Posts tagged ‘Religion’
A Life That Ended Too Soon…At 116 Years
Besse Cooper (Photo: David Goldman, AP)
Last Tuesday afternoon, Besse Cooper of Monroe, Georgia passed away peacefully. She was 116 years of age. She was also the world’s oldest woman.[1]
I was doing the math in my head. And though I don’t know her birthday so my I may be a year off on some of my calculations, I’m still pretty close. Besse Cooper was born in 1896. This means when the Titanic sank, she was sixteen. When the United States entered World War I, she was twenty-one. When the stock market crashed the Great Depression hit, she was thirty-three. When Pearl Harbor was bombed, she was forty-five. When John F. Kennedy was assassinated, she was comfortably settled into retirement at sixty-seven. When Apollo 11 landed, she was seventy-three. And when 9/11 rocked our nation, she had passed the century mark at one hundred and five.
As I thought back over all the events to which this woman had been witness, even if only from afar, I stood in awe. A lot of history happens in 116 years! And yet, even a life as long and robust and Mrs. Cooper’s is hardly a hairbreadth long in the eyes of the God who gives it. The Psalmist puts it bluntly: “Man is like a breath; his days are like a fleeting shadow” (Psalm 144:4). On the stage of history as a whole, 116 years occupies nary a dark corner.
Though the biblical writers may look at life as fleeting, they nevertheless do not resign themselves fatalistically to its end. Instead, they kick mightily against the truncated span of life. The prophet Isaiah notes that a life that lasts a mere century – or perhaps a little more – has not lasted nearly long enough! He yearns for a world where “he who dies at a hundred will be thought a mere youth” (Isaiah 65:20). Even one hundred years is not enough for Isaiah. He wants more.
Finally, the problem the biblical writers have has nothing to do with when life comes to end, but with that life comes to end. A life that ends – be that at ten days, ten months, ten years, or ten years times ten years – is a life that ends too soon. And indeed, this is true. For God, when He gave us life, intended life to be a gift we keep. He intended life to be a gift that lasts.
Sin, of course, had other plans. But this is why Christ came on a mission – to recapture and raise, by His resurrection, people who die way too soon. To recapture and raise, by His resurrection, people who die at all. Like Besse Cooper. May she rest in peace. But better yet, may she wake at the telos’s trumpet.
[1] Associated Press, “Woman, 116, listed as ‘world’s oldest’ dies in Ga.,” USA Today (12.5.2012).
The Marriage Recession
I’m not surprised, but I am saddened. A recent study conducted by the Pew Research Center confirms what we already know: the estate of marriage has been in decline now for decades and it continues to decline. Richard Fry summarizes the study’s findings:
In 2011, 4.2 million adults were newly married, about the same number as in 2010 and sharply lower than the 4.5 million newlyweds estimated in 2008…The decline in nuptials from 2008 to 2011 is in keeping with a general trend away from marriage in the U.S. Barely half of adults (51%) were married in 2011, according to ACS data, compared with 72% in 1960. Marriage increasingly is being replaced by cohabitation, single-person households and other adult living arrangements.[1]
Two things are striking about Fry’s summary. First, the rapid decline of married households from 1960 to 2011 is astonishing. It represents nothing less than a seismic shift in premium our culture places on marriage. Clearly, the value that people place on marriage has taken a precipitous fall. Second, Fry’s observation that “marriage is increasingly being replaced by cohabitation” is also tremendously significant, for it marks a radical departure from God’s ideal of a covenanted relationship between one man and one woman who share and confront life together (cf. Genesis 2:24).
Of course, there are some who applaud this shift away from marriage toward cohabitation as the inevitable unleashing of a long-suppressed epicurean desire that has finally managed to shake itself free from the asphyxiating antiquated constraints of Victorian mores. What these jubilant celebrants who eagerly preside over marriage’s funeral fail to notice, however, is the disturbing darkness that the decline of marriage reveals in the hearts of humans, not only as it pertains to sexual passions, but as it pertains to a basic lack of concern for others.
