We Were Born to Serve Him

“When a servant comes in from plowing or taking care of sheep, does his master say, ‘Come in and eat with me’? 8 No, he says, ‘Prepare my meal, put on your apron, and serve me while I eat. Then you can eat later.’” 

“And does the master thank the servant for doing what he was told to do? Of course not. 10 In the same way, when you obey me you should say, ‘We are unworthy servants who have simply done our duty.’”

Luke 17:7-10

Ater years of ministry— this particular passage has slowly become one of my favorites. The path I’ve walked has been challenging, and it seems to me that I haven’t done it very well at all. I’ve been a fool much of the time, and yet, if anything, God has held me firmly in place. I haven’t always been faithful. But He has.

ter years of ministry— this particular passage has slowly become one of my favorites. The path I’ve walked has been challenging, and it seems to me that I haven’t done it very well at all. I’ve been a fool much of the time, and yet, if anything, God has held me firmly in place. I haven’t always been faithful. But He has.

I used to kill rattlesnakes when I lived in Mexico. It demanded a certain cautiousness, and lesson #1 was this–you never, ever take your eyes off of the snake–no matter what. I think we must approach ourselves carefully. Our hearts are desperately wicked. We must understand this.

“I am more afraid of my own heart than of the pope and all his cardinals. I have within me the great pope, self.

    Martin Luther

Please let me explain what I’m thinking.

The Lord Jesus tells us one of those stories of his. This parable is one of his best. It makes a lot of sense, and it resonates. It tells me that I must watch myself, lest I forget that this passage is all about me. I’m His slave. A slave of love, grace, but also of labor.

Jesus’ parable explains our duty as His servant.

It seems that after a hard day’s work, a slave still needed to prepare his master’s dinner. No matter how much he toiled out in the fields, he had a duty to serve his master in this way; and it does seem unfair–we live in a land “where all men are created equal.”

But this is how the God’s Kingdom works.

We get dirty, we toil hard, and we sweat under the hot sun. We dream of a glass of cold lemonade (with ice), and a cool shower when we quit the fields. But that isn’t the way it works. Yes, Jesus gives his laborers rest–but the work continues.

The work goes on, even when God buries his workers. Hopefully, the next generation will continue my almost humble efforts, and his work in his fields will continue. But, in the meantime I must “watch” myself carefully, and do his will out in his fields.

“Just as a servant knows that he must first obey his master in all things, so the surrender to an implicit and unquestionable obedience must become the essential characteristic of our lives.“

Andrew Murray

Yes, it’s a foreign concept, and we can’t really relate–we either skip its message, or apply it to others. Jesus uses it quite adroitly, the servant works for his master; completely, exclusively. A slave who has no rights of his own.

We serve and obey our Master.

“Any desire for promotion, pleasure, riches, or fame will quickly make one a servant of the Beast. And, I’m afraid, that is exactly what many of today’s pastors and preachers have become.“

    Chuck Baldwin

I’m Under Command

 When Jesus had entered Capernaum, a centurion came to him, asking for help. 6 “Lord,” he said, “my servant lies at home paralyzed, suffering terribly.”

7 Jesus said to him, “Shall I come and heal him?”

8 The centurion replied, “Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed. 9 For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”

13 Then Jesus said to the centurion, “Go! Let it be done just as you believed it would.” And his servant was healed at that moment.

Matthew 8:5-9, 13; (see Luke 7:2-10)

Our obedience was how we survived. I understand authority and submission to my superior officers. It’s known as “the chain of command” and it’s the reason why my century survived in a hostile place. I blended my will to my superior, and I knew he was also under authority to his own superior.

It wasn’t easy duty as a Roman soldier among the Jews. We were hated everywhere we went.

But my servant was paralyzed, and I knew that he was suffering greatly, but I had run out of options. My servant was the only family I was allowed to have. Since I served as a centurion I was not allowed to have a wife for the duration of my service. Over the years I’ve kept close and trustworthy servants with me–these men were very dear to me. They were my family.

