Christ

Nov

2020

The King who Inscribes his Character on Us

A message for Christ the King Sunday

Our King does not dominate or dictate
Our King invigorates us to be like him

There are a number of churches around the world named “Christ the King.” The Cathedral of Christ the King in Mullingar, Ireland, is reportedly the first church given that name. The Cathedral of Christ the King in Atlanta is one of the ten largest congregations in the United States. Those are just a couple of the big Christ the King churches. There are numerous smaller congregations too.

I don’t know of any churches named “Christ the Tyrant” or “Christ the Despot” or “Christ the Dictator.” I Google-searched for such names, but couldn’t find any. I did find an opinion piece arguing that Christians tend to view their Lord that way–as a benevolent dictator. But if there are people of faith who take that view, they’re mistaken. Christ the King is certainly not like some military strongman or arbitrary emperor, nor even like a benevolent dictator. Christ is not someone who looks upon us as weak subjects who do his bidding simply to suit his whims. Christ did not become our king by standing above us, pointing out what we must do from moment to moment. Christ became our king by standing with us, among us, leading us in a path we could not have followed without his leadership. Jesus said to those who followed him, “I am among you as one who serves” (Luke 22:27). On the night he said that, Jesus proved his point by getting down on the floor and washing his disciples’ feet (cf. John 13).

Quite clearly, Jesus is the opposite of a tyrant. He won our allegiance by going into battle against tyrants and overlords for us. The tyrant was sin. The tyrant was the devil who accuses and all the demons that torment us. Those are the sorts of rulers that dictate and demand, that control us by fear and guilt. Christ is not like that.

Jesus is also much different from even the most benevolent dictator. Such a ruler believes that he must decide all things for the people underneath him because they are underlings and he is so much above them. Now, it is true that Christ, our King, certainly does know what is best for us. Christ is “the wisdom of God” (1 Corinthians 1:24). As high as the heavens are above the earth, so far are his thoughts higher than our thoughts (cf. Isaiah 55:9). But the fact that Christ is superior to us in all things does not mean he deals with us as inferiors. Rather, he comes alongside us and shares his life and strength with us. He invigorates us with his words, his Spirit, so that we become alive in him. We become more and more like him as we grow in our relationship with him.

I have known God-fearing people who haven’t understood this, who haven’t grasped how Christ is seeking to lead them. They trouble themselves over every detail of their lives, searching desperately for some sort of sign from God. “What is God’s will?” they’ll say; “What does God want me to do?” I knew a woman who struggled over the smallest decisions like that. She begged to know what actions God wanted her to take, almost hoping a daily to-do list would appear like handwriting on the wall, so she’d know she wasn’t making any mistakes. In her anxiousness, she once put two pens side by side on the table and asked, “Now, which pen does God want me to use? The blue one or the black one?” That’s going too far in expecting God to direct our lives. Yes, Christ is our leader by night and by day. But Jesus leads us not as though we are blindfolded and he must guide our feet for every step we take. He instills his character and his way of life in us, so that we make our own decisions as the new persons that we are in Christ (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:17). It’s an outmoded way, a childish way, to want God to dictate every direction to us, to tell us exactly what to do in every instant. It’s a new way of life, as we become mature in Christ, that we make our own decisions and take actions that flow from the mind of Christ which is in us (cf. 1 Corinthians 2:16).

Consider the Epistle assigned for this weekend for the festival of Christ the King. The prayer for the Christians at Ephesus remains an apostlic prayer for us today. Notice the emphasis on how the power of Christ works in us and inspires us as he extends his kingdom into our hearts.

I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you … and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power. God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion …. And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all (Ephesians 1:17-23).

Christ as king is head over all things for us. That’s not an image of some giant head floating in the air like the Great and Powerful Oz. There’s no false pretense of power with Christ our King. He rules in a way far better than the way any authority in this world operates. Even while Christ is seated high above in the heavenly places, he is at the same time intimately connected to us, like the head to members of the body. His thoughts pulse through us and we operate in unity with him. We are his feet to run out into the world, his hands to extend help and care to persons in his name, to put into practice his love.

Consider also the description of what Christ will find when he returns at the end of time, when he “comes in his glory, and all the angels with him” and “all the nations will be gathered before him” (Matthew 25:31-42). Who are the people he calls his own, who truly have known him?

The king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me” (Matthew 25:34-36).

When Christ says this to his people, what is their reaction? “When did we do that?” They wonder what he’s talking about. Christ’s people do such actions on behalf of “the least of these” fellow members of the human family not because they’re keeping score of their good deeds, not because they’re trying to impress God by their actions. They do such things just because that’s who they are, because the spirit of Christ inhabits them and propels them into action. The people of Christ’s kingdom serve everyone they encounter without thinking, “This is something I must do because the king has issued an executive order.” Yes, the kingdom of Christ has laws, but those laws are designed by our Lord for our good and the good of our neighbors. As we grow in our understanding and relationship with our King, we embody more and more the spirit and compassion and action that he has for all who are in need. We become Christ to our neighbors.

Martin Luther famously wrote on that theme–that we become like “little Christs.” In his booklet On the Freedom of a Christian (1520), Luther wrote:

Since God has overwhelmed me with such inestimable riches, why should I not freely, cheerfully, and with my whole heart do all that I know will be pleasing to him? I will therefore give myself, as a sort of Christ, to my neighbor, as Christ has given himself to me. I will do whatever is advantageous and wholesome for my neighbor, since by faith I abound in all good things in Christ. … We each become a sort of Christ to each other, so that we may be mutually Christs, and that the same Christ may be in all of us; that is, that we may be truly Christians.

Our life as Christ’s people, in his service, is not like serving an earthly ruler who dominates and bullies to get his way, and whose subjects survive by trying to ingratiate themselves with the ruler. We serve as people whose character has been transformed by the grace and goodness of our king. We become his allies in extending the life of his kingdom into a world that has not understood him and operates by principles so often opposite to his.