One of the blessings of marriage is the commitment it demands. Rather than arbitrarily living with someone to whom there is no formal, long-term, and, indeed, life-long commitment, marriage demands the kind of fidelity that does not shift with better times or with worse times, with riches or with poverty, with sickness or with health. The promises a person makes in his or her marriage vows are to remain firm even when everything else in life is in continual flux. Thus, marriage vows are not primarily for the benefit of the one who makes them, though there are certainly blessings to be found in God-pleasing vows, but for the one who receives what they promise, for the vows focus especially on the interests of the partner to whom they are made. A refusal to make these vows and instead cohabitate can allow some couples to unscrupulously hop from one relationship to the next, discarding any lover who a person feels no longer “meets their needs.” In its worst form, then, cohabitation can amount to little more than rank selfishness on display.
Ultimately, at the same time marriage forges our character, it also reveals our character. Marriage forges our character because it calls us to remain committed to another person even when our natural inclination would tend toward severing a relationship. Marriage reveals our character because whether or not we are willing to enter into such a relationship in the first place says a lot about how willing we are to trade our own self-interest for service to another. Marriage matters – not just because it safeguards the romantic relationships we have, but because it exposes the kind of people we are. My prayer is that more and more people commit to be individuals of fidelity and service rather than sensuality and selfishness.
[1] Richard Fry, “No Reversal in Decline of Marriage,” Pew Research Center (11.20.12).
The Exodus Belongs To Jesus
“The Israelites Leaving Egypt” by David Roberts (1830)
One of the things for which I am deeply grateful is the hard work of New Testament textual scholars who search out and study ancient copies of biblical manuscripts, comparing and contrasting their little differences, in order to try to discern what the oldest, best, and, hopefully, original reading of a biblical text may have been. The standard for wading through the myriad of texts out there for pastors and scholars alike is the Nestle-Aland Novum Testamentum Graece. Your English Bible, if it is of recent translation, is more than likely based on this Greek text.
When I was in seminary, Nestle-Aland’s Greek New Testament was on its twenty-seventh edition. Recently, the twenty-eighth addition hit the presses. And though there are many notable changes and improvements, one change rises above the rest. It is in Jude 5. The NIV translates the verse this way: “I want to remind you that the Lord delivered His people out of Egypt, but later destroyed those who did not believe.” Here, Jude hearkens back to God’s rescue of His people out of Egypt as well as their unfortunate subsequent destruction because of their rebellion. He references the exodus to warn his readers against those “who change the grace of our God into a license for immorality and deny Jesus Christ our only Sovereign and Lord” (Jude 4).
Interestingly, there has been a fair amount of dispute over the text of Jude 5. The NIV translates it according to the preferred reading of Nestle-Aland’s twenty-seventh edition. But the twenty-eighth edition makes an important change: “I want to remind you that Jesus delivered His people out of Egypt.” Rather than having “the Lord,” a title for God generically, deliver His people out of Egypt as the NIV translates it, the twenty-eighth edition of Nestle-Aland says this verse should read that it was Jesus specifically who led the people out of Egypt. Bruce Metzger, a world renowned textual scholar, notes that “critical principles seem to require the adoption of ‘Jesus,’ which admittedly is the best attested reading among Greek and versional witnesses.”[1]
The change from “the Lord” to “Jesus” is of inestimable significance, for it gives us an important window into the way first century Christians understood God’s work in Christ. Christ was no one new when He was born in Bethlehem; rather, He was older than creation itself. Indeed, He was active in creation itself (cf. John 1:1-3). And He has been active throughout the course of redemptive history, long before His incarnation.
Thus, wherever there is rescue, wherever there is salvation, wherever there is freedom, wherever there is hope – be that in the Old Testament or in the New Testament – there is Christ. Christ is present and active throughout all of Scripture. Christ led the charge out of slavery in Egypt for the Israelites and He leads the charge out of slavery in sin for us. Jude 5 says so.
[1] Bruce Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the New Testament, 3rd ed. (New York: United Bible Societies, 1971), 726.
Giving Thanks To The Lord
On this Thanksgiving Day, it is important to take some time and reflect not only on what we are thankful for, but on whom we are thankful to. As Christians, we give thanks to the Lord, for apart from Him and His grace, we would be left destitute. As James reminds us, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights” (James 1:17). Our heavenly Father provides us with not just some of the things we have, but with all of the things we have. He gives us “every good and perfect gift.”