I certainly was aware that we lived in constant danger from radical Jews, especially the Zealots. They had already assassinated some of my men.

I had exhausted all efforts to bring some relief and healing to my servant–he seemed to be getting worse, not better. I had information that there was an itinerant teacher who had a reputation as a healer of diseases. This man, Jesus from Nazareth, had a large following and I realized that He was now my only possible solution.

So I went to Him for help.

He wanted to return with me to my home. His willingness to come encouraged me, but I simply couldn’t allow that. Jesus’ visit would’ve made Him ceremonially unclean–I was a Gentile, a “dog.” And also bringing Him to my home might create an issue among my men.

I understood that my home was officially off-limits to Him.

But yet I did understand something. I was under authority as a centurion in the Roman army, and my men followed my orders. Obedience meant survival in a very angry and hostile environment like Judea. Our entire unit was constantly drilled in this, and each man understood the need for following authority. We had to obey our superiors.

So I simply asked Jesus to heal my servant, with just His word of command.

Jesus marveled at this. He said that my adherence to protocol was evidence of real faith. I think it’s funny but He made me an equal with the Israel patriarchs. My faith was now to be emulated by the Jews. How odd.

As a Roman centurion I knew I deserved nothing. Simply, Jesus spoke a command and when I returned home my servant was healed. I came and found him completely healthy.

“As the authority of the Caesars flowed through his own yielded life, so the authority of God over diseases, demons, and all else would flow through Christ’s.”

F.B. Meyer

“Christ will always accept the faith that puts its trust in Him.”

    Andrew Murray

Washing Between the Toes

drsunil.com, art by Takla

John 13:6-8 (verses 3-17)

Chapter 13 always rocks my world. I visualize this, like a fly on the wall, watching it happen–and then I replay it over. It always unravels me. Why does this have to happen? What does this passage tell me about Jesus and his kingdom? (John 13). Why can’t I just walk away from it, and leave it be?

Jesus made himself a slave on purpose.

Or perhaps he was always a slave all along, and we just didn’t realize it? Foot-washers were pretty much regarded as sub-human, mindless drones who mechanically performed a necessary duty. The lowest of the low, the very least of the least. Today they’re the burger flippers and the pool cleaners.

But Jesus took that role on himself, he laid aside his garments and his Godhood. (They landed in a pile in the corner of the room). When he knelt down to scrub feet (making sure he got between the toes), it was Deity serving man. This God/rabbi intentionally did this, not reluctantly or halfheartedly–but carefully. Brilliantly.

He was their teacher, and custom demanded he enjoys the prerogatives of that position. But he wouldn’t, and didn’t. He mustn’t. As I stress over this, I must conclude he really was their “teacher,” but not in the way I expect. What he was doing on his knees, was instructing them in the art of loving each other.

He showed us a real leader in action.

And isn’t making disciples all about loving (and washing) someone else more than ourselves?

We get things turned around sometimes–we think that spiritual authority is moving up when it’s all about going down. We elevate our pastors and elders, maybe subconsciously–and human nature lets it happen, and then we’re amazed why our leaders struggle so.

Leaders function best when they wash between the toes.

There was a point in Jewish history when the people actually demanded that God would give them a king, instead of a judge (1 Samuel 8:5-9). God warned them that this wasn’t in his plans–but they insisted.

They had to have one, everyone else did. We still must have celebrities, and then we wonder why they short-circuit on us. Who can resist the privilege, and the limelight of the platform?

The Church was never meant to operate like this.

That’s what Jesus said. Instead, it’s we who’ve turned it upside down. It’s we who insist on turning our pastors into minor celebrities. We assert that they take on the role of a “king” (albeit, a little one maybe). Perhaps leaders who stumble and fall do so because we want them to be front and center? Who can handle the privilege and the adulation? I know I can’t.

