Month: March 2021

“Habits of His Grace: Humility”

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(Mark 11:1-10)

A mutual friend recently sent this message to my wife: “What I love about myself is I work hard to gain humility.” We realize the irony of a statement like this is quite humorous. It also shows why humility is such a challenge for us – we want to be recognized for it when/if we achieve it! To demonstrate that truth, how would you rate your development in this department over the past year or two? Would you give yourself a fairly decent rating on a scale of 1 to 10 for having gradually improved in being more humble? And here’s the meta question: if you would be inclined to give yourself a strong or even respectable score in growing in humility, wouldn’t that actually be an indicator that you haven’t grown? If you were truly humble, wouldn’t you consistently give yourself a very low score? And, to take it a step further, if you’re now saying to yourself, “yes, I do give myself a low score in the area of humility,” doesn’t that come from a place of wanting to be recognized or acknowledged for your humility, which is of course the exact opposite of humility?!? Ach! Our lack of humility is humiliating!

The reason behind this frustration has been quoted frequently by C.S. Lewis: “Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.” The greatest concern that man has had ever since the Fall is self-preservation. Putting others first is not our default mode. Thinking of how we might serve others with all that we are and all that we have is not the first thought that fills our head when we wake up in the morning. We don’t think of how the day’s events affect others, but how they affect me. Humility isn’t natural; it is a habit of his grace. And Palm Sunday (Passion Sunday), the start of Holy Week (Passion Week), puts Jesus’ humility on display. 

The colt is a picture of humility. A donkey was not a picture of greatness or royalty, but a work animal, and nothing more. A horse, on the other hand, can be a fickle animal, prideful even. If it doesn’t want to be ridden, its rider won’t have an easy time mounting it. But a donkey puts up no fuss when being forced to labor or carry a burden. It humbly does what it is asked. Little girls don’t clamor for a donkey, but a horse. No one says they want to buy a farm and raise donkeys. We associate them not with greatness, but with humility. So how appropriate that a donkey would be the animal chosen to carry the humble Savior to Jerusalem, his final destination.

But perhaps you’ve found yourself wondering the same thing I wondered this recently: if this is an act of humility in the first place, then why is Jesus riding anything into Jerusalem? Why not quietly sneak in the back door, unnoticed? Why not just walk into Jerusalem without making a big scene? Why ride? Why all the fanfare? Is that really humility?

The colt and the praise-proclaiming parade of people have less to do with humility or some overt attempt on Jesus’ part to draw attention to himself, and much more to do with fulfilling Scripture. The Word of God said these things would happen, and so they had to happen that way. The prophet Zechariah prophesied that Jesus would enter into Jerusalem amidst rejoicing and on a donkey. “Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (9:9). 

Maybe it isn’t a surprise to see people shouting in the middle of a parade, but… why were the crowds present in the first place? They hadn’t received a text message that the Messiah was coming. There weren’t billboards announcing Jesus’ arrival. There were no television or radio ads publicizing the date and time of the Savior’s arrival, so from where did these crowds suddenly appear? God’s divine hand was clearly intervening to clarify the magnitude of this event. And they didn’t just shout any old thing, but very specific words that Mark recorded: “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” (11:9-10). Was it mere coincidence that the shouts of the people echoed Psalm 118? No – prophecy was being fulfilled. 

So no, these details don’t detract from Jesus’ humility so much as they draw attention to the fulfillment of Scripture. For that reason, Jesus’ humility is ironic and one-of-a-kind: his humility is by its uniqueness attractive. The one quality that goes against drawing attention to oneself is exactly the quality that makes Jesus so attractive. It wasn’t pride – to be known for the sake of being known, or to be famous for the sake of being famous – that compelled Jesus. Rather, his perfect humility set him apart. His humility is attractive because it’s unlike any other humility the world has ever seen.

There are two elements of Jesus’ humility that make it stand out (aside from the simple fact that his humility was perfect!). First of all, his humility is remarkable because of who he is. Don’t you love how Paul put it in Philippians? “Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage” (2:6). Jesus, eternal Jesus, God-in-the-flesh Jesus, answers to no-one Jesus, did not use his divine nature to trample over every earthly authority – which was itself established by him in the first place! 

Aren’t those the examples of humility that stand out most to us? When we see the highly regarded and those to whom society looks up act in humility, it is more noticeable because of who they are. So when Jesus acts in humility, it stands out so much because of who he is.

The other element of his humility that makes it stand out? Who we are. We know who Jesus is, and that he would humble himself for anyone defies our understanding; that he would humble himself for the likes of us takes humility to a whole other level. Turn the table for a moment. For whom are you more likely to humble yourself – a king, a president, a brilliant professor, or… your garbage collector, the barista who messed up your order, or the less-than-helpful customer-service rep on the phone? It’s one thing to humble ourselves before those we look up to, but to humble ourselves before those we perceive to be beneath us? That’s not so easy. 