In an age where Thanksgiving Day is sometimes reduced to little more than a general and foggy sentiment of thankfulness, Abraham Lincoln, in his Thanksgiving Day proclamation of 1863, offers this helpful reflection on whom we should be thankful to:
The year that is drawing towards its close, has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies. To these bounties, which are so constantly enjoyed that we are prone to forget the source from which they come, others have been added, which are of so extraordinary a nature, that they cannot fail to penetrate and soften even the heart which is habitually insensible to the ever watchful providence of Almighty God…No human counsel hath devised nor hath any mortal hand worked out these great things. They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens.[1]
May we heed Lincoln’s warning and never be “prone to forget the source from which [our blessings] come.” May we always remember and rejoice that our blessings come from God Almighty.
“Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good; His love endures forever” (Psalm 107:1).
[1] Abraham Lincoln, “Proclamation of Thanksgiving” (October 3, 1863).
Where is God in Natural Disasters?
Credit: Charles Sykes, Associated Press
$30 billion. That’s the amount of damage that Superstorm Sandy inflicted on just the state of New York. New Jersey is still tallying the cost of the storm for them. Of course, that is only the price of Sandy in dollars. The price of Sandy in human terms is much higher. More than 110 people lost their lives to the storm. There is also the suffering of the survivors. There is still no power in some areas. Gas, though no longer rationed, is still in short supply. People are still scavenging for basic supplies like toiletries and food. And residents are still picking up the pieces of their shattered homesteads.
Whenever a storm of such magnitude hits, many people begin to wax metaphysical and ask, “Why?” Why did this storm do so much damage? Why did this storm hit in the first place? Why did this storm hit me and ruin my life? Why?
Over the years, Christians have had no shortage of answers – some good and some not-so-good – to the question, “Why?” In Puritan New England, earthquakes were quite common. In 1727, an earthquake of 5.5 on the Richter scale struck the Boston area. In 1755, an even stronger earthquake of 6.2 struck. The pastors of that day took these earthquakes signs of God’s judgment and called people to repent of their sins, specifically the sin of greed. For these clergy, the answer to the “Why?” of natural disasters was quite: God was angry at unrepentant Puritans.[1]
Blessedly, the theological answers given today are usually more nuanced and biblically sensitive, though this is not always the case. (One thinks of Pat Robertson’s theologically inept comments following the Haiti earthquake of 2010 when he claimed the disaster specifically and Haiti’s poverty generally was the result of a pact that Haitians made the with the devil back in 1791.)[2] Generally, however, Christians do not subscribe to such a tit for tat theory of divine retribution. After all, the story of Job unmistakably undermines such a crassly simplistic and moralistic view of retribution.
So what is the answer to the “Why?” of natural disasters, at least as far as God’s involvement is concerned? Two points that will help us gain clarity concerning this question, even it is not fully answerable, are in order.
First, though it is treacherous to point to specific sins as causes of natural disasters, we can point to sin in general as playing a role in natural disasters. This much is clear simply by turning the story of history’s first sin. After Adam and Eve eat the forbidden fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, God says to Adam, “Cursed is the ground because of you…It will produce thorns and thistles for you” (Genesis 3:17-18). Thorns and thistles, hurricanes and tornados, earthquakes and blizzards are all due to the sinfulness of this world. Before the Fall, such things were of no concern. In this way, natural disasters are not natural at all, but unnatural results of sin.
Second, we must remember that our Lord is concerned about and helps those who suffer the devastating effects of natural disasters. I cannot help but think of the short, but poignant, story of Jesus’ disciples when they were caught in a violent storm:
Then Jesus got into the boat and his disciples followed Him. Without warning, a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke Him, saying, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!” He replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Then He got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm. The men were amazed and asked, “What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey Him!” (Matthew 8:23-27)
Jesus’ peaceful sleep while the waves are breaking over the bow of the disciples’ boat is a picture that grips me. For, on the one hand, such a picture encapsulates the feeling of many when a natural disaster devastates their lives. “Where was Jesus when this disaster hit? Why didn’t He stop it? It feels like He was sleeping on the job!” The disciples of the first century, just like us disciples of the twenty-first century, wrestled with such quandaries. But on the other hand, Jesus’ peaceful sleep can be of great comfort. For it reminds us that Jesus is not rattled or roused by the storms and disasters of this world because such storms and disasters have no power over Him. Quite the contrary. He has power over them! This is why, with one little word of rebuke, He can calm the raging wind and waves.
