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Showing posts with label Luke 8:40-56. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Luke 8:40-56. Show all posts

Monday, January 30, 2017

The Compassion of God (Luke 8:40-56


Sunday, January 29, 2017

A leader of the synagogue; that’s how Luke introduces us, his readers, to this man Jairus, who approaches Jesus.  Following Luke’s telling of the story of Jesus, we know that in chapter 1, Mary was told she was to be the mother of Jesus.  In response, she broke into a song inspired by a woman of the Old Testament, Hannah, the mother of the prophet Samuel.  In her song praising God, Mary sings, “[God] has brought the powerful down from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things and the sent the rich away empty,” (1:52-53).
Following Luke’s story further, we come to chapter 6 where Jesus says, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God; … woe to you who are rich, for you have [already] received your consolation” (6:21, 24).  Luke has told of Jesus engaged in public debate with the Bible experts, the Pharisees.  They accused Jesus of doing things only God can do – forgive sins.  And Jesus did not deny it or distance himself.  He continued forgiving sins and butting heads with them.  Luke showed Jesus doing what only God can do – driving demons out; 1000 demons in one man, and they were powerless before Jesus (8:31).  Jesus rebuked a storm that raged over the Sea of Galilee, threatening the disciples with death.  The wind stopped and waves fell to a silent calm at his word. 
As simple as it might sound the conflicts in the life of Jesus – with nature, with the demonic, with earthly power structures – all these conflicts are manifestations of the battle between God’s good and malevolent forces of evil that try to oppose God by hurting us.  In Ephesians 6 we read, “Our struggle is not against enemies of flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, [and] against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (6:12).  What does that mean?
It means there is more going on that meets the eye.  In your life, in mine, the course of history of nations, more is happening than is reported in the news and recorded in the history book.  It means there is a battle taking place we can only understand through faith.  To be on the winning side in that battle, to avoid being utterly consumed by Satan’s evil and death’s final end, we have to know God, worship God, love God, and follow God.  To know, worship, love and follow God, we need Jesus. 
What does this spiritual battle look like?  It looks like an angel telling a young, betrothed virgin she will be the mother of Jesus.  It looks like a storm that threatens lives to obediently cease at God’s command.  It looks like those who suffer being helped to their feet, fed a warm meal, loved, and empowered to live blessed lives in the love of God and the community.  And the battle against the cosmic powers of this present darkness sometimes looks like what we read last week and today in Luke 8.
 It begins with the leader, a person with some measure of power, coming to Jesus.  His power, his position, his authority has been reduced to nothing by an incurable, fatal disease that threatens to take his daughter from him.  Forget all the run-ins Jesus and authorities have had up to now in Luke.  Jairus doesn’t care.  Pain and fear have given him singular focus.  Only one thing matters: saving his girl. 
Jairus comes to Jesus and falls at his feet.  Everyone in the community knows who Jairus is.  Everyone knows his position.  Everyone knows the running controversy – Jesus or the Pharisees?  Whom do we trust?  Who do we follow?  Now here is the main man at the synagogue, the local house of worship.  Here is a man they’ve afforded much respect.  Here he is groveling.  I guess we know where he stands.
But Jairus doesn’t care.  He doesn’t see them watching him.  He only sees Jesus and he sees Jesus through fear-tinted lenses.  And that’s how we must see him.  We must see Jesus as our only hope. 
Word association!  I am going to say a word.  When I say this word, I want you think of a person, a person in the real world – not a fictional character.  When I speak this word, capture in your mind’s eye an image of this person.  Oh, also it has to be someone living.  Not someone from history.  Not someone from the Bible.  Not God or Jesus.  Think of someone today.  See that person.  Concentrate on that image.  Think about that person.  Are you ready?  I will say the word and you fix in your thought the image of the first person that comes to you mind.  Here’s word:  Power.
OK, do you have the image of a person in mind?  Think about that person that jumped to your mind when I said the word ‘power.’  Why this person?  Is this person physically imposing?  Does he or she possess tremendous riches, able to buy any and everything?  Is he or she the CEO of an enormous company?  Or a top military leader?  Or someone with political clout?  Center in on the person who to you embodies power.  
Whomever jumped to your mind is likely someone very aware of the power he or she possesses.  This person undoubtedly feels powerful and self-reliant.  Thus, this person will have trouble acknowledging he or she needs anything, including God.  I think this is why Luke so frequently highlights the idea that those exalted in human institutions, the power-hoarders among us, will be brought low.  They cannot be overcomers in that battle with cosmic evil until they truly understand their own powerlessness in the face of Satan and death.  Only when someone knows he is completely lost and broken can he then rely on God for salvation.  It is hard for power possessors to see their own weakness and dependence.  That’s why it is so hard for the rich to be saved.  They don’t realize they need.
Jairus did.  I don’t believe God inflicted his daughter with a deadly disease.  In ancient times a lot of people died of incurable ailments, including children.  With all the advances in medical science, today, a lot of people still die of diseases, even rich people.  I don’t think God imposes heart failure or cancer or diabetes.  Those evils aren’t from God.  But, I do think God speaks in those moments.  When Jairus the synagogue leader saw his daughter dying before his eyes, he was broken, dropped to his knees.  He was ready to be dependent on God. 
Jesus went with him.  Without a word, Jairus came, asked for help, and Jesus went.  Jesus never brought up the conflicts with leaders.  He didn’t refer to his past accomplishments or use the opportunity to pontificate his own virtue.  I find it significant that Luke doesn’t record a verbal response from Jesus at all.  The next phrase Luke writes ending verse 42 is “as he went.”  God is always as ready to help and to save the wealthy as He is to help and save the poor.  God does not love downtrodden people more than wealthy people.  But it looks that way because those who are down and out are more ready to receive God’s love because they are more aware of their desperate situation.  God loves everyone abundantly.  We miss the good God gives when we are caught up in ourselves.