Which leads to one final point that must be mentioned. We need to take notice of the other sort of approach that predominates in this world. It is an approach not only by the rich and powerful, who lord it over others in positions of power and authority. It’s also an approach adopted by people in general toward authority — including God’s authority. It may work with the powers that be in this world, but it doesn’t work with God. In the Gospel reading for today, did you notice how those who are on the wrong side of Christ respond when Christ says they did not do the things that people of his kingdom do? They say, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you” (Matthew 25:44)? And he will answer them, “Just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me” (Matthew 25:45). They thought they had done good things.They thought of themselves as good people. They expected God should be pleased with them, because they had minded their own business and stayed out of trouble. They may even think they had done great undertakings for the King, that they would have an elevated position in his kingdom because of high-powered things that they did. Jesus described such persons in his Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 7:21-23):

Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. On that day many will say to me, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?” Then I will declare to them, “I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.”

Too often people have the wrong idea, thinking Jesus owes it to everybody to be nice to them. And they also think that if they go out of their way to do things they think God wants, that then they are entitled to extra rewards, sort of like people may think their donations or efforts on behalf of some political leader entitle them to perks and privileges in that person’s administration. But Christ our King doesn’t operate by those principles. Christ calls his people to follow him, not worldly “philosophy and empty deceit” or “human tradition” (Colossians 2:9). We are called to follow the truth according to Christ, whose kingdom is not of this world (cf. John 18:36). So let’s not be confused. Let’s not slip back into worldly thinking, into tallying up our good deeds as though keeping a scoresheet will impress Christ the King, or boasting about where we think we stand with God or how right or righteous we are. Being servants of Christ’s kingdom means setting ourselves aside and simply serving others. Christ established his kingdom by laying down his life for those whom he loved and came to serve. As servants of Christ the King, we carry on in his kingdom and extend his kingdom in the same way. We deny ourselves. We take up whatever crosses we may be asked to carry, and we do all we can to help others carry their crosses too (cf. Luke 29:23-25). As the word of our King tells us, “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ (Galatians 6:2). That’s how we serve–and whom we serve–as the people of Christ the King.

Oct

2020

When you realize everything you were was wrong

Becoming aware that mercy triumphs over judgment

by David Sellnow

The evangelist Luke, chronicler of the Acts of the Apostles, was a writer who sought to give “an orderly account” of events (cf. Luke 1:3). Luke’s reporting concerning the conversion of Saul (also known as Paul) sticks to the facts of what happened. Saul had been “breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord” (Acts 9:1). He sought permission from the highest religious authorities to go to Syria to round up followers of “the Way” — believers in Jesus as the Christ. Saul wanted to take them into custody and bring them back to Jerusalem as religious criminals. The Lord had other plans. He blinded Saul with light from heaven and said, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Those traveling with Saul “led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank” (Acts 9:8-9). In Damascus, Saul was brought into the Christian community and baptized, and “began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, ‘He is the Son of God’” (Acts 9:20).

Today, we’re used to journalists asking, “How did you feel?” when they interview persons after some life-changing experience. Luke didn’t pause to provide insights into Saul’s emotional state. We can well imagine the shock of it, though — suddenly becoming aware that everything he thought and everything he’d done had been aimed in the wrong direction. He had felt he was serving God by the rigid religious principles he pursued. But his insistence on his own rightness had prevented him from seeing what a merciful God really had in mind. In the encounter on the Damascus road, Jesus had said to Saul, “It hurts you to kick against the goads” (Acts 26:14). Like a work animal kicking back against a master prodding it forward, Saul was resisting the message of grace that God was calling him and all people to believe. Rather than striving to squelch and suppress those who had come to see Jesus as Christ, the Messiah, Saul should have been joining “the Way” and working with them. And by God’s grace, that’s exactly what he then did. As the Apostle Paul, he later expressed his amazement that even though he had been “a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence,” yet he received mercy because he “had acted ignorantly in unbelief.” He was awed by the grace of God that overflowed to him “with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus” (1 Timothy 1:13).

The Epistle lesson for this Sunday (the 18th Sunday after Pentecost) provides another window into how Paul felt about his conversion from self-righteous Pharisee to someone trusting in the righteousness of Jesus Christ. Paul wrote:

If anyone else has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, a member of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless.
Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ. More than that, I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith (Philippians 3:4b-9).

In the church today, the tendency easily resurfaces to become adamant against “sinners” and “heretics,” the way Paul was prior to his face-to-face encounter with Jesus. Being convinced of one’s rightness and propriety can lead to overzealous efforts to keep the church “pure,” purged of those who aren’t the “right sort” of persons. When that thinking sets in, the fact that no one is the “right sort” of person has been forgotten. The truth is that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), and all are to be extended the mercy in Jesus’ name without distinctions or prejudices. The purpose of the church is not to police people’s opinions and condemn those who don’t comply with existing traditions. In fact, the Lord is unhappy with those who try to impose their own expectations and restrictions on others. “For judgment will be without mercy to anyone who has shown no mercy; mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:13). Love and mercy and welcome are to be shown to “a poor person in dirty clothes” who comes into a church assembly no differently than if a rich person “with gold rings and fine clothes” walked through the door (James 2:2). God is defined by love and mercy toward all persons more so than by laws and policies and dress codes and rules.

If you catch yourself thinking that your religious convictions are elevated above others, or that there are certain types of persons you don’t want in your church with you, be careful. You may be kicking against the Lord, insisting on maintaining a form of spiritual inertia rather than moving forward in mercy where the Lord calls you to go. What you have thought may need to be discarded as rubbish, compared to “the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus as Lord” (Philippians 3:8), and the compelling mission of extending mercy to all others in his name.

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Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Aug

2020

Healthy self-assessment

For the sake of our service in Christ

by David Sellnow

The Epistle appointed for this Sunday got me thinking. Of course, all of Scripture is inspired and prompts our pondering on many levels (cf. 2 Timothy 3:16-17). But a particular line in today’s pericope sparked the thoughts I’ll share here today.

