Invitational Living

Do you remember bull sessions? At least that’s what we used to call them when I was in college. We were around 18 to 22 years old. We used to sit and talk late into the night, figuring out what we believed about the meaning of life. We were laying the foundation for the rest of our lives, whether we knew it or not.

“Well, my friend, we’re older, but no wiser.” We don’t talk much about the meaning of reality; we’re too busy surviving – working, preparing for retirement, or retired and crossing off items on our bucket list. We don’t have much time for deep discussions about life, but of course our questions remain. We still wonder what it all means, and as we get older, we wonder even more.

One Option

There is a dominant answer in our society – that is, life is meaningless. Many people assume that there is no real meaning to life, so they live for the moment and enjoy what we can do today.

Some of you may have read a delightful and funny exposition of this point of view: The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Douglas Adams wrote the first part of this multi-volume series in 1978, and now it has expanded to six books, retelling the same story in various contradictory versions. The first book of this fantasy series presents the idea that a supreme race of philosophers built a gigantic super-computer (named “Deep Thought”) to answer the question of “life, the universe, and everything”. After several million years, the computer spits out the answer: 42. The philosophers are upset, but the computer reminds them, “You only asked for the answer. You didn’t ask for the question.”

Deep Thought then builds them an even greater organic supercomputer (“whose merest operational parameters I am not worthy to calculate” – sound familiar?), which turns out to be the earth. Finally, we find out the question: “What do you get if you multiply six by nine?” Of course, the answer is not 42. Life does not add up. Reality has no meaning.

A side note: A quick exploration of Wikipedia gives a variety of other explanations for this juxtaposition of question and answer. What I have said here is my own view, which is consistent, I believe, with the larger work of The Hitchhiker’s Guide.

Douglas Adams is often extremely funny (depending on your sense of humour), and his books are fun to read, but the basic message – life is meaningless – can paralyze us.

Another Option

Jesus tells his parables to describe the kingdom of God. When Jesus describes “God’s Reign”, he is letting us know what the fabric of the universe we live in looks like. In our parable this morning, and in the parables surrounding it, Jesus describes the way that God relates to humankind, whom God made, and indeed to the whole of creation.

This parable appears in a section of Luke sometimes called, “The Road to Jerusalem”.  From Luke 9:51 (As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem) until the “triumphal entry” described in Luke 19, Jesus is walking to Jerusalem with his disciples. As they walk together, Jesus teaches them the central message of the gospel.

The parables, with their description of God’s Reign, contain the central message of the gospel. The good news is that Jesus has come as God’s Chosen Messiah, and that all who repent (turn away from their own path to walk in God’s path) become part of God’s Reign.

What does God’s Reign look like? Or, to put it another way, what does the God who reigns look like? From our parable, and from the parables surrounding this passage, I note three basic characteristics of God, and of God’s Reign.

1. God is Joyful God

This image of a banquet or feast at the end of time comes from Isaiah 25: 6 to 8 and is repeated in various places, including Revelation 19: 6 to 9. The image of a banquet or feast conveys joy, and indeed joy is a fundamental quality both of God as God and of our life in God.

The old hymns say it well:

It is joy unspeakable and full of glory, Full of glory, full of glory;

It is joy unspeakable and full of glory, Oh, the half has never yet been told.

Or, if you prefer Keith Green: “I’ve got a river life flowing out of me …” Pure joy!

Paul says it clearly, writing from prison in Philippians 4: “⁴ Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: rejoice! ⁵ Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. ⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷ And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

It follows that God’s people live lives of joy. We live often in difficult circumstances full of loss and hardship. But the underlying current of our lives is “joy unspeakable, and full of glory.” Too many people think that Christians are sober, with no laughter or fun. You remember the old children’s game: “Quaker Meeting has begun, no more talking, no more fun. No more chewing chewing gum. Starting now...” Then everyone keeps completely quiet; the first person to smile or laugh or talk loses the game.

That jingle makes a neat children’s game, but it does not describe life in Christ. We are people of joy. You know how joy works. When a loved one dies, if the relationship was good and the deceased person deeply loved, laughter rises as the family gathers and grieves. Joy bubbles along beneath the surface of tears. Joy does not remove our grief, but rather joy allows us to grieve more fully; joy heals us.

An implication of living with joy is that we work against anything in this world that strips people of joy. The exercise of power against marginalized people robs them of their joy; therefore, such abuse works against God’s Reign. As people of joy, we walk with the marginalized and dispossessed because they are also part of God’s banquet. That thought is clearly echoed in the parable as the master sends his servants out to gather the marginalized from the highways around his house.

