why the church, the body of Christ, is so important, because that’s where we’re drawn together in love and mutual encouragement. We're meant to be a part of each other’s lives.

Elijah’s experience also demonstrates that when it comes to depression, doing affects feeling. Sitting alone under a tree with nothing to do but focusing on his own problems simply made Elijah's despair even worse. So God got him out from under the tree, away from the pity party and put him to work. God told Elijah that he had a job to do, i.e., two (2) kings needed crowning, and he had his prophetic successor, Elisha, to appoint. So when depression attacks, don’t go off somewhere by yourself and dwell on it. Instead, get your body moving because physical activity can be like good medicine for your emotions since our emotions can be rebellious at times; they don’t always take orders. They can easily ignore commands such as "Stop being angry," or "Don't feel sad," or "Be happy." It’s difficult to control our emotions, but we can control our bodies and forcing our bodies to do something that needs doing can have the effect of making us feel better.

Martin Luther advised people with mild bouts of depression to ignore the heaviness. "A good way to exorcize the Devil," Luther maintained, "was to harness the horses and spread manure on the fields." In other words, get to work. Do something productive and you’ll feel productive. Doing affects feeling. God reminded Elijah to focus on the needs of others since there was an entire nation that needed his ministry. And that’s what Philippians 2:4 means when it encourages us to, ".... look not only to our own interests (needs) but also to the interests of others." We must have an underlying agreement with each other, and with ourselves, that the people who enter our lives don't have to have it all together in order to gain our acceptance.

In a very real sense, every church is a hospital: a place where the hurting and injured can come to find healing. It's a place where people can honestly admit their struggles and find rest for themselves. Jesus said, "Come unto me all you who labor and are heavy ladened and I will give you rest." (Matt. 11:28) So, we should take seriously Paul's injunction when he says to "encourage the fainthearted, help the weak and be patient with all men." (1 Thess. 5:14) David, in speaking about God, said that God would “…lift them out of the pits of despair … out of the mud and mire, and set their feet on the rock.” (Psalm 40:2) We need to remind ourselves of that truth and share it with a hopeless world because who knows? It might just save a trip to the doctor.

Grace,

Randy

Hermeneutics

 

Hermeneutics

Hermeneutics - Audio/Visual 

Then Jesus left Galilee and went north to the region of Tyre and Sidon. A Gentile woman who lived there came to him, pleading, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David! For my daughter is possessed by a demon that torments her severely.” But Jesus gave her no reply, not even a word. Then his disciples urged him to send her away. “Tell her to go away,” they said. “She is bothering us with all her begging.” Then Jesus said to the woman, “I was sent only to help God’s lost sheep — the people of Israel.” But she came and worshiped him, pleading again, “Lord, help me!” Jesus responded, “It isn’t right to take food from the children and throw it to the dogs.” She replied, “That’s true, Lord, but even dogs are allowed to eat the scraps that fall beneath their masters’ table.” “Dear woman,” Jesus said to her, “your faith is great. Your request is granted.” And her daughter was instantly healed. (Matthew 15:21-28)

Hermeneutics – it’s hard enough to spell, much less define – but, simply stated, is a method of interpreting the Scriptures. The best, and the worst interpretations of this particular text, in my opinion, were both provided by a woman. The first – and the worst – is found in a book entitled, Feminist Interpretation of the Bible and reads as follows:

The Canaanite is an aggressive single parent who here defies cultural taboos and acts to free Jesus from his sexism and racism by catching him in a bad mood or with his compassion down, besting him in an argument and herself becoming the vehicle of his liberation and the deliverance of her daughter.

This feminist interpretation makes the Canaanite woman the “savior,” who rescues Jesus from his “ism’s” – take your pick. But the best interpretation of Jesus’ words comes from the Canaanite woman herself. She, more than any other (the Pharisees, the crowds, even the disciples), seems to get what Jesus is saying. The scribes and Pharisees may have been scholars of sorts, but they certainly didn’t understand Jesus. This woman did, however, and she alone is commended for her faith.

We are told that this woman had heard about Jesus. But what had she heard? Luke tells us that there were disciples in Tyre and Sidon, and that vast multitudes had come to hear Jesus and to be healed of their diseases, including unclean spirits. (Luke 6:17-19) So, maybe that’s what the woman had heard. There’s only one problem though: she’s a Canaanite, a descendant from a city that God had told the Israelites long ago to utterly destroy. (Deut. 20:16-18) In that day it was one thing to be a Gentile, but quite another to be a Canaanite – much less a woman. In the eyes of any respectable Jew, this was about as low as one could go, but the woman was desperate because her daughter was demon possessed and Jesus was her only hope. And so when she saw him she persisted in crying out, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David! My daughter is possessed by a demon.” (verse 22)

This woman was unfazed by the scowling disapproval of the disciples and their pressing Jesus to be rid of her – which doesn’t paint the disciples in a particularly favorable light. They found this woman’s persistence irritating and distracting so they reverted to their shop-worn solution, “Tell her to go away!” (verse 23) This was the same kind of “advice” that the disciples used to encourage Jesus to send the hungry crowds away in Matthew 14:15. Compassion – obviously – was not their strong suit that day.

I wonder what contributed to the disciples’ indifference, even their disdain toward this woman? Was it due to the fact that she was a Canaanite? We know that the disciples weren’t exactly filled with the milk of human kindness toward Samaritans. (Luke 9:51-55) Or, perhaps, was it the fact that this Canaanite was a woman? No one knows for sure, but they were shocked that Jesus was found speaking with her. Note that not one of the disciples said to the woman, “What do you want?” or to Jesus, “Why are you speaking with her?” The disciples simply pressed Jesus to get rid of her. But Jesus’ silence, followed by his words later, made it plain that his disciples had it all wrong.