Peter of course, was classic Peter.

It seems that whenever he resists, he gets rebuked. He makes it quite clear that Jesus will never wash feet–that Jesus will never use a basin or towel and serve him like this. It was outrageous. Unacceptable. It didn’t fit in Peter’s personal theology. He had no room for Jesus the slave.

Jesus still washes His people. He has not changed.

He sits us down and takes off our shoes and socks, and scrubs us clean. And we hate it. But to be washed by him is a condition of our discipleship. Every follower must be clean, and he continues his work to this day. We sin daily, even as his own, and he cleans us up–and somehow that really bothers us.

The gifts of leadership are one way of washing feet.

At least that’s what our leaders were designed to do. That’s Jesus’ way of doing things. But it seems we’ve adopted Peter’s attitude, and embraced the ‘pre-king’ thinking of Israel. We need our celebrities, we want our kings. We simply can’t imagine it any other way.

“The very first thing which needs to be said about Christian ministers of all kinds is that they are “under” people as their servants rather than “over” them. Jesus made this absolutely plain. The chief characteristic of Christian leaders, he insisted, is humility not authority, and gentleness not power.”

 John Stott

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Her Weak Eyes

Stuck in the wonders of scripture we read about Leah and her sister Rachel. We see the two daughters of Laban have become Jacob’s wives. We must step into Genesis 29 to see more.

Jacob longs for Rachel. She is his “soul mate” and because he’s in love, the customs and technicalities of the day somehow get by him. Because of this, he will have to take on Laban’s subtle trickery, where daughters get exchanged, and we must sort out who is who.

Laban’s deception creates a huge crisis for everyone. 

But it seems Jacob just rolls with it. I suppose deception has always been Jacob’s strong suit. (But when we see a deceiver like Jacob gets deceived, that can’t be all bad).

But it’s Leah that I tend to think about. Her own issues are unique. Genesis 29 explains it a bit cryptically,

“Leah’s eyes were weak, but Rachel was beautiful in form and appearance.” 

Genesis 29:17

You must know that there is confusion by commentators about the “weak eyes.” Some take it literally (as in, she is very “near-sighted,”) while others who look at the original Hebrew find the words to be a bit looser and vague. They tend to think that this is a polite way of saying she really wasn’t pretty.

The text also states that Leah was “hated.”

Genesis 29:30-31.

She is wounded, and life requires that she live as unwanted. She is a woman of tragedy and broken hopes and dreams. She will always live as a reject. At best, she will always be a distant second, and always a bit scorned and neglected for this.

I must conclude that Leah is the champion for the challenged.

I love Leah and I think I understand her. Her life is a long tragedy and very full of sadness. For the next 30-40 years she will always be a cast-off, someone who has been broken on life’s bitter vagaries. She’s a fellow struggler, and a survivor.

Her sad life is comparable to us who have to fight so hard over our own illness or handicaps.

She must’ve been challenged by her terrible weakness. I understand this. My own life has been “topsy-turvy” and a really hard struggle. Somehow it seems we must work through these things way too much.

It doesn’t seem fair. 

For those of you who are confined to a wheelchair, or must use a cane, or who deal with a physical or mental illness. Leah should be our hero. For those who have been betrayed by addiction, or who have felt rejected through a bitter divorce– Leah speaks to us.

She is for every loser and for failures of all stripes. But through all of our setbacks and messes, we must realize that God does love us– even as we weep.

We may have Leah’s eyes, but we can also have His grace.

Psalm 139:14

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Learning How to Dance

Do the Dance-- For Him

“And David was dancing before the Lord with all his might, and David was wearing a linen ephod.”

2 Samuel 6:13-15

“The most valuable thing the Psalms do for me is to express the same delight in God which made David dance.”

