Month: October 2022

Asking – and Answering – the Question That Matters Most

adbLeave a comment

(Luke 18:18-30)

A great question can have a huge impact in a variety of settings. One of the qualities of exceptional leaders is that they ask great questions. In being coached and in coaching other pastors, the value of great questions that force hearers to reflect deeply or differently cannot be overstated. In the classroom, students learn well when teachers ask great questions and teachers can better tune in to the learning needs of students when students ask great questions, too. 

In Luke 18, Jesus was faced with a great question. In fact, Jesus was asked the greatest question anyone can ask: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” (v.18). There is no question more important than this one. It both acknowledges an afterlife and also seeks out assurance for what happens to us after we die. This question assumes there is more than just this life and the one asking it wants to be confident of his place in the life to come. 

As great a question as this most important question is, it’s also terribly frustrating that precious few people are asking it today. Why is that? If it is the most important question- and it is – why aren’t more people asking it? It would be lovely to conclude that more people aren’t wrestling with it because they are already confident of the answer.

But sadly, a much more likely reason is that they are simply indifferent to the answer. They don’t care. Perhaps some have thought about what happens when they die and may or may not have their own answers, but so many are perfectly content not giving this most important question the time of day. Chalk it up to the same level of indifference our culture has with so many other important matters. Meanwhile, we wouldn’t dare miss out on the “important” stuff like a scathing sports tweet, the latest celebrity hook-ups or break-ups, or some political rant.

But, rather than lament why so many in our society are content to stick their head in the sand rather than wrestle with this question, let’s focus on you. Are you asking the question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” More importantly, are you confident in your answer? As our faith increases, so does our confidence in the answer to that question. 

Speaking of confidence, the man who approached Jesus in this chapter of Luke didn’t seem to lack it. Yet, while he certainly seemed to have confidence in his own standing, there’s no reason to presume he was being disingenuous or that he had some agenda in asking the question. He was asking the right question, the question that matters most. And he wanted to be sure of the answer.

Jesus’ initial response isn’t what we might expect. One might suppose that Jesus could have answered the ruler’s question very simply: “Believe that I am the promised Savior and eternal life is yours.” That would have made for a short and sweet encounter and the man may very well have gone on his way.

But the man would have gone on his way with a jaded idea of what was required for heaven. As we see his dialogue with Jesus play out, the man had a misplaced confidence in his own efforts. And as far as salvation is concerned, when man’s efforts – whether they be great or small – are combined with God’s grace, the result is hell. There is no room in the salvation equation for works plus anything else. So Jesus didn’t give him the good news of the gospel, for it would have done more harm than good. The man first needed to see how much he needed Jesus.

That may also have something to do with why Jesus initially keyed in on the term “good.” Jesus wasn’t trying to avoid the man’s question. In fact, he was likely prompting him to think very carefully about what significance he was attaching to the term “good” in addressing Jesus that way. However, regardless of what the man’s intent was in using that description, look at Jesus’ response: only God is good. 

That should have made something clear to the man asking what he must do to get to heaven (in other words, “How good do I have to be?”): no one is good enough. But he missed the point, as made clear by his response to Jesus bringing up the commandments: “All these I have kept since I was a boy” (v.21). While the overconfidence oozing from the man’s reply is obvious to us, based on his upbringing and understanding of the law, he probably legitimately figured he was measuring up to God’s expectations for him.

There’s a part of us that is right there with him. “You know the commandments: ‘You shall not commit adultery, you shall not murder, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother.’” (v. 20). We’ve mostly kept those commandments, on the big stage, at least. Sure, a few small things here and there, but all-in-all, when we think of how others demolish these laws with their sins, we’ve only “bumped into” them a bit. No affairs. No murders. No breaking and entering or grand larceny. No lying under oath. No dishonoring our parents in a way that tarnishes the family name. See, it’s not so hard for our thinking to line up quite well with the self-righteous ruler, is it? 