Here’s the verse from Paul’s letter to the Romans: “For by the grace given to me, I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned” (Romans 12:3).

Thinking of ourselves with sober judgment is difficult. We tend to go overboard in one direction or the other. Some church members may hold their own opinions and desires paramount over others and will try to control a congregation’s agenda to suit themselves. At the same time, other church members can be overly humble and self-effacing. Yes, we are called upon to live in humility (Ephesians 4:2). But that doesn’t mean adopting so low a view of ourselves that we hold back from serving others. Church leaders often struggle to find persons for needed ministry roles when members shrink away from teaching or witnessing or leadership, thinking themselves not up to the task.

Trust me, I’m not lecturing anyone with this bit of blogging, as if I’ve attained the ability to do appropriate self-assessment. I’ve erred on both ends of the spectrum. At times in my life, I’ve been way too full of myself, thinking I was somebody important. At other times, I’ve been overly hard on myself, thinking I had no value to anyone and nothing to offer. Perhaps your own self-image has followed a similar pattern, sometimes puffed up, other times entirely deflated.

We’re not alone in this dilemma. Even Moses had to learn about estimating his abilities humbly and honestly. Having grown up in a position of privilege in the royal palace, he envisioned himself as hero to intervene on behalf of his people, the enslaved Israelites. “One day, he went out to where his own people were. He watched them while they were hard at work. He saw an Egyptian hitting a Hebrew man. The man was one of Moses’ own people. Moses looked around and didn’t see anyone. So he killed the Egyptian. Then he hid his body in the sand” (Exodus 2:11-12). Moses had thought too highly of himself, presumed too much authority too soon, and ended up fleeing for his life. He spent decades as a shepherd in a foreign land and started a family there. After many years, God decided it was time for Moses to take on the mantle of leadership. But when the Lord then came to call Moses be his prophet, Moses balked. “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt” (Exodus 3:11)? He objected, “Suppose they do not believe me or listen to me” (Exodus 4:1)? Even after the Lord demonstrated miracles that would validate Moses’ divine calling, Moses still offered an excuse: “O my Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor even now that you have spoken to your servant; but I am slow of speech and slow of tongue” (Exodus 4:10). And when the Lord kept pressing, saying, “I will be with your mouth and teach you what you are to speak,” Moses pleaded, “O my Lord, please send someone else” (Exodus 4:12,13).

God considered Moses the right man for the job, but Moses had stopped seeing himself as someone who could do anything of significance. Of course, we know whose view of the situation was accurate and whose wasn’t. With God’s strength supporting him, Moses became the leader God intended him to be. After his death it was written, “Never since has there arisen a prophet in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face. He was unequaled for all the signs and wonders that the Lord sent him to perform in the land of Egypt … and in the sight of all Israel” (Deuteronomy 34:10-12).

When it comes to our own service in Christ’s kingdom, may God preserve us from presumption and arrogance as well as from minimizing or degrading ourselves. May we not think of ourselves more highly than we ought … but also not more lowly than we ought. Rather, may we consider our abilities as God’s servants “with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned” (Romans 12:3). We want to see ourselves through a lens of humility, but not a warped lens that fails to see ways we can bring benefit to others in our world. As the apostle Paul urged elsewhere, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others” (Philippians 2:3-4). A key part of looking to the interests of others involves healthy self-assessment of gifts and talents and skills we possess, which we can use in caring for others. Rather than saying, “O my Lord, please send someone else” (Exodus 4:13), when we have the abilities and opportunities, God help us to say, “Here I am; send me!” (Isaiah 6:8).

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Aug

2020

The House of Disposable Souls

A Fable

by David Sellnow

“In the land of spirit beings, there was a house that gathered souls.They sought out souls that were perfectly spherical. Any souls they discovered that were out of round or oddly shaped were quickly discarded. They sought out souls that were unstained and unblemished. Any souls they discovered that had bumps or bruises were passed over and rejected. They sought out souls that were shiny and glowed in a preferred range of colors. Any souls they discovered that were mottled or blurry or too dark in appearance were left behind and ignored.

“Over time, the spirits gathered a small collection of souls that they protected and preserved in their house. If any of the souls developed inconsistencies or loss of clarity or discoloration or dulling, those souls were removed from the house. The spirits would seek other, more impeccable specimens, as replacements. The house became known as The House of Disposable Souls.

“Elsewhere in the land of spirit beings, there was another house that gathered souls. They searched for souls of all shapes and sizes. They included souls that were imperfect, unpolished, irregular. They valued souls that were rough to the touch as well as those that were smooth. They recognized special worth in souls that were differently shaped and of variegated colors. They saw deep potential in all souls they encountered. They labored to help each soul radiate its own unique sheen, coaxing out natural hues and luster. If souls they found or souls in their care suffered cracks or were damaged, the spirits applied balm to heal the wounds. They sought to refresh and develop each soul, nurturing strength as well as tenderness. The house became known as the House of Renewable Souls.”

After concluding the story, the teacher asked her listeners: “Which of these houses cared for souls as the Creator of souls intended?”

The listeners knew they had growing to do in their own attitudes and ministries.

Scriptures to consider:

“The Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10).
“There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. … I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:7,10).
”Here is my servant, whom I have chosen. … He will not break a bruised reed or quench a smoldering wick” (Matthew 12:18, 20).
”Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God. He is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption” (1 Corinthians 1:26-30).

Prayer:

Creator of all, teach us to value each human soul in the same spirit as Christ our Savior, who said, “Anyone who comes to me I will never drive away” (John 6:37). Amen.