     C.S. Lewis

It seems I’m the world’s worst and the clumsiest of all.  And since my brain surgery, it has gotten even worse. I fall several times every month.  I need to use a cane now.  (And if you look up “klutz” in the dictionary you’ll see my picture, lol.) 😃

When I start to dance, you had better head for higher ground! 

Even so, I do love the idea of dancing, but I’m like Bozo, the circus clown, only wearing roller skates!  I lurch from side-to-side and I’m always on the verge of falling on someone’s lap, which is a real hoot!

But there is just one dance that I am waiting for.

It’s the dance I’ll have with my Savior.  There will be a day, in a place and time where He will call me home and He himself will teach me how to dance.  I know it’ll be incredible, and it’s a day that I anticipate, and honestly, I hope it comes soon. (He’s finally going to heal me!)

But to really dance you must first liberate your heart. 

You must cancel out all self-consciousness.  If you are self-aware, you will never enter into the joy and wonder of the true dance.  You will be a perpetual wallflower, living only on the edges.  And, you will be very sad.

It seems you must dance in your heart before you can ever dance with your feet.

I desperately would like to dance. And when I see Him clearly on that day, I’ll have no cane to slow me down. I will be as graceful, and to be perfectly honest, I won’t be watching you, (I’m sorry). I will see only Jesus. And I believe that my heart will beat for Him exclusively.

I belong to Him. He forgave all my sin and has given me eternal life. Knowing this fills me with such joy that my feet won’t stand still. He redeems me, and is this not a cause for a dance, or two, or maybe three? Maybe eternity will be filled with more joy than we ever dreamed possible?

Some of you have been damaged–mashed up in the grinding gears of life’s hard issues. It’s hard to dance. I understand. But I also know that your life can be astonishingly full of grace– you have endured so much, and yet Jesus intends to occupy your thoughts and vision with real hope.

As His disciple, you’ll discover your special dance. And when you finally see Him, your heart will finally be free to spin and twirl.

He is the reason we can dance. He is the Lord of the dance.

“Young women and young men, together with the elderly, will celebrate and dance because I will comfort them and turn their sorrow into happiness.”

Jeremiah 31:13

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You’re a Steward of Your Pain

Some time ago I came across a story that connected. It seems a visiting speaker came and stood in front of a congregation. He shared a painful incident from his childhood. He wanted to bring healing to others. After he spoke, an elder came and spoke to him–

“You have learned how to become a proper steward of your pain.”

The visiting speaker was profoundly touched by this. Finally, something came together in his heart and soul. Yes, he did learn how to deal scripturally with those ugly things from his past. He was becoming a proper steward of his pain.

The word for steward in the original Greek is oikonomos. It literally means “a keeper of a home.” It describes a manager, a superintendent to whom the head of the house or proprietor has entrusted the management of his affairs, the diligent care of receipts and expenditures.

The issue seems to be of management, how can God use these awful things for building His Kingdom?

No question about it, we live in a world of darkness. Each of us has been touched by hard things. Scars are part of our lives. When we come to Christ they come with us. All of these grim things are a real piece of us, we have been hurt (or maybe we’ve wounded others?)

Are you a good steward of who you are? Whether you’ve experienced trauma–something physical, sexual, or perhaps a mental illness. It could be any scar you carry from your past, and no one is immune from them it seems. You’ll find freedom if you can use these things for Him and his Kingdom.

We must see and understand that Jesus has taken everything and redeems it all for His glory.

He understands us fully–our past, present, and future. He ‘knows’ us–the real and hidden us. The challenge I suppose is to take these sad events to the throne. He alone can heal and then use that which has devastated us. What was intended to destroy is now meant to build.

Satan has afflicted you in his dark attempt to destroy you.

Jesus intervenes to save. As we grow to accept this, the Holy Spirit comes as our comforter and guide. He starts to teach us true redemption, and the incredible healing that he brings with him. It really is his work, not ours. We finally understand. It’s then we become broken healers that God can use.

His light has truly overcome our dark.