Jesus achieved both in his humility. His divine nature didn’t go to his head, so to speak, and he humbled himself for you. For you, who think too highly of yourself too often. For you, who think too little of Jesus too often. For you, who stumbles back into sin so effortlessly. For you, so disinterested in really putting any effort into your life of sanctification and these habits of his grace. He, who is everything, humbled himself and “made himself nothing” (as Paul put it in Philippians 2:7) for you, who are nothing apart from him.

The One who is everything made himself nothing so that you, who are nothing, might have everything. And because of what he humbly rode into Jerusalem to do, you do have everything. Do you understand that? His humility is the reason you have everything. Humility that will see him serve the least of his disciples on Maundy Thursday. Humility that will see him scorned and suffer on Good Friday of this week. Humility that will see him die and be damned by the Father. 

All so that you could not only avoid all of that, but also in its place receive everything. Your sins are forgiven. You have peace. You have no reason to fear death. You have the promise of never having to go without what is needed. What does the world offer that compares to the “everything” you have through your humble Savior? Nothing that lasts. Nothing that endures. Nothing that makes a real difference. Nothing but fickle, fleeting, empty promises that will never satisfy. Let go of your attachments to the nothing of this world in favor of the “everything” you have in Jesus.

And then take seriously Paul’s encouragement: “In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5). Be humble like Jesus. You already have everything. Treat others as better than you. Think of others before yourself. Serve others before you serve yourself. Let the person cut in front of you in line. Let the driver into your lane. Let her go first. Put yourself beneath everyone else and in your humility find genuine joy that comes from being able to because you already have everything through him who made himself nothing for you.

“Habits of His Grace: Forgiveness”

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(Luke 7:36-50)

What would the scenario have to look like today? You are the host of the party. You are Simon. While unlikely, perhaps your motives in inviting Jesus are pure and you’re still searching to discover what you should think of him. Or, the whole thing is just a setup to see to hopefully see him stumble in a sticky situation. So in comes the woman with a sordid reputation… only in our day and age, we’d have to replace her with someone else? Whom might that be? Who would it really ruffle your feathers to see Jesus interact with in this way? A leading politician of the other political party you can’t stand? An outspoken activist for social justice? A proponent pushing pro-choice? An advocate for sexual or gender fluidity/orientation/preference? Because honestly, we’re so familiar with interactions Jesus had with sinful women in the Bible that we find ourselves rather sympathetically siding with the sinful women when we know those “no-good rotten Pharisees” are looking down on them. But would we have the same sympathy if we replaced the sinful women with the types of people that would make us cringe if Jesus were to treat them the same way?

In other words, forgiveness is nice and tidy when we see Jesus extend it to a sinful woman in Scripture, but perhaps that leaves us unable to see in ourselves a bit of Simon who was so offended that Jesus would engage in any way whatsoever with such people. But maybe we’d see more of Simon in ourselves if we replace the sinful woman with one of today’s equivalents that would bring our blood to a boil to see Jesus treat them as he did the woman. Then perhaps we would grasp what is central to understanding the unique challenge of this habit of his grace, forgiveness: that the problem is rarely the way we prefer to frame it – with the sinner on the other end, but rather the sinner on this end who by nature is selectively stingy with forgiveness toward others.

That’s the real reason this habit of his grace is so difficult. It’s honestly because it shows what’s wrong with ourselves more than what’s wrong with anyone else. It shows how unlike Jesus you truly are. It shows how undeserving of Jesus’ forgiveness and mercy you truly are when you can’t apply forgiveness to someone else. It shows how unworthy of heaven you really are to choose a to bear a grudge rather than to forgive. It shows that hell is not actually some really awful place reserved for really awful people, but that it’s a place for people like you who cannot forgive. So when you’re ready to stop hanging on to the idea that forgiveness is so hard because of what someone else may have ever done to you and instead accept that it’s so hard because it shows the painful picture of how unJesus-like you actually are, then progress can be made. 

Because that’s when Jesus’ forgiveness for you reaches a new depth of meaning and significance. Like, say, such a stream of tears flowing down your cheeks that they are substantial enough to wash Jesus’ feet. “As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them” (v.38). Compare the night and day difference between Simon and the sinful woman in the presence of Jesus. One can’t keep it together because she’s so emotionally overcome by the gracious forgiveness that rightly connects with its source, Jesus. The other can hardly keep it together because he’s nearly emotionally overcome with outrage by the sight of supposedly upstanding Jesus allowing a sinful woman to touch his feet! One was well aware of her sin and the joy of forgiveness; the other knew nothing of either. 