So Jesus does him a favor and makes a more pointed application of the law. Jesus pointed out that he was still lacking something: he needed to sell his stuff.

To understand how Jesus was helping the man diagnose his sin, consider a visit to the doctor to treat an ankle injury. Suppose you injured your ankle and wanted to see if it was broken. How helpful would it be for the doctor to ask you to move your elbows or your knees to see if something was amiss? How helpful would it be for him to apply a little bit of pressure to different spots on your forearm, asking each time if that hurt at all? In order for him to be able to help you, he’d have to be treating the right part of your body. 

Jesus did just that by applying pressure to the ruler’s spiritual sore spot: his wealth. And Jesus’ effort hit the mark. “[Jesus] said to him, ‘You still lack one thing. Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.’ When he heard this, he became very sad, because he was very wealthy” (v.22-23). The man’s reaction demonstrated that the law accomplished its purpose. It exposed his sin. It showed where the man’s heart truly was. It didn’t belong to God. It belonged to his stuff, and his sorrow showed it.

Had the man measured up to the kind of goodness required for heaven, his response would have been delight. “Is that it? What a great opportunity it will be for me to richly bless the less fortunate, for I have far more than I need. I will gladly give away every penny of my wealth so that it can serve those in need.” For an example of this, see Zacchaeus’ response to Jesus and the good news. The gospel prompted Zacchaeus’ generosity. But in this case, the law had a completely different effect on the ruler. It prompted his despair.

The man seemed like a prime candidate for heaven, based on his own confidence in having kept the law, but now Jesus was saying it was easier for a camel to thread the eye of a needle than for a guy like this to get into heaven. Understandably, that shocked those listening. “Those who heard this asked, ‘Who then can be saved?’” (v.26). Jesus’ hearers must have concluded that if it’s impossible for a pretty upright fellow like that to get into heaven on his own, then what chance of eternal life does anyone else have?

And that is exactly where God wants everyone to be at some point in his life. Hopeless. Helpless. Having the realization that nothing we could ever hope to do and nothing we could ever hope to be is enough to assure us of eternal life. On our own, we are… on our own. The awareness of our inability to be good enough, to try hard enough, to be enough leaves us absolutely and completely desperate. 

To those who have been there, who have experienced that, the words of Jesus that come next are life and deliverance. They are hope. They are just what despairing hearts and ears long to hear: “Jesus replied, ‘What is impossible with man is possible with God’” (v. 27). What is impossible with man? The ability to save himself. What is possible with God? Salvation. 

And it isn’t just possible. It isn’t just plausible. God actually did it! God did what the rich ruler couldn’t. He did what we couldn’t. He got the job done – completed it 100%.

How refreshing in a half-done and undone society like ours! We hire a contractor for this or that project, and only 90% of the job is done, yet he claims he’s finished. The coworker or classmate submits their portion of the work or assignment that is “mostly” done, leaving you to finish it up. Into a “partially-done-is-good-enough” world, God came in the flesh and completed 100% of what was necessary for our salvation, from start to finish. 

Unlike the rich ruler, Jesus didn’t have to fudge the law’s standards just to pretend he had kept most of the commandments, but he kept every one. Unlike our best efforts at trying to make up for wrongs, which could not even on our best day come close to paying for even the smallest sin, Jesus paid for every sin with his very life. And the impossible continued when he defied death and rose to life again, making the impossible possible and guaranteeing our resurrection, too. What is impossible with man is possible with God. Indeed, it has been accomplished in full by God. 

So we have the answer to the question we must ask, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Not a thing. Jesus did the impossible. Jesus did it all. Believe it. 

Work with What You’ve Got

adbLeave a comment

(Luke 17:1-10)

How would you know? Our series theme is “Lord, Increase Our Faith.” It’s a nice enough-sounding theme. It sounds churchy, like the kind of thing we should be asking for. It has a nice enough graphic to accompany it and a quality bumper video to promote it. But how would you know if it actually happened? At the end of this month, or several months from now, or several years from now, how would you know if a person’s faith has increased? More to the point, how would you know if your faith increased? 