We’re being taught (sometimes very slowly) to carry all of these things and plead the blood of Jesus over our past. He covers us completely. He has redeemed us. Luke 1:68 explains much clearer than I can:

“Blessed is the Lord, the God of Israel because he has visited and provided redemption for his people.”

Becoming a steward of our pain is his doing. We’re able to touch others with these things that would cripple and destroy others. He has made us “managers” of these things, and we are taught to teach others, declaring that God has completely saved us. He works miracles!

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!”

2 Corinthians 5:17

We’ll sovereignly meet those who need to hear our story. We’re being transformed into authentic witnesses. Yes, at times these awful things still hurt, and I suppose that’s to be expected. But we’re learning to manage them. We’ve become real-life stewards of our pain.

“That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.”

Romans 8:28

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Finding the Feet of Jesus

A terrific study is finding the people who fell at Jesus’ feet. Tucked in the Gospels you’ll find stories of those who despair. You’ll also see them come to Jesus in brokenness and humility, without any other recourse. I call these the “people of the feet.”

They came to Jesus because they had no hope otherwise. They were people who were hopeless and wretched, they had long ago run out of options. They came to Jesus, falling down in front of Him. They were all people of the feet.

They were men and women who were truly desperate.

There are some common characteristics that feet-finders have:

  • A great need that can’t be met without His touch
  • To understand one’s true condition–humility, brokenness
  • To beg for a healing, for self or family
  • To honor Jesus as the Messiah
  • To be more receptive to His teaching, to understand Him
  • To become a witness to others (although it does seem secondary)

“But immediately a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit heard of him and came and fell down at his feet.“

Mark 7:25

“Then people went out to see what had happened, and they came to Jesus and found the man from whom the demons had gone, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind.”

Luke 8:35

But there are several other instances where people came to sit at Jesus’ feet:

  • Mark 5:22-23, Jairus, a leader in the local synagogue
  • Luke 7:37-38, a sorrowing mother for her daughter
  • Luke 8:41, also Jairus
  • Luke 10:39, Mary, when Jesus was teaching
  • John 11:32, Mary, meeting Jesus entering Bethany
  • John 12:3, Mary, with her perfume
  • Revelation 1:17, John to express what he was seeing (also 19:10)

In every case we find people consciously coming and kneeling at the feet of the Lord Jesus. It was a deliberate action that came from their hearts. Each had a terrible need, and each was without hope.

It’s the end of religion if you’re a feet-finder. No more facades, no more treadmills. Instead your heart forever changes.

Hardly decent to religious people.

Are you really that desperate yet? Have you seen your need, and do you realize how lost you would be without His healing touch?

I’m convinced only Jesus can make me clean and whole.

But I found my rightful place at His feet. It’s where I belong. I love Him.

I’m not ashamed to be found kneeling.

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The Parable of the Unmerciful

God is generous. We owe him an outrageous kind of debt. But what happens when we refuse to forgive another person? Jesus now teaches what happens–it’s frightening.

Matthew 18:22-34

God is generous. All that he does is grace. It’s also grace when we really meet another. He loves us, and we need to siphon that love to everyone we meet. When we come before the Lord, we don’t get the justice we deserve. He has forgiven us—the ten thousand ones.

God is generous. We owe him an outrageous kind of debt. Commentators list the modern value of 10,000 talents would be $1 billion USD. Granted this is figurative, but that doesn’t mean it’s untrue. Grace is God’s extravagant for scandalous sinners.

That is an insane amount of money. To settle our debt would far, far more than we can repay; but isn’t that the point. God’s grace on us, is a precious thing.

When he gets off his knees, we realize that he really hasn’t changed by grace. His heart is teflon, and the mercy the father gave him doesn’t stick. His heart hasn’t really grasped his lesson in forgiveness. God forgave, the servant didn’t understand. His treatment of another proclaims this.

The parable directly speaks of grace, and ungrace.