As Jesus went with Jairus, a woman who had suffered for 12 years came behind him in the crowd.  She had a perpetual menstrual bleeding.  Upon surreptitiously touching Jesus, she was instantly healed.  Her utter poverty and desperation, her unending suffering gave her clear vision.  She could see that God was in Jesus.  She knew He was her only hope.
For Jesus’ part, it was not enough to heal her.  He also had to name her.  He had to look into her eyes.  This is where we ended in this story last week.  A desperate woman is healed as Jesus walks along.  He didn’t even need to stop walking or even be aware of what was happening.  Like a skilled pickpocket, she stole the blessing.  But we cannot steal from God.  He stopped to give a greater blessing.  He called her out.  Trembling, she came.  He named her.  “Daughter, your faith has made you well.”  Is that was faith is, desperation?  Sometimes.  He sent her away in peace.
And there is desperate Jairus, just waiting.  Has he waited too long?  Luke writes, “Someone came from the leader’s house to say, ‘Your daughter is dead; do not trouble the teacher any longer’” (8:49).  That messenger was stuck in the way the world, a world fallen in sin, operates.  We think that when the doctor says, “It’s over,” then it is over.  We accept the limits imposed by human wisdom.  Jesus plays a different game, one in which God sets the limits and exceeds them when God so pleases.
Jesus doesn’t mind that Jairus’ anxiety grows as he stopped to help a woman.  For Jesus nothing mattered more than restoring her life.  For God nothing matters more than a broken person coming for healing, for forgiveness, for hope.  However, Jesus won’t let this messenger’s word of finality crush Jairus’ spirit.  How many times do we surrender to inevitability when we could look to God and to the possibility that God might write an entirely different chapter in our stories?  A better chapter?  A more hopeful one?
Jesus says the words he and angel say throughout scripture to people who are overwhelmed when they meet God.  “Fear not.”  Jairus burned with anxiety when Jesus stopped and gave way to despair when he got the message he’d been dreading, but Jesus will not let that sit for even a minute.  “Do not fear. Only believe and she will be saved” (8:50). 
They arrive at the house and the professional mourners have already begun their dirges.  This sorrow has be done properly.  It’s not just anyone who has died, but the daughter of the synagogue leader.  And underneath the breath of those weeping their showy tears are the whispers.  What sin did Jairus commit that God would punish him by taking his daughter?  No one’s saying it.  Everyone’s thinking it.  Actual compassion is in short supply.
Jesus quiets the nonsense.  “Do not weep for her; for she is not dead but sleeping” (v.52).  The mourners in the story laugh a mocking laugh at Jesus, and in fact, the girl was dead in the sense that her heart had stopped, she wasn’t breathing, and disease had ravaged her body.  But I believe Luke has in mind several layers of meaning at this point.
Sleep and death are an odd dynamic in the New Testament.  Jesus says she is not dead, but is only sleeping.  She was actually, in a physical sense, dead.  In 1 Thessalonians 5, the word “asleep” is a euphemism for Christ followers who have died. They have resurrection to look forward to.  I think Luke embeds the same idea in his storytelling here.  His gospel would have been completed and first read in churches in the 80’s.  Many Christ followers had died.  His framing of this story reminds believers that the ultimate enemy, death, is no match for the power and the love of God.  It is as simple as Jesus walking in and saying, “Child, get up” (12:54).
Luke writes that her spirit returned to her.  It had departed but now came back.  That can happen when Jesus speaks because Jesus is God in the flesh.  And God is uninterested in the victories death claims.  God is a God of the living.  “Child, get up.”  And she gets up and her parents feed her because Jesus tells them to do so. 
The confused crowd had cried fake tears and laughed a mocking laugh.  Now they stood mouths agape.  Crowds want a show from Jesus, but he’s no showman.  When the power of God is on full display, it leave us in awe and afraid.  We are profoundly aware of how powerless we are and how unworthy we are.  The same crowds that clamored to see more and more miracle later on in the story clamor to see Jesus nailed to a cross.  Too much God overwhelms us and we need to maintain control.  In a sense, that’s what the crucifixion was.  Different groups – the priests, the Romans, the crowds – were all aware of how powerless they were before God but instead of bowing in grateful worship and receiving the salvation they desperately needed, they tried to pry control away from Him. 
As Jairus hugged his daughter, he was thankful he made the decision to fall at Jesus feet, acknowledge his desperation, and rely completely on God’s power.  When we come to God as Jairus did, God shows us His power through compassionate acts of salvation.  God does it in God’s own way, in God’s own time.  Sometimes there will be delays and accepting that is part of living in dependence on God.  God’s ways are higher than ours, and God’s timings is more perfect than ours. 
Saying this is not submission to fatalism.  We reach to God as both Jairus and the bleeding woman did.  We beg, we grab, we reach, we pray.  And God, in his power, reaches to us in compassionate love that never runs out.  I do wonder if Jairus continued in his role as a synagogue leader after that day Jesus healed his daughter.  If he did, he was a very different man of religion.  If the crowd couldn’t tolerate his presence and the presence of his daughter, a reminder of how far they were from God, and thus ran him off, I don’t think he minded. 
I pray that this week you will be aware of your own desperation and utter weakness before God.  When you are, then I pray you will see the power of God and it will scare you to the point of silence, mouth agape, eyes big as saucers, heart beating out of your chest, and mind totally blown.  I pray that happens to you this week.  I pray we will all see our own frailty and in our profane smallness, we will then see the holiness of God and scared out of our wits.
When that happens, fall on your face before God in complete dependence, full bodied worship, and absolute surrender.  God will pour out compassion on your until you are soaked in his love because that’s what God does.  God drenches us with blessings and makes us new.