Some people suggest that Jesus was wrong here, too, like the feminist’s view of this text. But was he? Well, we probably shouldn’t judge Jesus by the process but rather by the product of the process because look at its outcome: “Then Jesus answered her, ‘Dear woman, your faith is great. Your request is granted.’ And her daughter was instantly healed.” (Matt. 15:28) So what is it that troubles us about Jesus’ words and actions? Are we bothered by his silence? Perhaps, but if that’s true how often in the Psalms does the psalmist ask God how long will he remain silent? Rather, Jesus’ silence did several things. First, he had no obligation to respond; the woman had no basis upon which to appeal to Jesus, except to cling to his mercy. So, to her, Jesus’ silence was actually a source of encouragement which resulted in worship. Remember, the disciples are pressing Jesus to get rid of her. Thus, when Jesus kept silent he was refusing to give into the disciples’ request and, to this woman, Jesus’ silence was golden – since a command from him to leave would have altogether ended her hope for mercy.

Or, what about Jesus’ seemingly harsh words to this Canaanite woman regarding Jews, Gentiles and dogs, no less? Well, Jesus’ conversation with another woman, this time at a well, sheds a little light on that question. In John 4:19-26, Jesus explains to the Samaritan woman (who, by the way, also came to faith) that in order for her to come to faith she needed to understand that her religion would not save her. The short version was, “salvation is from the Jews.” (John 4:22) And just as the scribes and Pharisees had to renounce their distorted version of the Jewish religion, the Samaritans had to reject their “faith” and trust only in Jesus, the Jewish Messiah. Thus, the same held true for the Canaanite woman. It had to be clear to her that Jesus came to Israel first, then to the Gentiles and that his words to her were the truth – the truth necessary for her salvation. They were no harsher than the words of John the Baptist to the Jews when he spoke of the coming judgment of God on (Jewish) sinners.

So, did Jesus humiliate this woman by comparing her to “dogs”? No, because she, like us, needed to be humbled if she was to come to God for mercy. What Jesus says to this woman is what the gospel says to every sinner: “You’re not worthy to be in God’s presence. Confess that you are a sinner, worthy only of his eternal wrath, and call upon him for mercy and grace.” Frankly, the gospel is not meant to flatter, but to save us from our sins and the penalty of eternal wrath. The things Jesus said (and didn’t say) to this woman resulted in one of the greatest declarations of faith in the New Testament. Why, then, do we seek to second guess Jesus in his dealings with this Canaanite woman?

Having said that, let’s focus on the woman’s hermeneutics – her method of interpreting Jesus’ words and actions – which led to her response of faith. Unlike the feminists of our day, this woman was not offended by Jesus. She was not seeking to correct any flaws in Jesus’ thinking. She saw herself for what she was – a woman in desperate need of help because she could not rid her daughter of the demon that tormented her. She saw Jesus for what he was – a gracious and compassionate Savior who was able (and hopefully willing) to extend mercy to her and to her daughter. I believe she, and she alone, rightly interpreted Jesus’ silence and the words that followed. He said he was sent to the lost sheep of Israel: that was his mission. She wasn’t seeking to dissuade him from fulfilling that calling; she simply persisted, pleading with Jesus to have mercy while on his way to fulfilling that very same mission.

And what seemed to be our Lord’s most inflammatory words (“It isn’t right to take food from the children and throw it to the dogs” (Matt. 15:26)) did not put her off either, as Jesus’ choice of words for “dogs” is significant. He didn’t use the term used for dogs that run wild in the streets (See, Matt. 7:6; Luke 16:21), or the term that was used negatively of men. (See, Phil. 3:2; Rev. 22:15) Instead, Jesus used a term which might be better translated, “lap dog,” because it was the word used for a household pet. And the Canaanite woman was listening carefully to Jesus, even to his choice of words. She’s thinking, “Did he just refer to me as a ‘lap dog,’ like a ‘pet’? Great!” And she seized on that word and made it the very basis for her appeal. It was as though she’d said, “Did you say it would be wrong to take bread away from the children and feed it to the dogs? But you said these dogs were pets. They don’t run wild in the street; they sit at their master’s feet. And if their master is at the dinner table, they’re probably under the table near his feet and, you know, uhhhh….. crumbs might fall from the table and the pet dog will eat them. And hey, who knows? Maybe the master might even throw the dog a scrap every once in awhile. So, if I’m a ‘lap dog,’ or your pet, then simply give me a scrap of bread; that’s all I’m asking.”

Far from being offended by Jesus, she was inspired by him to ask for what she desired. And how she must have delighted in Jesus’ response to her request. Jesus commended her faith in a way that no Jew had ever been commended, much less a Canaanite Gentile woman. Only the Gentile centurion, a male Roman citizen, was commended in a similar way. (Matt. 8:10-12) And she, like the centurion, trusted Jesus to heal her loved one from “long distance.” Taking Jesus at his word, she returned home to find that her daughter had been delivered from her tormentor.

So, was this Canaanite woman that “aggressive single mom who defied cultural taboos to free Jesus from his sexism and racism by catching him in a bad mood”? You be the judge. And then did she “best him in an argument and herself become the vehicle of Jesus’ liberation and the deliverance of her daughter”? I guess it depends upon your hermeneutics, but I think the better interpretation is that she had a good understanding of her condition and that, only by God’s mercy, could she be heard, and only by his grace could her daughter be healed.

It may be a matter of interpretation, of course, but given Jesus’ concluding statements to this woman I think she got an “A” in hermeneutics. Class dismissed.

Grace,

Randy