This was not only evident to Jesus, who alone can see the heart of each individual and know what is in it; but, that forgiveness had taken root in one heart and not the other was evident in their outward behavior, which Jesus didn’t hesitate to point out in front of everyone. “Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet” (v.44-46). That’s what forgiveness does – it won’t be kept concealed or hidden away to remain unseen; rather, it flows seamlessly into service. It blossoms into fruit. Forgiveness is the fertilizer which brings forth an abundant harvest of good works of love and service to others. The whole life of a Christian and anything good that comes from us can be traced all the way back to the radical power of forgiveness. Jesus connected that forgiveness to the woman’s humble service of gratitude: “Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown” (v.47a). Forgiveness had made itself so evident and obvious through her act of great love.

And in that respect, faith’s forgiveness is so radically different than any poor imitation forgiveness the world tries to offer up. The world is willing to grant forgiveness only when it determines the guilty party to be deserving of it. The world demands certain qualifications must be met. A level of remorse must not only be expressed, but also shown by actions. The world decides when punishment must be rendered in place of forgiveness. Appropriate actions must precede forgiveness. And, if these qualifications aren’t met and someone still extends forgiveness, it leaves a bitter taste in the world’s mouth. It resents it and sees that kind of forgiveness as weak and powerless. That’s why not everyone had the same reaction when Brandt Jean extended forgiveness to his brother’s murderer in the courtroom about a year and a half ago. Some expressed disgust and disappointment over video of the high-profile case that showed him leave the witness stand to hug Amber Guyger, who murdered his brother, Botham Jean, in his own apartment. While many applauded his powerful words and actions expressing his forgiveness, others saw no place for such mercy.

While every one of us knows that we ought to praise such a fine example of forgiveness and imitate it, too often we imitate the world’s poor excuse for forgiveness instead of faith’s forgiveness. We take up our gavel as judge to determine when others deserve forgiveness. We decide who is forgiven and who is not. And sometimes we are even less inclined to forgive each other – fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, justifying it because we have a different standard for Christians… instead of remembering that being a Christian does not mean one has ceased to be a sinner. So if we decide that forgiveness is applied on the basis of one’s actions, then we have forgotten how forgiveness came about in the first place.

The sinful woman’s forgiveness wasn’t earned by her actions. Her washing of Jesus’ feet did not open the floodgates of forgiveness. Rather, it was the other way around! The floodgates of forgiveness brought on the tears and grateful foot washing. She was forgiven so much that it burst forth from her heart in a loving act of gratitude.

That was the point of the quick illustrative story Jesus told. “Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?” (v.41-42). We all know the type of story Simon would have preferred, the same type of story that little Pharisee in each of us would also prefer. That’s the one about the moneylender to whom two borrowers owed a certain amount of money. One of the borrowers was always on time with his payment. In fact, sometimes he was even early! Other times he even paid back more than his monthly payment. And, he had even been known to help others with their payments on occasion! The other borrower, however, was rarely on time with his payment and had a habit of just coming up short each month with what he owed. The moneylender was delighted in the borrower who was on time and went above and beyond to pay back his debt. But he was displeased by the other borrower who clearly was less than desirable. Simon and the proud Pharisee in each of us would love to have Jesus tell that story just once in his ministry! Oh, that we could find such a story somewhere in the Bible that would validate why we’re so deserving of what God gives us, because we are fine, upstanding Christians, doing our part to pay back the debt we owe!

Alas, Jesus never tells such a story. His story is always one about the borrower never being able to pay back a debt, and the lender having to cancel his debt. But if the other story would be told then we would be justified in withholding forgiveness from others who have wronged us or whom we perceive to be inferior in their Christian faith – those who never seem to pay back what they owe on time! But there is no such story. For there is no such borrower who can pay back a single cent of what is owed to a Holy Righteous God. Luther said it best: “wir sind alle Bettler” (“We are all beggars”). If we ever approach God with even an ounce of expectation, confident in self, thinking we just might have earned so much as a crumb from him, we will always be underwhelmed by what he gives us. But when we come to him with the heart of a humble beggar, holding out our hands desperately to receive whatever he might give us in her mercy, we will always be overwhelmed by what he gives us. And when we are always overwhelmed by what he gives us, we are on our way to establishing this habit of his grace as we overwhelm others with the same forgiveness Jesus has lavished on us.

At the beginning I asked who we’d have to replace the woman with for this account to strike a chord with us today. Who would really get under your skin to see Jesus interact with and lavishly forgive? But the greatest takeaway from this account is not to leave you today feeling more like Simon, guilty for being selectively stingy with forgiveness. No, today see yourself as the sinful woman. Because that’s who you are in this account, by God’s grace. We are always the sinful woman, which is to say we are always the forgiven woman. Let Jesus speak to you daily the words he spoke to the woman: “Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you; go in peace” (v.48, 50). Then, let our love show that we are forgiven. We have been forgiven so, so much. Let us love as much as we forgive others. 