AMEN

Monday, January 23, 2017

The God Who Stops (Luke 8:43-48)


Sunday, January 22, 2017

         
          In the sermons, we are in the midst of seeking to see and know more of God.  God is like an ice berg; all we see of God is what is above the surface of the water.  There is immeasurably more of God that is beyond our vision just as the iceberg is bigger beneath the surface.
         
          So, we have set out on a quest.  We’re on a journey into the unknown – the depths of who God is.  We are invited by God to step onto this path.  To step toward God.  God calls us to seek Him and know Him.
This morning, our quest takes a different turn.  Last week with Job, we pondered the vastness of God.  However, lest we be overwhelmed, we landed at a spot where we saw that God made each of us with intention.

We are created for relationship!  We, humans, are created with a specific purpose.  We exist to be in relationship with God.  There is more to be said about each of us as individuals.  We have each our particular tastes and talents, appetites and aptitudes.  We each have our own stories.  But the link that holds us together no matter who we are, where we are from, or what our story has been is the ‘why.’  The primary reason for your existence and for my existence is relationship with God.  Everything in our lives eventually comes to an end except that relationship.  Our eternity is lived out in terms of how we relate to God, either adopted by him as we received his salvation in this life, or eternally apart from him as we rejected him as Lord in this life.  Either way, our eternal existence is defined by our relationship or lack thereof with the Almighty God.
          This morning we will try to understand this God that calls us into relationship.  There are many kinds of relationships and not all are good ones.  In the movie Shawshank Redemption, when Andy Dufresne first arrives as an inmate at Shawshank prison in the state of Maine, Warden Norton welcomes Dufresne and the other new prisoners.  The warden says, “Your soul belongs to God; your butt belongs to me.”  There is a relationship between the warden and the prisoners.  In that relationship, the warden, through his guards, abuses the prisoners violently.  The prisoners cower before the warden. The warden gives commands.  The prisoners shine the warden’s shoes, clean his office, and do whatever else he orders.  The warden is so all-powerful that even when evidence comes to light that would exonerate Andy Dufresne, the warden steps in. Through murder and lies, he keeps an innocent man in prison so that the innocent man will continue to live as his slave. 
          God, infinitely more powerful than Warden Norton, could have that kind of relationship with us.  I sometimes hear theologians insist that in order for God to be God, God must be good.  That’s a fallacy.  God could be God and be cruel.  We would have no power to resist.  What signs are there that the relationship God created us for is a good thing – good for us?  How do we know God is good?  To get at this, over the next two weeks we are going to look at Jesus, God in human flesh.  How he relates gives us an indication of the kind of relationship God created us to be in.  By looking at Jesus, we will see how God relates to us.