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Jul

2020

Life without love = nothing

by David Sellnow

In the previous post on this blog, I mentioned Scripture’s instruction that if we do not have love, our witness will ring hollow. I’d like to expand on that thought, making further application of what the apostle Paul affirmed (1 Corinthians 13:1-3):

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Notice that the various things Paul mentioned are all good things: speaking in heavenly ways, having deep spiritual knowledge, possessing great faith, being willing to undergo poverty and suffering. Yet such things by themselves do not exhibit the heart and soul of someone who lives in Christ. If our beliefs or knowledge or speaking or acting aren’t “rooted and grounded in love” (Ephesians 3:17), then others are right to question whether Christ fully dwells in our hearts, whether we are indeed strengthened in our inner being with power through his Spirit (cf. Ephesians 3:16,17).

Allow me to expand on Paul’s list of examples, thinking of our lives individually and congregationally, continuing in the style of Paul’s refrain.

If we are well-dressed, well-groomed, well-behaved — but do not have love — our lives are only a show of appearances, not an embodiment of God’s grace.
If we are nice to our neighbors and active in community projects, but do not have love, we are fostering our own reputation more than serving others’ souls.
If we are good employees, good citizens, good friends, but do not have love, our goodness is an outward affair only, not an inward renewal of our hearts.
If we dig deeply into doctrine and explore every intricacy of spiritual teaching, but do not have love, we don’t draw closer to God, but fail to see his true path.
If we sing glorious songs with many voices in our choirs, but do not have love, we are making music but nothing more.
If we develop programs for youth, for seniors, for singles, for whatever group or audience, but do not have love, we are providing activities without a foundation, things to do without values that will endure.
If we create engaging church websites and social media campaigns, but do not have love, we have only a virtual presence, without really being there for others.
If we build chapels and cathedrals and schools and other edifices, but do not have love, we have nothing but shingles and stones, roofs and walls.
If we have overflowing crowds when we gather for worship, but do not have love, we gather for nothing.

Image credit: Thomas Hawk on Flickr <https://www.flickr.com/photos/thomashawk/48487781532/>

I don’t mean to demean any of the items listed in those examples. Being helpful to neighbors, dedicated on the job, dutiful in spiritual study — these are good things. Organizing church programs and activities, singing in the choir, building spaces that can be used for ministry purposes — these are worthwhile pursuits. However, for any of our endeavors to be genuine and truly alive, love must be the source that gives rise to them. Roots deep in the soil supply life to plants and the fruit the plants produce. So too with our lives as Christians. Christ is the source of our life; his love is the root of any actual good we do. If we do things that purport to be good, but the love of Christ is not in us, then it rings hollow. That expression stems from the Middle Ages, when coins filled with less-than-precious metals could be exposed as counterfeit by the dull sound they made when dropped on a stone slab. A real coin would ring true. We aspire to be real in our Christianity, followers of Christ who are filled with his love through and through.

A Christian’s life without love in it is, ultimately, nothing. “I am the vine, you are the branches,” Jesus said. “Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). The disciple who perhaps knew Jesus’ love best — his dear friend John — emphasized his Lord’s point when he wrote: “Love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God” (1 John 4:7,8).

May the Lord make us “increase and abound in love for one another and for all” (1 Thessalonians 3:12). For if “we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us” (1 John 4:12).

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Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Jul

2020

We are his witnesses

by David Sellnow

A message referencing readings for the 7^th Sunday after Pentecost: Isaiah 44:6-8, Romans 8:12-25, Matthew 13:24-30

“Do you promise that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” We would expect to be asked a question like that in a courtroom, if we were asked to give testimony. That’s probably what we picture as what it means to be a witness. We think of it as something formal, something done in an official setting. I wonder if that image of what it means to be a “witness” confuses our understanding of what Jesus meant when he said, “You will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8).

I knew a church that had an evangelism committee that hadn’t yet done any evangelizing. The congregation knew they had a mission to tell God’s good news to others. So, they established an evangelism committee. That committee began meeting and studying about communicating the gospel. They continued in that study for two years and had not yet made any visits to anyone. The members of the committee were dutifully concerned that they would do everything right, say everything right. But their fear of speaking something inaccurate kept them from fulfilling their intention of giving witness to the Christian message. Do we maybe think that we must have specialized training before we can serve as witnesses?

I wonder also if we consider what we do inside the church as the primary witness of the church. Have we been depending too much on the church itself (as an institution) to be the witness, rather than we ourselves, the people of the church, as the witnesses? We’ve probably worried that the current health emergency (COVID-19) will reduce the church’s witness. We look at our church buildings, which now must limit the number of persons in attendance, as the main place of witnessing. But at the time when God spoke through Isaiah and said, “You are my witnesses” (Isaiah 44:8), there were no churches, no synagogues. For the half of history when the nation of Israel was called upon to be “a light to the nations,” and extend God’s salvation “to the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6), they did not do so through local congregations. Solomon’s temple had been built as the singular place of worship. It was not until more than a century after Isaiah, after Solomon’s temple was destroyed by the Babylonians (six centuries before Christ), that the Jewish people began to establish synagogues as places for religious instruction. Israel was God’s witness in the world long before they had local synagogues to spearhead that effort.

So also, when Jesus said, “You will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8), there were at that time no Christian church buildings. Christians in the first decades after Jesus’ ascension met together in people’s homes, in public spaces, in whatever meeting place they could find. The people themselves were a driving force of the spread of Christianity in those early days, along with the activity of the apostles. They were his witnesses. Even when believers in Jesus were persecuted and scattered, they continued to live their faith and speak about Christ wherever they went (cf. Acts 8:1-4).

Maybe the present difficulty for churches gathering inside our own buildings will remind us of the essential role each of us has in our everyday contacts outside with people–wherever and however those contacts can occur within a socially distanced environment. In Jesus’ parable of the sower (Matthew 13:1-9), we hear how God sows his word liberally everywhere–almost seeming like someone who is wasting his seed because so much falls in places where it doesn’t take root. But it isn’t a waste. It’s how God’s word works. It finds its way into hearts according to God’s timing, not ours, according to his will, not ours. As witnesses of God’s truth, we sow seed in that way. We spread our witness all around us, all the time, every day, wherever we are, in whatever we do or say. Being a witness is, in many ways, about simply exuding who we are as God’s people. Our identity as God’s people will be something others will notice.