“Habits of His Grace: Patience”

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(Luke 13:6-9)

In what area of your life could patience make the greatest impact? Would your relationships be better off if you were able to slow down and not rush them along so fast? Would you lose your temper less? Would patience enable you to be a better listener? Would it help you make better decisions if you patiently thought things through a little longer? Most of us would see some sort of benefit in some way if patience was a little more prevalent in our lives.

As we consider this habit of his grace – patience – though, would you really find it all that valuable if I spent the rest of this post focusing on tips and tricks to help you become more patient in your life? Would “5 Steps toward More Patience” or “3 Things you Can Do Right Now to Practice Patience” radically impact your ability to be more patient? I don’t think so. The truth is, to help us become more patient we don’t need more information, but rather transformation. Real patience requires real change. And the good news is that Jesus is in the business of changing people. Jesus can transform us because Jesus alone can provide the patience we’re pursuing. 

Let’s start with where I think we most often tend to go wrong. When the matter of patience comes up, the way we frame the discussion around it is that we need more of it. We tell others they need to be MORE patient. As we reflect on an incident when we lost our cool, we tell ourselves we should have been MORE patient. But consider this: what if MORE patience isn’t the solution to the problem? Have you ever found yourself pressed for time, knowing you needed to jump in the shower before rushing to the next thing, but you just didn’t have the time? So what is the quick fix? Throw on an extra swipe or two of deodorant. Spray on a quick spritz of perfume or cologne. And it works… kind of… briefly… maybe. But not so well. You can try to cover it up, but inevitably the reminder that you didn’t actually shower has a way of coming back to haunt you later on at some point. In the same way, hoping that MORE patience will solve the problem is like a smelly teenager trying to cover up a bad case of B.O. with half a stick of deodorant – it doesn’t work! 

Why doesn’t it work? Because it doesn’t address the real problem. Just as the stink needs to be scrubbed away in the shower rather than covered up, so something else is needed rather than just thinking MORE patience will solve the problem. Do you want to know what the real problem is? Do you want to know what question you should be asking yourself, rather than “Why am I not more patient?” Instead of “How can I become more patient,” here’s the real question you ought to be asking: “Why am I so impatient in the first place?” That’s an entirely different question, isn’t it? So if we want to see more of this habit of his grace in our lives, if we want patience to prevail, the solution isn’t seeking how to add more of it; the solution must address the root problem – our impatience.

“How do I become more patient” is really asking “Why am I so impatient?” My guess is that as you wrestle with that question more, you will likely uncover a lie or two that you have been believing. Why is it hard for you to be patient with other people in general, even those you’ve never met? Might it be that the lie replaying itself over and over in your head is the lie that all your problems are someone else’s fault? If you actually believe that lie, of course it will be difficult to be patient with anyone else if you view everyone else as the cause of all or most of your problems. Why do you lose it so quickly with your children? Is it because you believe the lie that they should somehow be perfect, perhaps even stemming from your own upbringing under the impression that perfection was what your parents demanded? Why do you have so little patience with your spouse? Is it because you believe the lie that your spouse should be more like you by now, and every time you are reminded that they aren’t, you perceive it to be a deficiency instead of just a difference? No, the solution to our problem is not to cover up the stink of our impatience by adding more patience; the solution begins with determining the source of my impatience. That may very well mean uncovering a lie that you’ve allowed yourself to believe for too long.

While it’s easier and far more tempting to blame others for testing our patience or causing our impatience, if others were actually the problem, we’d spend the rest of our lives trying to fix something we can’t fix. You’d perpetually be impatient, because you cannot possibly fix everyone else who “makes you” impatient. But you can fix you. You can fix your impatience, if you are first willing to acknowledge that you are the real issue and not someone else. But if I continue to deny that the real issue is me and my impatience, I’ll never really address the problem in a way that will bring about meaningful change, and I’ll miss out on the grace that is able to make a real difference.

Consider the parable Jesus told. What was the real issue? Was the fig tree not given the opportunity to produce figs? Was it not planted in good soil? Was not enough time allowed? No, the tree had been given every opportunity to produce fruit, but failed to do so. The tree was the problem, not anyone or anything else! It wasn’t producing fruit. So as we apply this parable to the fruit of patience, we must take ownership and realize that whatever fruit of patience we’re looking for in our own lives is our own responsibility and not anyone else’s. The scary part of the parable is that as much patience as the landowner exhibits, even extending the life of the tree for one more year, there still was the very real possibility that failing to bear fruit resulted in being cut down. That is really the sobering reality of each of these habits of his grace – to realize that a failure to produce them in our lives gives the landowner – God – every right to cut down the trees that don’t produce!

Jesus, the master storyteller, has a way of making things very personal, and when he gets personal, he leaves his listeners with nowhere else to look but in the mirror at ourselves. If you look at the discussion which led up to Jesus telling this parable, he took it from a general question to a personal point. Tragedy had struck when Pilate had murdered some of the Galileans and disgraced the Jewish faith by mixing the blood of those murdered in with the blood of the animals scarfed in the Temple. Just as they do today, people at that time presumed that it must have been karma – for those people to be on the receiving end of such tragedy, they surely must have done something wrong to have had it coming. But Jesus quickly shut down that line of reasoning and made the whole thing very personal when he concluded, “But unless you repent, you too will all perish” (Lk. 13:5). 