Because Jesus has prevailing sovereignty over creation, we can take refuge in Him, for we know that, even when natural disasters strike, Jesus has everything under control. As the Psalmist reminds us:
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. (Psalm 46:1-3)
The earth may give way, the mountains may fall, the storms may come, but this is still our Father’s world. He has it under His control and, even more importantly, He has it under His care.
Do not be afraid.
[1] For a brief history of the Puritan response to natural disasters, see John Fea, “Seeing the Hand of God in Natural Disasters,” Patheos Evangelical (8.31.2011).
[2] For Pat Robertson’s comments, see Ryan Smith, Pat Robertson: “Haiti ‘Cursed’ After ‘Pact to the Devil,’” CBS News (1.13.2010).
A Nation Divided
The headline I saw the day after last Tuesday’s election says it all: “The Divided States of America.” It’s true. We are a nation deeply divided. For evidence of this, I simply had to peruse my Facebook news feed. Wednesday morning, some people were ecstatic and even gloating. Other people were somber and even angry. What made the difference as to how these people felt? Two letters: “R” and “D.” The “D’s” won. And they were happy. The “R’s” lost. And they were, well, you get the picture.
The division in our nation unsettles me. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Remember e pluribus unum? Before 1956, when “In God we trust” was adopted, this was the de facto motto of our country. If only the Latin rang true. But it doesn’t. Partisanship prevails. When I survey our country’s political landscape, I see not e pluribus unum, but e pluribus plures. “Out of many, many.” We are many. And we act like it. We can’t seem to agree on much of anything.
I suppose it was bound to happen. Trying to unify disparate constituencies with such dissimilar ideologies is no small feat. And even if such a conglomerate of communities is unified for a time, such unity never lasts. For humans, thanks to sin, have a proclivity to fracture from each other rather than to walk with each other.
There is an old story about a man who is marooned on a desert island for nearly a decade. One day, mercifully, some rescuers finally come along. Upon arriving, the rescuers find two shacks. Thinking there is another castaway on the island, they ask the man, “Why are there two shacks? Is someone else with you?” “No,” replies the man. “I sleep under the stars. The shack is where I go to church.” “What about the other shack?” inquire the rescuers. “What’s that for?” “Oh,” replies the man with an edge of indignation, “That’s where I used to go to church.” E pluribus plures. It seems humans will always find a way to fracture from each other – even when there’s only one human.
Our nation wants unity. Our unofficial motto preaches it. But it continually eludes us. So what do we do? Where do we go from here?
As Christians, we go to Scripture. For like our nation, the authors of Scripture held unity in high regard. Consider the apostle Paul’s admonition: “Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:3). Paul wants us to have unity. The difference between Scripture’s call to unity and our nation’s motto of unity, however, is that whereas our nation takes the many and in vain tries to make them one, Scripture begins with One – God – and looks to Him to unify many. Paul continues in Ephesians:
There is one body and one Spirit – just as you were called to one hope when you were called – one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. (Ephesians 4:4-6)
Paul uses the word “one” seven times in these verses. For Paul knows that God’s dream and desire for us is that we would be “one” – that we would be unified. But rather than taking disparate, dissident factions and striving to unify them by human effort, Paul knows that God unifies people by beginning with Himself – the perfectly unified Godhead who can bring even the most dis-unified people together. True unity is found not in politics, but in our Lord.
Rally around Him.
Election Day 2012 – It’s Almost Here
Election Day is tomorrow. I am, as I’m sure you are, praying for our country and for her leaders. I am also praying that much of the fear that surrounds this election will be calmed by the peace of God that transcends all human understanding (cf. Philippians 4:7).