Think of the way our daily existence was described in Paul’s letter to the Romans (8:12-16): “So then, brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh … If by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God.”

Paul went on (Romans 8:18-25) to describe the constant hope in which we live as children of God, hope for the future, hope for redemption, enduring hope even in the face of whatever suffering we may suffer now. That kind of hope, that confidence that God is good and always cares for his people–that’s what we witness to others by the ongoing attitude we embody and demonstrate.

But what if the attitude evident in people who say they are Christians is not consistently illustrating God’s redeeming grace? About a dozen years ago, Barna Group president David Kinnaman, partnered with Gabe Lyons, another leader in looking at trends concerning Christianity and culture. They engaged in three years of research across the United States. They surveyed and interviewed thousands of young adults (ages 16-29) outside of the church, asking about their perceptions of Christians and Christianity from an outsider’s point of view. In the book detailing what they learned (Baker Books, 2007), Kinnamon and Lyons said: “Christianity has an image problem. … Our research shows that many of those outside of Christianity, especially younger adults, have little trust in the Christian faith, and esteem for the lifestyle of Christ followers is quickly fading among outsiders. … [Outsiders] reject Jesus because they feel rejected by Christians.” Kinnaman and Lyons titled the book unChristian because that “reflects outsiders’ most common reaction to the faith: they think Christians no longer represent what Jesus had in mind” (p. 11,15). One of the biggest perceived problems is that Christians are not, for the most part, loving people. According to the research, “nearly nine out of ten outsiders (87 percent) said that the term judgmental accurately describes present-day Christianity.” They elaborated: “To be judgmental is to point out something that is wrong in someone else’s life, making the person feel put down, excluded, and marginalized. … Being judgmental is fueled by self-righteousness, the misguided inner motivation to make our own life look better by comparing it to the lives of others” (p. 182). One of the young people interviewed summed it up this way: “Christians talk about love, but it doesn’t feel like love. I get the sense they believe they are better than me” (p. 192).

That’s a stinging indictment, and maybe we feel that’s unfair. But the impression that Christians are more judgmental than they are loving was something even young people within the church said was true. According to the research, more than half (53 percent) of 16 to 29 year-old Christians also agreed that “the label judgmental accurately fits present-day Christianity” (p. 183). And in the years since unChristian was published, those trends have continued. Between 2009 and 2019, the percentage of young adults (those in their 20s and 30s) who identify as Christians declined by 16% in America, a greater drop-off than any other age group, according to findings by the Pew Research Center.

How is it that the church’s witness is giving off such a negative impression and turning away even many of our own young people? Maybe churches too often have forgotten what Jesus taught in the parable of weeds among the wheat (Matthew 13:24-30). In an overzealous desire to keep the church pure of any “weeds,” churchy people point out anything they see as unrighteous in anyone else and try to rid the Lord’s harvest field of any plant that isn’t perfect. Jesus told us not to do that. “No,” he said, “for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest” (Matthew 13:29,30). It will be God’s responsibility at the final judgment to separate “weeds” from “wheat,” those who are faithless from those who have trusted in him. Exercising final judgment over another human soul is not our responsibility; it is in God’s hands. Our task is to nurture and tend to every person as someone who may grow to be one of God’s children.

Our witnessing isn’t about us. It’s not about how tidy and well-groomed we can keep our little corner of the whole earthly garden where God is seeking to grow believers. It’s about extending God’s goodness to all people. It’s about God’s Spirit inspiring a spirit of mercy in us, not a judgmental spirit. As Jesus’ brother James taught us: “You do well if you really fulfill the royal law according to the scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself,’” understanding that “mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:8,13). Being witnesses of the good news of our God means letting his gospel grow unimpeded, without letting ourselves and our judgmentalism get in the way.

There’s another way that we stumble over ourselves and get in our own way as witnesses. When we hear Jesus say, “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16) – what do we think of as the “good deeds” that people are to see in us? Do we think people are watching to see how often our cars are in the church parking lot? Do we think people are listening to make sure no foul language ever slips out of our mouths?

It’s like the church committee I mentioned before that thought they had to prepare a flawless script if they were going to do witnessing. It’s not about whether we say everything perfectly. In our own less-than-perfect ways, we just keep pointing to the one who is perfect for us. It’s not that we know all the answers. We show others the one who holds us in his mercy even when we struggle to answer life’s hardest questions. The same principle holds when it comes to our behavior as God’s witnesses in this world. It’s not about showing our neighbors how righteous we are. It’s not about how much we pray in public places. You may recall that Jesus said, “When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others” (Matthew 6:5). Jesus called out people who tried to look perfect in public as “whitewashed tombs — which on the outside look beautiful” but inside they are full of deadness and hypocrisy (Matthew 23:27-28). That’s not the sort of witness Jesus calls for.

What did Jesus say? “Everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35). The witness we give to the world of who God is and what God is like is shown by the love we show to others. How much grace is in our souls, evident in the way we treat every person we meet? After all, if we could speak as perfectly as angels, but do not have love, we are like banging gongs or clanging cymbals (cf. 1 Corinthians 13:1). The world doesn’t need self-congratulatory noise from Christian people. The world needs our consistent, faithful, loving witness. The world needs embodied, lived, expressed testimony of God’s grace in action through us. “God is love” (John 4:16). Living in love thus is the primary ingredient in our witness. By our love we give witness to a Father who loves the whole world so much that he gave us his Son. By our love, we give witness to Christ, who gave up his own life, “the righteous for the unrighteous” (1 Peter 3:18). By our love we give witness to the Spirit of God, whose fruit–the things the Spirit produces–are “love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Galatians 5:22,23).

Isaiah’s prophecy announced the truth centuries ago. There is no other god besides “the Lord, the King of Israel, and his Redeemer” (Isaiah 44:6). There is no other rock, no other solid ground to stand on, no other source of love so strong and so deep. And the Lord, the King, our Redeemer says to us, “You are my witnesses” (Isaiah 44:8). May we, as his witnesses, live up to what we sing in a familiar song:

We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord,
And we pray that all unity will one day be restored.
And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love;
Yes, they’ll know we are Christians by our love.