What came next was the parable in these verses of our text. Rather than pondering the status of others who suffered in this way or that, Jesus said the real issue is where do you stand? What do your branches look like? Where is your fruit? And through the parable, Jesus wants us to take away two important points: 1 – God is very patient in looking for our fruit, and 2 – God’s patience with us has its limits. 

Notice that God patiently extended the time for the fruit tree to bear fruit! Isn’t that just like God? And why is he so patient? Peter explained it: “[God] is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). God is patient because he wants to save everyone. One of the points that came up in our recent discussion of the book, Rooted, was the honest struggle of reading the Bible – especially the Old Testament, because there are parts that drag along and simply aren’t all that exciting. But you know what the Bible is? A record of God’s patience. His people turn away, and God patiently sends one prophet after another to turn them back to him. His leaders display one sinful character flaw after another, and God patiently corrects and uses them anyway. God’s people turn away; God waits for his people to return. God is patient, so the parable captures that habit of his grace by providing more time for the tree to bear fruit. 

But notice this also: God appointed a limited time for the tree to bear fruit. It wasn’t open-ended. It wasn’t indefinite, until “some day.” It was one year in the parable. What does that one year represent for us? Right now! This very moment! For today might be day 364 of the one-year extension given to the tree to produce fruit. If so, then tomorrow is day 365 and the year is up. Time to cut down the trees that still aren’t bearing fruit! 

God is patient – don’t worry! God’s patience is limited – don’t wait! Both are true, depending on which message you need to hear. If we think little of God and his Word right now, don’t wait! If we are concerned about not measuring up before God, don’t worry – Jesus is our patience! 

John realized that. In the Book of Revelation he wrote, “I, John, your brother and companion in the suffering and kingdom and patient endurance that are ours in Jesus…” (Revelation 1:9). John recognized what the gospel leads us to recognize: in Christ, my impatience doesn’t disqualify me, for not only has that sin been paid for, but it has also been replaced by Jesus’ perfect patience. So my impatience has been paid for and replaced with Jesus’ patience! That means God does not judge you on the basis of your impatience, but rather on Christ’s patience, and his patience passes the test of perfection for you. 

Now then, go and bear the fruit of that patience. Your impatience has been forgiven. It isn’t who you are. In Christ you are patient, so let the repentant fruit of patience flourish on the branches of your life. We don’t have to cover up what we aren’t anymore. In Christ, we can blossom into what he has made us: patient. We have everything to gain in dealing with others patiently. And I believe that patience can be one of the most notable qualities that Christians can demonstrate today if we are going to show how attractive grace is, because patience is sorely lacking in our world right now. It is a precious commodity that is exhibited far too infrequently. So let us make the most of the time we have, the year we have been given to allow God to dig around us and fertilize us with his Word and Sacrament, that we might produce abundant fruit of this habit of his grace, patience.

“Habits of His Grace: Compassion”

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(Luke 13:31-35)

To faithfulness and determination on our list of habits of his grace, today we add compassion. What is compassion? Compassion changes people. It can change the way we look at others and treat them. Compassion can change those receiving it. It can change those extending it to others. 

Author Stephen Covey, in his book Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, shared a personal experience of his.He recalled one subway trip on a Sunday morning that was a rather quiet, uneventful ride. That ended when a man with obnoxious and loud children got on. As his children were being disruptive and terribly misbehaved, much to the annoyance of the rest of the crowd in the subway, the man himself seemed clueless and irresponsibly uncaring about his children’s behavior. That only made the whole situation even more disturbing to everyone else in the subway car. When he had determined enough was enough, the author turned to the man and, pointing out his children’s inappropriate behavior, asked if the father would intervene and do something about it. The man came to attention, as if he had been lost entirely in another place. He apologetically explained that he and his children had just come from the hospital where about an hour ago their mother had died, and he supposed that he and the children weren’t sure how to deal with it. In an instant, the author explained that frustration and irritation were washed away by a flood of compassion. It brought about a complete shift in perspective, away from selfish personal annoyance to an earnest desire to offer any assistance whatsoever to serve the man in his moment of need. Compassion changed everything. 

As Jesus provides us with the framework to explore this habit of his grace today, here is what I hope we take away: that in our reflection on compassion, we give a good amount of thought to the tension that exists between feelings and action as they pertain to compassion. Furthermore, depending on how we might be inclined to weigh in on that discussion right now, can we have a better understanding not only of the difference, but also of how we might personally need to lean one way or the other (more feeling or more action) in striving for more compassion in our lives? 