A person will be different. What do we really mean when we say that? We mean they act differently. They don’t do the same things or say the same things they used to say. They are different. Isn’t that how we’d tell if someone’s faith increased?

After all, we don’t have a meter that indicates our faith level. Unlike your phone or another screen that has a little battery icon indicating how much power you have left, your faith has no such indicator. Although, that would be pretty slick if we just had an app or widget on our watch or phone that showed where our faith levels were registering. But we don’t. So how do we know? We see it when behavior changes, when we act differently than we used to, when we don’t do the same things we used to do. 

Realize that that is going to cause a little bit of tension in this series. God’s Word stresses over and over that we are not saved by what we do, by our obedience or righteousness, or by our good works. Yet it’s actually what we do, our obedience and righteousness, and our good works that are all metrics by which we gauge faith! So our works don’t save us – faith alone does – but if we want to see growth in faith, it will show itself through the works that we do. And as far as works go, Jesus directs his disciples to work on three of the more challenging things Christians are called to do.

First, while he acknowledges that in a fallen world, there will be circumstances that cause people to sin, he tells his disciples – he tells us – don’t you be the person who causes others to sin. “Things that cause people to sin are bound to come, but woe to that person through whom they come. It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin. So watch yourselves” (v.1-3a). Better to die by drowning than to cause someone else to sin? Apparently, Jesus thinks sin – and leading others into sin – is a huge deal! 

But we don’t always see it that way, do we? In fact, we become quite good at dismissing our own sin, and downplaying the impact it may have on others. What’s more, whether directly or indirectly, we can even end up encouraging others with certain sinful behaviors. When the line between an occasional drink and drunkenness becomes so blurred for us that we nonchalantly invite others to join us in that sin, Jesus offers us the option of a millstone instead. When we steal from subscription services by sharing passwords with others and nudging them to do the same, Jesus holds out a millstone to us. When we are raving about violence, gore, or sex on the screen and promoting it to others as something “they have to see,” there is Jesus again with his millstone. If Jesus sees sin as such a serious threat, our eyes of faith should see it that way, too.

And when we see sin as the serious threat that it is, the second challenge Jesus issues to us makes even more sense. “If your brother sins, rebuke him…” (v.3b). If sin is serious – and there’s nothing more serious! – then pointing it out and rebuking it is a life and death matter. So not only do we have to watch out that we don’t cause others to sin, but we also have a responsibility to call out sin and rebuke it. 

What makes this so difficult? There are two dangers we want to avoid: relishing the rebuke or refusing to rebuke. We relish the rebuke when we designate ourselves spiritual sleuths, sniffing out every possible sin we can in others, not because we care for their souls and spiritual health, but because we delight in sounding the alarm on their sin. If we enjoy pointing out the sins of others, that’s a pretty strong indicator that we’ve got as much to be concerned about in our own hearts as we do anyone else.

The second danger to avoid is refusing to rebuke. This can happen for any number of reasons. We are overly concerned about coming across as judgmental or hypocritical, so we remain silent. Or, we are concerned that doing so will sour the relationship we have with the other person if we rebuke sin (ignoring the fact that it is actually sin – not the rebuke of it – which damages relationships in the first place!). In either case, failing to lovingly rebuke a brother or sister in Christ is really prioritizing our own reputation over someone else’s salvation.

Jesus has called us to do two challenging things: not causing others to sin and then rebuking the sin we see in others. But wait – there’s more! 

The third challenging action Jesus calls us to take is supremely difficult. “If [your brother] repents, forgive him. If he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times comes back to you and says, ‘I repent,’ forgive him” (v.3c-4). Did you see how many conditions Jesus attached to his charge to forgive? Count them all up and let me know how many you get. If your total is zero, you counted correctly. There are none. No conditions. When someone sins against you and apologizes for it, you have one response: forgive them. That means the number of times they sin and repent should end up equal to the number of times you forgive them.