          The account we’ll follow is found in Luke 8:40-56.
Luke 8:40-56
40 Now when Jesus returned, the crowd welcomed him, for they were all waiting for him. 41 Just then there came a man named Jairus, a leader of the synagogue. He fell at Jesus’ feet and begged him to come to his house, 42 for he had an only daughter, about twelve years old, who was dying.
As he went, the crowds pressed in on him. 43 Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years; and though she had spent all she had on physicians,[a] no one could cure her. 44 She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his clothes, and immediately her hemorrhage stopped. 45 Then Jesus asked, “Who touched me?” When all denied it, Peter[b] said, “Master, the crowds surround you and press in on you.” 46 But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; for I noticed that power had gone out from me.” 47 When the woman saw that she could not remain hidden, she came trembling; and falling down before him, she declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. 48 He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”
49 While he was still speaking, someone came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead; do not trouble the teacher any longer.” 50 When Jesus heard this, he replied, “Do not fear. Only believe, and she will be saved.” 51 When he came to the house, he did not allow anyone to enter with him, except Peter, John, and James, and the child’s father and mother. 52 They were all weeping and wailing for her; but he said, “Do not weep; for she is not dead but sleeping.” 53 And they laughed at him, knowing that she was dead. 54 But he took her by the hand and called out, “Child, get up!” 55 Her spirit returned, and she got up at once. Then he directed them to give her something to eat. 56 Her parents were astounded; but he ordered them to tell no one what had happened