The root definition of compassion is “to suffer together.” While we think of it as an emotion or feeling that we experience when seeing someone else suffer, it’s a fair question to ask if one can truly suffer with another without any action being taken. Suppose each night for a week a different needy person knocked on your door asking for any food you could spare. While your heart went out to them each time, you explained that you were just not in any position to help them. As you later retell that story to someone else and explain how much compassion you felt toward those people in need, but that you didn’t do anything to help any of them, how convinced would the person listening be that your compassion was genuine? Isn’t it fair to say that as we describe ourselves, feelings of compassion are justified as sufficient, but as we look at others, frankly we’re not all that convinced unless their feelings lead to some sort of action? 

I don’t know if it’s unique to me or if many of us tend to do it, but I have found myself being sure to point out my good thoughts, intentions, or feelings to my wife and others, even – or maybe especially! – when I didn’t actually do anything. “I was going to” or “I thought about,” is then of course followed by some effort at providing an understandable, legitimate-in-my-own-mind reason for not actually doing the thing. Does “I was going to take out the trash” count the same as actually doing it? Is “I wanted to fix that clogged drain” pretty much the same thing as unclogging the drain? I think we know the answer. 

Actually, I suppose we acknowledge this must be a pretty common thing, as we have an expression that lets us off the hook a bit, right? “It’s the thought that counts.” But is it? Especially in our culture today, people are not satisfied with thoughts or good intentions. The only thing that is acceptable is when any action is taken. While this isn’t really the place to discuss social activism, it does raise a fair question about how genuine compassion really comes across if not accompanied by action. How much am I really “suffering with” someone else via feelings or emotions? Does compassion require action?

Do you notice something about compassion when we look at it in the life of Jesus? Compassion as Jesus demonstrated it resulted in action. Every time. In fact, at no point in any of the Gospels do we come across the word “compassion” in connection with Christ that doesn’t involve him doing something. The Gospel writers point out that Jesus felt compassion… and then describe what he proceeded to do. So while the literal definition of compassion is “suffering together,” what we see in Jesus are demonstrations that show the extent of his compassion by virtue of the action that follows. He had compassion on the hungry crowds, so he fed them (Mt. 15:32ff). He had compassion on people who were like sheep without a shepherd, so he taught them (Mk. 6:34). He had compassion on the sick and demon-possessed, so he healed them (Mt. 14:14). He had compassion on the blind, so he gave them sight (Mt. 20:34). Do you catch the theme? Compassion produces action. Say it with me: compassion produces action.

But… not just any action. And here’s where else compassion becomes a tricky thing. Suppose we are convinced that compassion produces action. What action? And for whose benefit? Here’s why we have to wrestle with it: if I am not careful, those good feelings that flow from compassion (Did you know studies reveal that experiencing the feeling of compassion does in fact release what we refer to as the “bonding chemical,” oxytocin?), may merely lead me to take action that makes me feel better. In other words, if the action that results from compassion is merely action that makes me feel better, but doesn’t really meet the need of the person for whom I feel compassion, am I really serving that person, or am I just serving myself?  

Let me explain with an example I believe I have shared before. Two years ago in this same month on a Friday, a young homeless man had come on to the property while hot lunch was being prepared for the school kids. Since we are very cautious about strangers on the property while school is in session, I engaged the young man and began talking with him on the bench outside the church entry. While there were some signs of mental and cognitive issues and a little paranoia, after several hours I got to know his name, his story, and he even showed me his Facebook profile. The longer we sat together, the more I found myself internally frustrated by the fact that this was not how I had planned to spend my day off. Finally, I started to explore how we could help, thinking the sooner I can move him along, the sooner I can get back to my day off. The usual offerings came to mind, so I asked if he needed food or clothes, or if there was someplace I could take him. Then he told me what he really needed, and that’s when I was faced with the ugly reality that my offer to help him was really an effort on my part to wrap up the inconvenience he was causing me. What did he need? A shower. A washing machine to wash his clothes. That was when I was convicted. I realized that while I had the ability to provide him with both of those, I wasn’t really interested in meeting his needs, but rather my need, my desire to be rid of him while convincing myself I did something nice for him. After thinking it through and realizing that my wife was working and the kids were at school, leaving our house empty, he spent the next couple of hours getting a shower and washing his clothes. After a meal and contacting a family member, I later took him to the trolley station to get where he needed to go. 

I had compassion on him, but never had I been so convicted that my compassion was extremely limited. It was defined more by what I was comfortable with than what he actually needed. I wasn’t interested in compassion that produced action in service to him, but rather in service to me. Now that does not mean that everyone would or even should do the same thing in that situation. Not at all. There would be some very legitimate reasons for another compassionate Christian not showing compassion the same way. The point is this: compassion does not necessarily start by asking what others would do in this situation, or even what I should do, but rather “What does this person need from me right now?” 