This week, my blog is a simple one. Yesterday in Adult Bible Class, I talked about Mark 12:13-17 with a special emphasis on what Jesus says about paying taxes and honoring God in verse 17: “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.” I wanted to put into transcript form (with some slight editing for the sake of readability) my conclusion from Adult Bible Class. For as we head into voting booths across our land, I think it’s important to reiterate what we talked about – that no matter who occupies the Oval Office, there is only one Occupant on the throne of heaven. And that alone should be enough to quell our fears and give us hope. Here is what I said:
I’m going to go on the record today and say that I think it’s time for us to have a smaller government. But when I say that – before you get too excited or too angry depending on your political persuasion – I’m not talking about tax policy and how we’re going to pay for this or that government program. I’m not talking about what social programs we should or should not keep. I’m not talking about whether we should be for or against the Affordable Health Care Act. I’m not talking about the size of government in Washington at all. I’m talking about the size of government in our imaginations. For government – and its attendant greatness or ghoulishness – has captured far too large a place in our hearts and minds.
Here’s what’s happened: whether Republican or Democrat, many people have bought into this myth that if the wrong guy makes it into office – which always happens to be the guy they’re not voting for – that’s the end of the line. That’s the demise of our nation. That’s the disintegration of everything good and moral and noble and righteous in our world. And people get all revved up and riled up, determined to save what is most important to them by getting their guy into office.
Folks, when this happens, you’re not voting for a president, you’re seeking a Messiah. And that job has already been filled.
I love what a New York Times columnist named Ross Douthat writes about this:
The party in power claims to be restoring American greatness; the party out of power insists that the current administration is actually deeply un-American – heretics in the holy temple of the U.S.A., you might say – and promises to take our country back…And the country keeps cycling through savior figures, hoping each time that this one will be the One that we’ve been waiting for.[1]
Folks, the One we’ve been waiting for has already come. And His name is not Barack Obama. His name is not Mitt Romney. His name is Jesus Christ. And, by the way, not only has He come, He’ll come again.
So cast your vote. Be a good citizen. But remember that even if Caesar gets the coins, Jesus holds your heart.
And that’s what matters most.
[1] Ross Douthat, Bad Religion: How We Became a Nation of Heretics (New York: Free Press, 2012), 269.
Being Pharisaical About Being Pharisaical
The other day, I came across an experiment. It was conducted by a Christian guy named Timothy Kurek who, by his own admission, wanted to “shock the Pharisee out of himself.” He had been raised with a quintessentially fundamentalist pedigree, even attending Jerry Falwell’s famed Liberty University as a college student. But something in his fundamentalist upbringing proved profoundly unsettling to him. So he left everything he had known and feigned coming out of the closet as a gay man to his friends and family in an effort to see how his Christian friends would respond to him. Some were loving. Others, sadly, but predictably, skewered him.[1]
As I learned about his experiment, I came to appreciate his moving and sometimes heart-rending experience. What I found somewhat troubling, however, was his characterization of the Pharisees. Tim spoke many of times of his “inner Pharisee” – this voice deep inside his soul full of accusations and vitriol. By the end of his journey, TIm went from having an inner Pharisee to calling himself a “recovering Pharisee.” Part of this journey seems to have included a radical change concerning his conception of sin. He is not nearly so comfortable calling things that have been traditionally called sins, “sins.” After all, this is what Pharisees do. They talk way too much about sin. And he doesn’t want to be like them.
This past weekend at Concordia, we talked about Jesus’ Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector. The Pharisee, in Jesus’ telling, represents everything we have come to hate about these religious elites. He comes across as arrogant, judgmental, and outright smarmy in the prayer he offers on the steps of the Jerusalem temple: “God, I thank You that I am not like other men – robbers, evildoers, adulterers – or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get” (Luke 18:11-12). This guy’s bluster is palpable. Yuck.
Did I mention the irony is also deep? Our reflexive response to this parable all too often sounds something like this: “God, I thank You that I am not like other religious hypocrites – Pharisees, Sadducees, creationists – or even like those unenlightened, bigoted fundies who attend Liberty University. I judge not and am smart enough to realize that my Christian witness to the world has to be nuanced and Huffington Post appropriate.”
Somehow, I’m not sure this is what Jesus intended for us to get out of this parable.
The problem with the Pharisee in Jesus’ parable was not that he was religiously conservative, nor was it that he was concerned with sinfulness. Both of those things are fine and, in many instances, even desirable. The problem was that this Pharisee trusted in the wrong righteousness – his own. Luke’s setup of Jesus’ parable makes this clear enough: “To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else, Jesus told this parable” (Luke 12:9).