These three responsibilities we have as Christians are hard things! So the disciples’ response comes as no surprise at all. “The apostles said to the Lord, ‘Increase our faith!’” (v.5). That’s a completely understandable response from someone who realizes how tall the task is. It’s a natural request for any Christian who is well aware of the difficulty level of the three things Jesus just urged them to do. It shows something pretty remarkable about those listening to Jesus: they knew their faith had room to grow and they knew Jesus was the one to grant that growth.

The apostles’ response would be an appropriate response for us, too, wouldn’t it? “Lord, what you ask of me is no small thing, and I don’t have it in my to carry it out, so give me what I need to follow through!” But that isn’t always our first response. Maybe sometimes it is. But other times we simply dismiss what Jesus asks of us, if we’re honest. It’s hard, we don’t like hard things or struggling to change into what God calls us to be, so we just don’t do it.

That describes a pretty good chunk of Christians, doesn’t it? They are today right where they were a year ago, three years ago, ten years ago, and frankly, they aren’t that interested at all in the hard work of growing in their faith. But if we have one takeaway from this series, maybe it could be this: healthy things grow, and if we aren’t growing in our faith, what does that say about how healthy we really are?

We might have expected Jesus to respond by leveling up the faith of the apostles right then and there. But instead, Jesus’ response at first appears a bit cryptic. “He replied, ‘If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, “‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’” and it will obey you” (v.6). He doesn’t say, “OK, I’ll do it.” Instead, he brings up a mustard seed and replanting a mulberry tree in the sea.

Wait, what? The disciples just asked for an increase in faith and Jesus responds by talking about a tiny, itty-bitty faith as small as a mustard seed. And who uproots a mulberry tree to send it into the sea? What gives? What is Jesus saying to us as we consider his statement?

Think about it like this. I don’t mind the dad role of getting to play clean-up when kids don’t finish their food. All in all, it’s really a pretty good gig. However, what I don’t have much patience for is whining about getting more when you haven’t finished what you started with. After all, that’s often how the leftovers end up left over anyway. They don’t only happen when a child doesn’t like the food, but also when a child likes it so much that they’re sure they want more piled onto their plate. Then they end up with a full stomach and a good portion of food left on their plate. They request more before they’ve even finished what they had.

That’s the issue Jesus is addressing regarding our faith: why ask for more faith if we haven’t fully tapped into what we’ve already been given? Jesus’ point is that we stop focusing on asking for more faith until we start focusing on putting the faith we already have to work. The issue isn’t that you need more faith, but rather that you aren’t tapping into what even the slightest amount of faith can do.

This all should actually make perfect sense to us, too, shouldn’t it? Good theology emphasizes that it isn’t how much faith a person has that saves her, but rather the object of that faith. So big faith or small, when Jesus Christ is the object of that faith, it’s a saving faith!

That’s why your faith is capable of so much – not because your faith is so great, but because Jesus is! Jesus already secured our salvation. Jesus already fills us with forgiveness. Jesus already perfected the three earlier challenges he tasked us with. Jesus already lived and died and rose. Jesus already did everything. 

And Jesus still does everything. It’s still Jesus who does through you whatever you have in mind to do. It’s still Jesus – the object of your faith and the fuel for your faith – who can do magnificent miracles with even a minute, mustard-size faith. 

Think of how complex your phone is. Most of us use it for a handful of things, but it is capable of doing far more than most of us will ever use it for! That’s OK for your phone, but does that sound OK for your faith? Your faith – as it is right now – is capable of far more than you are using it for. Yes, it locks in heaven for you, but it can also move mountains in the meantime until you get there!

So let that be the first thing in this series. Whatever you have in mind to do, whatever you’re waiting for a greater faith to accomplish, whatever you think requires a significant spike in some non-existent faith meter before you can proceed… get to it. Do it. Today. Tomorrow. The next day. Don’t wait for your faith to increase. Put the faith you have right now to work right now. Watch God increase your faith as your faith-filled efforts continue to be fueled by your faithful Savior and his almighty Word.