That was what was always on Jesus’ mind: what does this person need from me right now? And while his compassion didn’t hesitate to take action to address immediate needs, his heart was always set on meeting the most important need. Even when it came to his enemies. Whatever their intention truly was behind warning Jesus about Herod – whether they had ulterior motives for speeding up his demise in Jerusalem, or because they were genuinely trying to help Jesus avoid the same fate as John the Baptist – Jesus’ compassion poured out in his heartfelt response to them. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing” (v.34). And even their own rejection of him was not enough to sidetrack Jesus’ faithful determination to do what he was born to do! “In any case, I must press on today and tomorrow and the next day—for surely no prophet can die outside Jerusalem! (v.33). Compassion produces action. Faithful, determined Jesus would take action; he would suffer and die.

It’s interesting isn’t it – “compassion” has the word “Passion” in it? We refer to the final week of this season of Lent as Holy Week or Passion Week. That final Sunday, Palm Sunday, is sometimes also referred to as Passion Sunday. Why do we attach this label to that final Sunday and week of Jesus’ life? Because of his suffering that took place, his Passion. So Jesus’ compassion toward us would be of little value if it didn’t also include his Passion for us. It was his compassion that prompted his Passion, his suffering. Jesus wasn’t just about empty words for you. He wasn’t just about feelings or emotions regarding your situation. Jesus was about action – specifically, suffering, dying, and rising again for your sin and salvation. His compassion prompted him to carry out the one course of action that only he could, the one course of action that we all universally need, the one course of action that alone could serve to reconcile rebellious sinners with a righteous Father. Jesus’ heartfelt compassion carried him to the cross. 

Have you noticed something yet about the three habits of his grace that we have looked at so far yet? They all have that in common. They all end up at the same place: the cross. Faithfulness, determination, compassion – all of them meet up at the cross. And guess what? Spoiler alert: so do the remaining three habits of his grace. 

How then, do we establish in our own lives this compassion, this habit of his grace? We start by letting go of the lie, “It’s the thought that counts.” If we’re honest with ourselves, we’ve been far too comfortable living with that lie for far too long. Let’s either let it go, or at least be honest with ourselves that when we’re not willing to allow compassion to produce action, then it’s not really compassion. It might be sympathy or empathy, but it’s not compassion, because compassion produces action. And that’s OK – there is a time for empathy and a time for sympathy! Just realize they’re different from compassion. 

So how does the Holy Spirit work this habit of his grace into our hearts and lives more and more? Each time we must begin our journey of compassion at the cross and go from there. We start with the compassion Christ had for us. Then, as we leave his cross and look to pick up ours as faithful, determined disciples look to do, our eyes will suddenly see myriad ways to carry out compassion toward others, and the Holy Spirit will help us to see how he has enabled and equipped us in such a variety of ways not just to feel, but to act. Not out of guilt – remember Christ’s compassion removed that! – but out of real, genuine compassion. It changes us when we receive it. It will change others when we extend it. 

“Habits of His Grace: Determination”

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(Mark 8:31-38)

He wasn’t any more than eight years old when he was dragged unconsciously from a schoolhouse fire. The severe burns over the lower half of his body had the doctor convinced that he wasn’t going to live, or at least never regain the use of his legs if he did live. But he didn’t accept that his legs would never again support him. One time, after being rolled out into the yard in his wheelchair, he threw himself out of it and crawled across the lawn to the fence. He pulled himself up on the fence and began to drag himself along it. He repeated this exercise so frequently that he wore out a path. His resiliency paid off. 22 months after the tragic accident, he finally managed to stand up on his legs. After that, he walked. Then, he ran. And ran. And ran. And ran… until eventually he broke the world record in the mile. Glenn Cunningham, one of the greatest American mile runners, the badly-burned boy who wasn’t going to make it, who was never going to walk again, staked his claim in history because of his determination.

We love stories about determination. We love it when a person overcomes the odds and makes some monumental achievement. We cheer on others who aspire to persist in doggedly climbing mountain after mountain of failure until they reach the peak of success all the way at the top. Movies are made about such stories. Books are written about them. We eat it up. We can’t get enough of it. What is it about stories of determination that draw us in and capture us? Why does determination make for such an attractive trait? Maybe because it is so rare.

When is the last time you were determined to do something… and actually did it? We get inspired to take action. We have good intentions. We start strong. But the repeated ditched efforts in our lives reflect why determination is so rare. If you’re the resolution-setting type, how many of those have you managed to hit this year? How many “someday I’m gonna”s have you been stuck on, and for how many years now? How often have you traded in your determination to do this or that for settling for where you’re at? Why do we struggle with determination?