Sadly, many people see the road to killing their inner Pharisee as one paved by downplaying certain sins, thereby demonstrating themselves in-tune and in-touch with our culture’s zeitgeist. But the road to killing our inner Pharisee cannot be paved in this way. Indeed, Jesus Himself was quite comfortable with much of what the Pharisees said about sin and, many times, thought they did not understand sin deeply enough. Just read the Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount or His discussion on human sexuality in Matthew 19:1-12 to see how seriously Jesus took sin. Killing our inner Pharisee is not about redefining sin, but about killing sin by the cross.
So let’s stop trying to slay Pharisees by diminishing sinfulness. That’s simply swapping one form of Pharisee-ism for another. It’s swapping a religious self-righteousness for a cultural self-righteousness. And that simply will not do. For we do not need self-righteousness, we need Jesus’ righteousness. Only His righteousness can cure a Pharisee and save a sinner.
Even a Pharisee and sinner like me.
[1] To learn more of Tim’s story, see Url Scaramanga, “Ur Video: Straight Christian Lives as Gay Man,” outofur.com (10.19.12) and “Timothy Kurek, Straight Christian Man, ‘Comes Out’ And Pretends To Be Gay For A Year,” The Huffington Post (10.13.12).
Eat Up!
In the 2001 remake of the famed heist film, Ocean’s 11, I found my favorite character to be Rusty Ryan, played by Brad Pitt. Do I like him because he has the raw street smarts to pull off a $150 million heist at three Las Vegas Casinos simultaneously? Nope. Do I like him because he is able to coolly keep his partner, played by George Clooney, in check when as he plans this job only to impress his ex-wife? Not really. The reason I like Brad Pitt is because, in almost every scene, Brad Pitt is found chowing down on some piece of junk food. Indeed, this turned into an intentional gag, as Pitt later himself admitted: “I started eating, and couldn’t stop. I don’t know what happened. It’s just the idea that you never have time to sit down and have a meal while you’re trying to pull off this heist, so my character is grabbing food all the time.” Now there’s a man after my own heart. He starts eating and he can’t stop. I know the feeling.
In Luke 14, Jesus seems to be always eating. The chapter opens: “One Sabbath, Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee” (verse 1). From there, the food motif continues. Jesus tells a parable: “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited” (verse 8). He then follows up this food-based parable with another meal metaphor: “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid” (verse 12). What is Jesus’ obsession with food? Is this some kind of intentional gag?
It is indeed intentional, but it is certainly no gag. The majority of people in the Ancient Near East subsided on next to nothing. That is, rather than having a super-abundance of food, they lived on scarcity. One famine, one drought, or one natural disaster could kill hundreds of thousands of people because they had few reserves in place to stymie a crisis. Thus, the Old Testament prophets would often promise a day when people would no longer have to contend with these restricted resources. They would speak of a day of feasting. The prophet Isaiah writes, for instance, “The LORD Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine – the best of meats and the finest of wines” (Isaiah 25:6). The Psalmist promises likewise: “Those that be planted in the house of the LORD shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be fat and flourishing” (Psalm 92:13-14). In our day, a promise of fatness is hardly desirable. But in the first century, when food was scarce, a promise of fatness was a promise of provision. It was a promise of a lavish feast.
When Jesus speaks of several feasts in Luke 14, He is saying: “I am the fulfillment of God’s provisional promises. With Me, God’s feast has come!” This is why Jesus continues with yet another parable on food:
A certain man was preparing a great banquet and invited many guests. At the time of the banquet he sent his servant to tell those who had been invited, “Come, for everything is now ready.” But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said, “I have just bought a field, and I must go and see it. Please excuse me.” Another said, “I have just bought five yoke of oxen, and I’m on my way to try them out. Please excuse me.” Still another said, “I just got married, so I can’t come.” (verses 16-20)
It is important to understand that the excuses these guests offer as to why they cannot attend this king’s feast are offensive and disingenuous. To turn down any invitation to share in a meal, much less to share in a lavish feast such as this one, would have been unthinkable in that day. But this is what these ungrateful invitees do. Thus, the king responds by ordering his servant: “Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame” (verse 21). This king, one way or another, will have guests at his feast. And these marginalized people will certainly not turn down the king’s invitation. And indeed they don’t. They come to the king’s feast. But even after they come, the servant returns to his king and says, “Sir, what you ordered has been done, but there is still room.” (verses 21-22).