– Father Peter Scholtes, “We Are One in the Spirit” (1966)

Scripture quotations are from New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Jan

2020

God came to a world in need

Originally posted on The Electric Gospel on December 29, 2019.

God came to a world which needed him

by David Sellnow

It was a time when international power dwarfed the day to day lives of everyday people. The world managed to avoid an all-engrossing global war; there was a general peace, of a sort. But that peace was maintained only by fear of what giant military might could do. Meanwhile, outbreaks of violence and suppression of revolution regularly dotted the map.

It was a time when political rulers made promises to appeal to the masses, while at the same time doing what was most advantageous for maintaining their own rank and position. The most brutal leaders would go as far as using imprisonment or death to eliminate threats to their power.

It was a time when a fraction of the world’s population controlled the bulk of the worlds’ wealth, and the poor and working classes struggled to maintain their existence.

It was a time when women were dominated by men and had to navigate societal institutions in which men held sway, and when dominant peoples and groups subjugated minority populations and disadvantaged groups.

It was a time when differing religious and philosophical systems competed for people’s loyalties. Some beliefs were accepted in society; others were ostracized. Persons could be persecuted for following beliefs that went against accepted norms, and attacks by one religious group on another were not uncommon.

It was the world of the Roman Empire at the beginning of the Common Era. Augustus ruled as Caesar, maintaining the Roman peace by the force of Roman armies. Augustus famously would bemoan the loss of some of his legions in battle vs. Germanic tribes in the Teutoberg Forest, but in most places, Rome ruled with an iron fist. They also granted leeway to local rulers that served their purposes, such as Herod in the province of Judea. Herod was the kind of man willing to slaughter even babies in order to protect his own position (cf. Matthew chapter 2). In the Roman world in those days, the top 1½% of the population controlled 20% of all existing wealth, according to Walter Schiedel and Steven Friesen, writing in The Journal of Roman Studies (Volume 99, November 2009). The majority of individuals eked out a living, and as many as one in five persons across the empire were held in slavery (Ancient History Encyclopedia). Religions and philosophies varied across the empire, while at the same time a cult of religious reverence for the emperor himself was beginning to take shape.

It was into this sort of world that God intervened with his incarnational presence. Jesus was born, God in the flesh, as God’s response to all that was (and is) wrong with the world. In response to brute power, God displays his power in love through the gift of Christ. In response to an economy of inequality, God establishes mercy and charity as the way for persons to interact with one another. In response to religious division and confusion and worship of persons and things of this world, God offers a Savior who answers all persons’ religious hopes.

The descriptions at the beginning of this message about what the world was like in those days may well have reminded you of what the world is like in our time today. That’s not surprising. “There is nothing new under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 1:9). The good news is that the Savior, Jesus Christ—who entered our world in those days when “Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world” (Luke 2:1) and when Herod ordered the death of all baby boys in Bethlehem because it was said the King of the Jews had been born there (Matthew 2:2-8, 16)—Jesus remains God’s gift to the world today and always.

It is not with perishable things such as silver or gold (or any material things) that we are redeemed from the empty way of life that is otherwise common to the human race. Our redemption is in Christ, who was chosen before the creation of the world, but was revealed in these last times for our sake. Through him we believe in God, and so our faith and hope are in God (1 Peter 1:18-21).

Jan

2020

Faith cries out

Originally posted on the Electric Gospel on November 10, 2019.

Faith cries out

by David Sellnow

What happens inside your soul when crisis or disaster strikes your life? How do you feel? What do you say? Let me share with you words of pain from someone whose faith was put to the test by devastating losses. When life hurts, have you ever screamed thoughts like this?

“Why didn’t I die at birth, my first breath out of the womb my last? … I could be resting in peace right now, asleep forever, feeling no pain.”
“I hate this life! Who needs any more of this?”
“God, how does this fit into what you once called ‘good’? … Can’t you let up, and let me smile just once …before I’m nailed into my coffin, sealed in the ground, and banished for good to the land of the dead?”
“Please, God … address me directly so I can answer you, or let me speak and then you answer me. How many sins have been charged against me? Show me the list—how bad is it? Why do you stay hidden and silent? Why treat me like I’m your enemy?”
“My spirit is broken, my days used up. … I can hardly see from crying so much. … My life’s about over. All my plans are smashed, all my hopes are snuffed out.”
“Why do the wicked have it so good, live to a ripe old age and get rich? … Their homes are peaceful and free from fear; they never experience God’s disciplining rod.”
“God has no right to treat me like this—it isn’t fair! If I knew where on earth to find him, I’d go straight to him. [But wherever I go, he’s not there.]”
“People are dying right and left, groaning in torment. The wretched cry out for help, and God does nothing, acts like nothing’s wrong!”
“I shout for help, God, and get nothing, no answer! I stand to face you in protest, God, and you give me a blank stare! … What did I do to deserve this? … Haven’t I wept for those who live a hard life, been heartsick over the lot of the poor? But where did it get me? I expected good but evil showed up. I looked for light but darkness fell. My stomach’s in a constant churning, never settles down. Each day confronts me with more suffering. I walk under a black cloud. The sun is gone.”

Have you ever had thoughts like that in the midst of trouble? If you have, does that mean you aren’t a good Christian? If you scream at God when you feel like God has disappeared from your world, have you failed the test of faith? Should you be more like Job, famous for his faith when afflicted with suffering? He lost his family (his adult children were killed). He lost his wealth. He lost his health. And yet he spoke with rock-solid conviction. Job’s famous words were written down and inscribed in a book forever: “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth; and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another” (Job 19:25-27 NRSV).