One thing that gets in the way of our determination? Distraction. We can let ourselves off the hook and blame those distractions on external factors, but that denies that we’re the ones who not only permit them, but actively seek them! We want to be distracted, because it’s far easier than being determined. I’ll say it again: we want to be distracted, because it’s far easier than being determined. Netflix needs me. Facebook flirts. The suddenly super important to-do list that has us whirling around the house like the Tasmanian Devil is – if we’re honest – a replacement for that other thing that we’re avoiding. The longer-than-normal phone call with the person I haven’t talked to in so long is really just another justified distraction. We welcome them all with open arms and we will continue to do so until we admit that it is no one’s fault but our own for allowing them to serve as distractions to determination.

Now it’s one thing if a person wants to stagnate through life denying that these distractions are his own fault, but there is a point when a lack of determination becomes an issue. When is that? When it impedes our relationship with Jesus. And remember that we’re not even talking about distractions that are themselves inherently sinful or wrong! Anything, anything – good or not – that reduces my resolve to maintain and make the most of my faith in Jesus has got to go. 

Satan used a perfectly understandable human concern of Peter’s in his attempt to use him as a distraction to Jesus’ determination. Jesus had explained to Peter the ugly reality of his impending rejection, his suffering, and his death. No one can blame Peter for not wanting to see Jesus experience that! None of us would have acted any differently in the same situation. But when Peter’s concern, normal as it was, threatened to hinder Jesus’ rejection, suffering, and death, it was no longer normal. It had at that point become an instrument of Satan to stifle the Savior’s necessary mission. “Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter. ‘Get behind me, Satan!’ he said. ‘You do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men’” (Mark 8:32-33). Peter didn’t realize it at the time, but if Jesus had heeded his rebuke and sidetracked his suffering and sacrificial death, Peter – and all the rest of mankind along with him! – would have ultimately had to suffer the far worse fate of eternal punishment for sin!

Jesus then seized that very moment to teach one of the most important lessons of all for his followers to learn: determination and discipleship are a package deal for Jesus’ followers. Are we determined not to lose what Jesus has already won for us? “Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: ‘If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?’” (v.34-37). 

Jesus said quite clearly we “must” deny ourselves. That’s a tall order in today’s self-serving culture! Why did you buy that thing? Because self wanted it. Why did you shatter the sixth commandment? Because self wanted it. Why did you cut someone else down with your words? Because self wanted to. Why have you remained so distant from Jesus, worship, and his Word? Because self has other interests that are more important. And it is to lives consumed with serving self that Jesus gives the warning of losing life – eternal life. 

The other part of what Jesus said is that we “must” take up our cross. But, in order for that to happen, have we ever realized that doing so may require that we first must let go of something else? How much can you carry? Are you carrying the right things? What good is it??? If it doesn’t serve your relationship with Jesus, do you need it? Is it really harmless upon further inspection, or is it leaving you carrying so much that you don’t have any extra hands to carry what matters, to pick up your cross and follow? And, are we carrying so much, piled up so high in our arms that we cannot even see Jesus to be able to follow him? Drop it. Let go of what doesn’t matter! It isn’t serving you if it isn’t serving your relationship with him. God help us if the qualification of being a disciple is measured by the perfect requirement of denying self and taking up our cross, for if so, we are doomed!

But always remember what Jesus taught first. “He then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again” (v.31). Jesus “must” suffer and “must” be killed because we can’t meet the “musts” that are required of us. We don’t have in us the determination to follow through. No amount of our own determination can save us from damnation. So Jesus stepped in with his “must.” He must do these things because we cannot. And he must do them because he wasn’t OK with the alternative of eternity in hell for anyone. So he must carry them out so that no one “must” go to hell. Even if it made Peter squeamish to think about him suffering and dying. He must.

And he did. Gaze up on Good Friday and see it. There he is. There is your Savior. There is the price of your salvation. There – that – is what determination looks like. 

The “must” has been met. Where our must is a mess, Jesus’ must is the only one we can trust. Jesus’ determination, this habit of his grace, has been carried out perfectly in our place. So we now look to make determination a habit in our lives. 

Jesus also said, “If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels” (v.38).  Shame over Jesus and/or his words in this generation is not because his words by themselves are so offensive, but rather because this adulterous and sinful generation has made them out to be by making acceptable what is unacceptable. The world chooses filth over faith and so makes faith out to be filth. It calls good, bad and bad, good. So Scripture’s teachings which at one time served as society’s moral compass have become black-listed. And we sense it when we feel as if we must apologize to others for holding to and believing certain truths. But stay the course! Remain determined! Be willing to lose our lives for the sake of the gospel, lest we lose both our lives and the gospel for the next generation!

We love stories about determination. Will our own be a story of determination? Will we let our Savior’s determination for us drive and direct our own? Will we add this habit of his grace to our tool belt, along with faithfulness? Will we combine the two – faithfulness and determination – to become a resolute force unafraid to face Satan? Will we set self down to free up our hands to pick up our crosses in pursuit of Jesus? May God’s grace galvanize all of us to make our mark in history as a time when Christ’s church, God’s people, you and me, displayed unparalleled divine determination!