         
          Assume that Jairus was a very important man within his community.  At this point in his telling of Jesus’ story, Luke has already shown us a lot.  Jesus had exalted the poor and downtrodden while casting foreboding clouds of judgment over the horizon of the rich and powerful.  He has clarified for John the Baptist that he – Jesus – is the one.  The evidence?  “The blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, [and] the poor have good news brought to them” (7:22).  Jesus’s next statement is “blessed are anyone who takes no offense at me.”  Then, Luke proceeds to show how those in power, even with a little power, are offended when Jesus raises up those who at the very bottom, the absolutely powerless. 
This theme never leaves in Luke.  Jesus is the one from God and on God’s side.  We know God by watching what Jesus does and hearing how Jesus speaks.  Consistently, Jesus is for the outsider, the downtrodden, the weak and the defeated.  Jesus opposes the powerful.  As a guest of a Pharisee, he commends the street woman who comes in and washes his feet with her tears and anoints his head with oil.  In doing so, he shames the host who even with his resources did not show such generosity. 
He travels outside of Jewish territory to the Garasene region where he and the disciples encounter a man who is crazed with demonic possession.  A 1000 demons have wrecked this poor soul’s life.  He is relegated to a haunted existence, living naked and wild in a graveyard.  Jesus approaches this man ritually clean Jews shun and superstitious gentile fear.  Jesus casts out the demons and gives him new life.  In the flow of these events Luke shows us how Jesus redefines life.  He tackles prejudice and fear by replacing hatred and avoidance with compassion and hope.  The dead need not stay dead.  Those in power don’t have real power – not the power of God.  Those on the outside are loved by God too.
This all leads up to the return from the country of Garasenes.  No sooner does Jesus get off the boat when the crowd welcomes him, the Pharisees fold their arms and furrow their brows, and Jairus approaches.  He probably wasn’t a Pharisee or a Sadducee.  Luke likely would have described him as such if he were either of those.  What Luke does tell us is he was a synagogue leader.  Following Luke’s narrative, we know Jesus had frequent tension with leaders.
Then the surprise.  This leader falls to the ground before Jesus and begs for a miracle.  He wants his dying daughter to be healed and believes Jesus is his only hope.  Jesus says nothing.  In fact, Luke doesn’t even say much, only the phrase “as he went.”
As Jesus and his entourage of disciples follows this distraught man rendered powerless by disease, the gawking crowd presses in.  There was paparazzi before the invention of the camera. 
A desperate woman presses into the crowd.  No one sees her because everyone is thrilled Jesus is here.  Everyone is driven to get a glimpse, maybe a touch.  In this case desperation is more powerful than drive. The woman worms her way through the crowd and steals a touch, a handful of the fringe of Jesus’ robe. 
For her sake, it is good that the crowd provides anonymity because she’s not really supposed to be in the crowd at all.  She has a blood flow that has not stopped for 12 years.  When it began, she may have been a woman of means.  Luke says she spent all she had on physicians but none could cure her (v.43).  She had money, but it was all gone.  So now, she is a bleeding woman, thus ritually unclean.  She is a social outcast.  And she is poor.  It’s a miracle she had lasted 12 years.  Somehow she’s managed to avoid starvation, but she’s been reduced to a Hell of an existence.  Hated by society, friendless, dirt poor, and in unending discomfort – that’s Hell.  And she wants to get out of Hell.  So, she sneaks through the crowd and grabs Jesus’ robe. Instantly, the blood stops.  She knows it.  She is healed.
Jesus stops in his tracks! “Who touched me?” 
Peter is flabbergasted.  “Who touched you?  People haven’t stopped touching you since we stepped off the boat.  You couldn’t even get two steps onto the shore.  Back you leeches!  Who touched you?  Everyone is touching you!  Back!”
“Peter, chill.  This is different.  I felt power go out of me.”
Now, all the while, remember a couple of things.  Jairus, a very important man whose desperation reduced him to begging is standing there waiting.  The crowds have been clawing at Jesus.  In the midst of that, Jesus stops for someone who needs him but is also afraid. 
Jesus tells Peter with the ravenous crowd listening in, “I felt the power go out of me.” It’s like when you’re listening to a speaker and the speaker into the crowd and says, “You.”  You think the speaker is just addressing the entire crowd, but then he steps toward and you realize, no, he’s talking to me specifically.  You want to turn invisible.  The reason you’re in the crowd is you don’t want to be on the stage.  You want to stay among the faces.  It’s exposing when that speaker singles you out.  There’s nowhere to hide.
The woman comes trembling before Jesus and explains the whole thing, including her healing.  He looks at this rejected, broken, poor, healed woman and says, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace” (8:48).  Yes, he healed her, but he also redefined her.  She was untouchable.  Now, she is daughter – daughter of God.  She was alone.  She is now in a family – the eternal family.  Her life was misery.  He sends her on in peace.  And when Jesus says, “Go in peace,” it is more than just a nicety.  He defines her future.  She is one with God and is blessed.
The God who strode with a very important man on the way to heal that man’s daughter as a throng pushed in on him stopped for a woman no one else cared about.  That God made it clear that in that moment, nothing was more important to him than meeting her need, healing her hurt, restoring her humanity, and elevating her life so that she left the encounter knowing she was God’s precious child.  That is what Jesus shows us about God. 
Luke drives this home a few chapters late when in 15 he compares the Father to a shepherd who leaves 99 sheep in safety to venture into the perilous wastelands to find the one lost sheep.  That God that seeks to save the lost is seeking you.  That God that stops in the midst of an important mission in order to help one forgotten and to declare her a daughter of God knows your pain.  That God sees you and stops for you, whatever you might be struggling with today. 
Some I talked with this week recommended that I add in a bit about the importance of the fact that the woman risked everything to force her way into the crowd in order to touch Jesus.  What she did is commendable and on blog this past week, I posted a couple of messages I had given in years ago about that woman who made her way to Jesus.  But this morning, our focus is on God.  We’re doing what she did.  We’re forcing our way, reaching, trying to touch God’s robe that he might bless us.
Do we want to see more of God and know God more deeply?  Know this.  The God we seek sees us – sees you.  The God we long for loves us, stops for us, and declares us, in our brokenness healed.  And in our healing he looks and calls us “Daughter; son.”  He sends us with his peace.  That’s God.  Of course there is more, but that is enough for today.
But what about that important man, the synagogue leader?  He’s numb, panic-stricken, desperate, hoping against hope that Jesus can heal his little girl.  He’s just standing there waiting while Jesus stops.  What about him?  We’ll get to him next week.

AMEN