I love these words. Even after the poor, the crippled, the blind, and lame fill the king’s banquet hall, there is still room. There is still room for more feasters. There is still room for more banqueters. There is still room.
The king in the parable, of course, is Jesus Himself. And the invitees to Jesus’ banquet are you and me. We are invited to share in Jesus’ feast of salvation. And here’s the good news: There is still room. There is still room enough for you to share in God’s salvation. There is still room enough for you to share in God’s grace. There is still room enough for you to share in God’s forgiveness. There is still room enough for you. So come to Jesus’ feast and share in His goodness. After all, there is still room enough at His table…just for you.
Kicking Back
They’re doing terribly this year. My fantasy football team, that is. Last weekend, my quarterback, Ben Roethlisberger, scored an underwhelming grand total of fourteen points. My wide receivers are putting more points on the board than he is. To add insult to injury, the other day, I caught a few minutes of a game on ESPN Classic when Roethlisberger was still in college playing for Miami University in 2003. I wish he played now the way he played then.
Most people know that I am a football fan. There is nothing like kicking back on a Sunday afternoon taking in an NFL game or two, dozing in an out of consciousness, especially since my Sunday mornings, as a pastor, are generally action-packed! And of course, I love watching my beloved Longhorns take on their toughest rivals. The pageantry and suspense of college football is unlike anything else.
I’m not the only one who loves a good football game. The NFL’s popularity has been rising steadily and startlingly over the years, this year reaching an all time high of 59 percent of Americans who say that they follow professional football according to an annual Harris Poll.[1]
As a football fan, I would be the first to say that there’s nothing wrong with following the game. I would also add that there’s nothing wrong with all sorts of other things people do to kick back and relax – from golfing to finding your favorite movie on Netflix to fishing to surfing the internet. And yet, if these are the only ways we spend our leisure time, we are cheating ourselves out of something transcendent.
The Lutheran theologian Gene Edward Veith wrote an article recently titled, “The Purpose of Work.” In it, he noted a disturbing trend in the way Americans view their leisure time:
In our culture today…most people probably do not use their leisure to contemplate the good, the true, and the beautiful. Our leisure is filled with more entertainment than contemplation.[2]
Veith’s last line is key. When we find leisure only in what entertains us – be that a football game or a golf outing or a movie or a fishing expedition or a favorite internet site – we miss the more profound blessings that leisure has to offer. For a bit of contemplation – on family, on work, on friends, and, most importantly, on God – can yield key and transformative insights for life and engender a thankful heart for all the blessings God has given. But first, we need to take time away from being entertained to think and to thank God.
The Bible’s portrait of leisure can guide our us on our journey from liesure as solely entertainment to liesure that includes contemplation:
Observe the Sabbath day by keeping it holy, as the LORD your God has commanded you. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your ox, your donkey or any of your animals, nor the alien within your gates, so that your manservant and maidservant may rest, as you do. Remember that you were slaves in Egypt and that the LORD your God brought you out of there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. Therefore the LORD your God has commanded you to observe the Sabbath day. (Deuteronomy 5:12-15)
Notice that in Israel, the celebration of the Sabbath – a day to rest from the work of the week – is specifically tied to contemplation. The Israelites are to remember their slavery in Egypt and how God brought them out. For Israel, leisure was not just time to be entertained, it was time to spend with God.
How do you spend the bulk of your leisure time? Entertainment is good, but not when it comes at the expense of reflecting on your life and on your Lord. After all, He is the One who gave you that leisure time in the first place. As the Psalmist reminds us, “God gives rest to His loved ones” (Psalm 127:2). Maybe you should use your leisure rest not just to be entertained, but to say “thank you” to God.
[1] Michael David Smith, “Poll finds NFL more popular than ever,” NBC Sports (10.6.2012).
[2] Gene Edward Veith, “The Purpose of Work,” The Gospel Coalition (10.7.2012).
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