The $10,000 guy meets the $100 talent guy and we see our own inability to forgive. We shake down our brother and sister for just small things. Notice verse 28, the text tells us that he actually assaulted him, “he started to choke him.” How bizarre and how disturbing. And yet, God sees, and responds.

Was the $10,000 guy really forgiven? Did he understand the spiritual transaction of what just happened? I don’t think so—and it scares me.

The other servants have seen the issue.

The key word is “distressed,” or lypeō in Greek, the word means “to throw into sorrow, to grieve or offend., to make heavy.” All that the forgiven servant did, was recognizable by others, and they reported what they saw to the master.

His behavior is clearly meant to disturbs us.

He’s called “wicked” in verse 32. What he did was awful, and again he’s brought in. Because of his mistreatment of the other who owed, he was now thrown into prison, owing a billion bucks. He gets what he now deserves. He gets justice instead of mercy. He is turned over the torturers.

Matthew 6:15

What does all of this mean?

I’m pretty sure that God isn’t hammering us over our unforgiveness of others. I suspect it’s our sin that does that. When we consider our sin, how can we understand others who sin against us? We have been forgiven much (very much!) how can we not forgive others for sinning against us?

J. Meyer

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Anavah, (or Humility)

       Charles Spurgeon

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;
    my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
    too great and too marvelous for me.
2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
    like a weaned child with its mother;
    like a weaned child is my soul within me.

Psalm 131:1-2, ESV

To be humble [Hebrew, anavah] means that we recognize our boundaries. We will not advance by stepping beyond what God has ordained for us. We learn to be content with the present. Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less. It puts others first.

In Psalm 131 we begin the walk into “anavah.” We’re brought by God into a place where we understand who we really are. Our lives are not characterized by self-promotion, but rather serving God and advancing others before ourselves.

The image is one of being a weaned child resting on a mother’s chest. We have no agenda, there is nothing that we must do, but just relax on Him.

Seeing a weaned baby is one who no longer needs its mother’s milk. There’s no fussing or grasping for nourishment, rather he’s simply content to rest in his mother’s warm embrace.

To practice true humility, or the Hebrew word “anavah,” it is to renounce ambition in all its insidious forms. As Jesus’ disciples we follow Him with our cross. That cross puts the end of our old life. And we die daily. And it is obvious to all.

“And since I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet.  I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you.”

John 13:14-16

Andrew Murray

alaskabibleteacher.com

Love Wears Work Gloves

 “But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?”

“Little children, let us not love in words or talk but in deeds and in truth.”

1 John 3:17-18, ESV

Love is a noble idea, it’s admired and extolled by practically everyone–we see it in our music and poetry, ethics and religion. For the most part it’s a word for something decent and virtuous and honorable. It’s a good thing, but I’m afraid it’s not always scriptural.

You see, Bible love wears work gloves.

It labors and sweats. Bible love has chores to do, and it actively looks and sees what needs to be done. 1 John 3 tells us that we shouldn’t deceive ourselves and only see the world’s definition. That love that a believer has is to be different.

Love, in John’s eyes, is most assuredly “doing.” It burns spiritual calories as it labors to serve our brothers and sisters. Love finds things it can do–it doesn’t just talk but it gets busy. Love sees the need and then gets down to serve.

“You must show sincere love to each other as brothers and sisters. Love each other deeply with all your heart.”

1 Peter 1:22

Working (serving) has nothing to do with our salvation, that is a free gift. We’re saved by grace through the blood of Jesus–that’s a given. And this serving love isn’t drudgery, as a matter of fact, working and serving each other is a joy. The deepest kind of joy there is.

Our words, although important, are really an insufficient way of proving our authenticity.  The love we serve another with isn’t “pretty poetry” kind of love. It’s so easy to just shout out truth and never ever show a working, serving kind of love. 

That disconnect is a bit disconcerting. When do we suppose we figure out that His love is actually a verb?