Perhaps you are more like Job than you realize. All of the words I quoted to you at first — words of complaint, of accusation against God, of desperation and wanting to be dead — those all were words of Job. (Bible quotations were from The Message, copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson. Referenced verses – Job 3:11,13; 7:16; 10:3,20-22; 13:20-24; 17:1,7,11; 21:7,9; 23:2-3,8-9; 24:11-12; 30:20-28.)

Job’s words of resurrection confidence are surrounded in Scripture by many words of grief and doubt and heartache. People speak of “the patience of Job” — and yes, the patience of a faithful heart remained alive in Job. But that patience of faith existed in the midst of the frayed nerves and tortured soul of a life under horrible strain. Job’s wife is often criticized for telling her husband to “curse God and die” (Job 2:9) when everything fell apart for them. But I’m sympathetic toward Job’s wife. She was a mother who lost her children and could not be comforted. Her heart was overwhelmed with pain. And Job, too, struggled with that pain. Job wrestled with God in his heart, and went back and forth in his thoughts. The same person who expressed all the anger and hurt I shared with you a few moments ago also said:

“Even if God killed me, I’d keep on hoping.” (Job 13:15 The Message)
“All through these difficult days I keep hoping, waiting for the final change—for resurrection!” (Job 14:14 The Message)
“Where then does wisdom come from? And where is the place of understanding? … God understands the way to it, and he knows its place. … Truly, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom; and to depart from evil is understanding.” (Job 28:20,23,28 NRSV)

Isn’t that the way that faith is in our lives? We go back and forth in our thoughts, between hurt and hope. We cry out to the Lord, “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24) If you read the Psalms, you’ll hear words of joy and praise as well as words of anguish and questioning. If you listen to Jesus himself, hanging on the cross, you’ll hear him scream, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34) as well as, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” (Luke 23:46 NRSV). You’ve likely seen this same thing in the lives of Christians you have known, or in your own hearts as God’s people fighting the good fight of faith. I’ve sat with a woman outside the intensive care unit, where her husband was going through organ failure after diabetes had done decades worth of damage to his body. I’ve sat with the family of an Air Force colonel who died in a tragic plane crash — not in battle, but while assigned to supervise younger pilots practicing for an air show. Things happen that seem senseless, merciless, unfair, intolerable. We cry out in distress and anguish, and at the same time call out to God in hope. When God seems to have abandoned us, that’s when we cling most urgently to his promise that he never will leave us, never will forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6, Hebrews 13:5).

Martin Luther spoke often about how God reveals himself to us in hidden ways, in the midst of pain and suffering and the cross. We tend to want God to show himself by big and bold and obvious blessings happening in our lives. But more often, God’s deepest work on our hearts happens through difficult things we don’t want to endure. In his Heidelberg theses (which he composed when under pressure to defend his teachings), Martin Luther said this:

“Now it is not sufficient for anyone and does no good to recognize God in his glory and majesty, unless he recognizes him in the humility and shame of the cross. Thus God destroys the wisdom of the wise, as Isaiah 45:15 says, ‘Truly, you are a God who hides himself.’”

God’s greatest work in this world was accomplished when God seemed to be absent from the scene, when Jesus was hanging on a cross, dying in shame, with people shouting obscenities at him. That’s not where people thought they’d find God. Yet that was how God had chosen to show himself and to save the world, through Jesus’ suffering. And in our own lives too, we are drawn closer to God, made more dependent on God, when facing life’s agonies and, ultimately, death. So when the difficult days come, yes, we will cry, we will scream, we will hurt. But we also will trust God is working in his own mysterious ways to draw us closer to himself and to draw us on in the direction of heaven. Because ultimately, “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1 NRSV).

The fact that we have faith doesn’t make us immune to hurt. Sometimes we forget that. I’ve known some Christians who’ve undergone a great loss or catastrophe, and they paste on a smile because they think a Christian should never be sad. They don’t allow themselves to grieve because they think grieving would mean they weren’t expressing hope. They may shed a tear at the funeral, but the day after they expect themselves to be putting all the sadness behind them. That’s an artificial understanding of our Christian hope. We don’t pretend we aren’t hurting. We acknowledge the full reality of pain and suffering, of sin and death, of the grave and loss. And at the same time, we cling to hope in the power of the resurrection. Think of Jesus, who broke down in tears when his friend Lazarus died – even while he knew he was going to raise Lazarus back out of his grave. Jesus felt death’s pain even when he had the power to overturn death. We need not gloss over the ugliness and bitterness of awful things that happen to us in this world. In the midst of that ugliness, we still seek God’s face (Psalm 105:4) and believe in his mercy.

When you’re facing loss, hardship, heartache, tragedy, it’s normal for you to cry out in pain. The great patriarch Job cried out again and again, begging God for answers. God remained silent for a time, but he did hear Job and he did finally answer him. And God hears you when you cry too. God is helping you even when you have a hard time feeling his support. He reminds you of his promises. His Spirit helps you hang on and have hope. Maybe you don’t have the patience of Job. Then again, even Job didn’t have the patience of Job! But all of us, as God’s people, will join with Job in confessing our faith. We say:

“I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth; and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another” (Job 19:25-27 NRSV).

That is our confidence, our cry of faith, even when this life is so often so full of so much pain. We cry with hurt, but we also cry with hope. How our hearts yearn within us!

Jan

2020

Jesus turns and looks at us

Originally published on the Electric Gospel on April 14, 2019.

Luke 22:54-62:

He denied Jesus, saying, “Woman, I don’t know him.” They seized him [Jesus], and led him away, and brought him into the high priest’s house. But Peter followed from a distance. When they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard, and had sat down together, Peter sat among them. A certain servant girl saw him as he sat in the light, and looking intently at him, said, “This man also was with him.”

After a little while someone else saw him, and said, “You also are one of them!”

But Peter answered, “Man, I am not!”

After about one hour passed, another confidently affirmed, saying, “Truly this man also was with him, for he is a Galilean!”

But Peter said, “Man, I don’t know what you are talking about!” Immediately, while he was still speaking, a rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked at Peter. Then Peter remembered the Lord’s word, how he said to him, “Before the rooster crows you will deny me three times.” He went out, and wept bitterly.

Jesus turns and looks at us

by David Sellnow

That look of Jesus when Peter denied him – what did that look look like? Luke only tells us that Jesus looked at Peter, he doesn’t specify how he looked at him. But from what has been revealed to us about Jesus, we can know something about that look.

It could not have been a look of shock or outrage. Jesus had known exactly what Peter was going to do that night. He had told Peter in advance about how he would deny his Lord three times. Everything was playing out just as Jesus had said it would go. So Jesus was not taken aback by what Peter was doing. His look at Peter was a reminder. His eyes said what he had already told Peter in words earlier that night: “You will deny me three times.” Jesus didn’t have to say anything further. Peter knew Jesus had spoken the truth. Peter was reminded that Jesus is the Truth.

It could not have been a look of spite or hatred. Jesus was not doing what he was doing because he hated Peter or anyone involved in what was happening. Jesus came into this world because God so loved the world. Jesus “loved his own who were in the world; he loved them to the end” (John 13:1). And he demonstrated his love for us in that “while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). While Peter was sinning against him, denying him with curses, Jesus still loved Peter and was reaching out to him. When Jesus looked at Peter, it could not have been a look of indignation.

It could not have been a look of rejection or condemnation. “For God didn’t send his Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world should be saved through him” (John 3:17). And specifically toward Peter, Jesus had shown his constant love and care. Earlier that night, before telling Peter the prophecy about how he would fall into denial, Jesus had said to him: “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has asked to have all of you, that he might sift you as wheat, but I have prayed for you, that your faith wouldn’t fail. You, when you have turned again, establish your brothers” (Luke 22:31-32). Jesus did not desire to condemn Peter. His overriding concern was to preserve Peter, to save him. Even if we are faithless in our actions, Jesus “remains faithful; for he cannot deny himself” (2 Timothy 2:13). So says the promise of Scripture. And Jesus made good on that promise to Peter. Satan sifted him like wheat, that’s for sure. But Jesus held on to Peter. With just one look, through the doorway, out into the dim light of the outer court, Jesus grabbed hold of Peter’s eyes and his heart. And Peter ran out and wept bitterly. He was ashamed. He was acutely aware of his failure of faith. But he had hope. He had a Savior who had told him he was going to fail but that he would be brought back. He had a Savior who led him to hear the rooster’s crow as a warning. He had a Savior who in the darkest moment looked at his friend with a look that showed that he knew Peter, that he loved Peter, that he was seeking Peter’s soul.

Like Peter, we also have our failures, our cowardice, our weakness of faith. But as with Peter, our Lord does not look at us with outrage or hatred or condemnation. The look in Jesus’ eyes is the look of the eternal God who stooped down from heaven to stand trial in our place, the look of someone who was willing to suffer unimaginable pain and horror for our sake, the look of a Savior who was willing to give himself up completely in order to win us back to our Father in heaven. We have been turned back to Jesus by his redeeming look at us, again and again. So with renewed strength, we can strengthen our brothers and sisters.

All Bible quotations from the World English Bible (WEB).

Jan

2020

Jesus, our Brother

Originally published on the Electric Gospel on February 28, 2019.

Jesus, our Brother

by David Sellnow

While Jesus was yet speaking to the multitudes, behold, his mother and his brothers stood outside, seeking to speak to him. One said to him, “Behold, your mother and your brothers stand outside, seeking to speak to you.”

But he answered him who spoke to him, “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?” He stretched out his hand toward his disciples, and said, “Behold, my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother” (Matthew 12:46-50).

Jesus made it clear that having a relationship with him is a matter of faith. Doing the will of the Father–which means believing in Jesus as the source of life (cf. John 6:29,40)–is what makes us Jesus’ brothers. Even Jesus’ own blood relatives on earth had no more special relationship with him or with God than is accessible to us through faith in Jesus.

On the night before his sacrificial death, Jesus spoke to his disciples as brothers, bracing them for what lay ahead (John 16:17-33). He emphasized that their relationship with God would not become diminished by his absence, when he returned to the Father. Rather, their relationship would be just as direct–they could go straight to the Father with any request. He assured them, “The Father himself loves you, because you have loved me, and have believed that I came from God” (John 16:27). The same is true for us today. We may have trouble in this world, but we cling to God with confidence, knowing Jesus has overcome all things in this world on our behalf.

It is significant that in his first appearance after rising from death (John 20:10-18), Jesus emphasized to Mary Magdalene his relationship with all the believers. He said to her, “Go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God’” (John 20:17). Believers are Jesus’ sisters and brothers, and his Father is our Father. Through our living Lord Jesus, God listens to us and loves us just as he listens to and loves his One and Only Son.

The writer to the Hebrews (2:10-18) summed up what Jesus has done for us as our brother. He became like us, one of us, in order to overcome sin and death for us and bring us into eternal life with him and the Father. He is not ashamed to call us his brothers, saying, “I will declare your name to my brothers. Among the congregation I will sing your praise” (Hebrews 2:12). Especially significant for our prayer life is the last verse of Hebrews chapter 2: “For in that he himself has suffered being tempted, he is able to help those who are tempted” (Hebrews 2:18). Jesus, our Brother, understands every temptation and struggle that we face. When we go to him in prayer, he is not far-removed or detached or unsympathetic. He walked a harder path on this earth than any of us will ever walk. He knows just how we hurt. We are able to confront and endure life’s trials with him at our side.

All Bible quotations from World English Bible (WEB), public domain.

Books available on Amazon.com –

The Lord Cares for Me: Stories and Thoughts on Psalm 23

Faith Lives in our Actions: God’s Message in James chapter 2

Becoming aware that mercy triumphs over judgment

For the sake of our service in Christ

A Fable

God came to a world which needed him

Faith cries out

Jesus turns and looks at us

Jesus, our Brother

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