A Side Note: I add that when we identify with the marginalized, we often find that they know the joy of the Lord better than we do. They teach us to know the God of Joy!

2. God is a Seeking God

Jesus pictures God as one who seeks the lost. That note comes through more clearly in the parables that follow in Luke 15, but it is present here also in our parable. The servants go out into the roads around the master’s house seeking guests for the banquet.

If we examine ourselves carefully, we could tell stories of how God sought us and brought us into God’s family. My grandfather used to remember how he gave his life to Christ as the congregation sang the parable found in Luke 15: “There were ninety and nine that safely lay in the shelter of the fold, but one was out on the hills away, far off in the distant cold.” He knew that he was that lost sheep, and he knew that Jesus had sought him and found him.

God wants us also to be a seeking people. We keep our eyes and hearts open to the needs of people around us. As God sought for us, we seek also for others who are in need. Our parable reminds us to live with open hearts and open hands, ready to help whoever needs our help.

3. God is an Invitational God

We come to the third characteristic I note this morning. This is the one you see in our title. I suggest that this quality builds on and expresses more fully the first two we have seen. God invites us to life. God invites us to eternity with God. God invites all people to the Great Wedding Feast of the Lamb and to build our lives on God’s constant presence active within.

God’s invitation goes with God’s seeking. God seeks the lost sheep in Luke 15 and carries it home. The invitation of Luke 14 reminds us that the lost sheep can in fact refuse the invitation. The first guests in the parable say “No” to the master’s invitation. In Matthew 22, Jesus tells another parable about the Messianic Feast at the end of time. Here also the master sends the servants in the streets to bring in the marginalized people of the world; this time one of these people comes, but he does not prepare for the feast. He is in turn thrown out of the banquet.

This act of judgment reminds us that the invited person can refuse the invitation. It doesn’t matter if the refusal gives plausible excuses or bad excuses; any refusal on our part excludes us. However the guest says no, refusing the invitation excludes the invited guest. This is a sobering and difficult truth, but it is true.

A side note: The excuses of Luke 14 are a mixture of plausible and implausible. The first excuse (I bought a field) may suggest the world of business – but it would be a bad buyer who had not checked the field before buying it! The new team of oxen suggests farming, but again, what kind of farmer would buy a piece of equipment before checking it out? The third excuse – I just got married – has the weight of Scripture behind it. Deuteronomy 24: 5 states: “If a man has recently married, he must not be sent to war or have any other duty laid on him. For one year he is to be free to stay at home and bring happiness to the wife he has married.” But if his marriage was so close, why was he accepting an invitation to someone else’s wedding banquet? In any case, the way that the excuses are set aside makes it clear: Neither the claims of business, nor of farming, nor of family are acceptable when used to refuse God’s invitation to join God’s reign. God’s Reign comes first, before anything else in life.

All of this stands against interpreting the last command – “compel them to come in” – to mean that we have no choice when God invites us. We have a choice: The most important choice in our lives.

When we combine God’s invitation with God’s seeking, we realize that God holds out the invitation relentlessly. I think of a close friend who refused God’s invitation in her life until she lay dying of kidney failure. She told her daughter, “I’ve wrestled with the devil, and I’ve lost.” Her daughter told me then of my friend’s last words before dying: “I’m going to Jehovah’s Land.” I believe that when she admitted her failure, God renewed the invitation to life, and she is now at God’s eternal Wedding feast. God’s invitation remains open until we leave this life.

God is an invitational God, and God wants us also to live invitationally. God wants us to invite people into our lives and to invite them to join us at the Wedding Feast of the Lamb.

This kind of living is hard. Living this way means that we keep ourselves open to others – even to other people who can hurt us. I remember a close friend who thought that I had betrayed him. Lois and I used to get together often with him and his wife, but, feeling that I had betrayed them, they closed the door to further contact. Living invitationally with my friends means remaining open to the hurt they can bring to us. Our natural response is to close the door against them as well. I believe that God wants us to keep the door open to a return, even if that return opens old wounds.

Jesus of course is the example, remaining open to his enemies even on the cross. His example is expressed well in a prayer from the Anglican Prayer Book:

Lord Jesus Christ, you stretched out your arms of love on the hard wood of the cross that everyone might come within the reach of your saving embrace: So clothe us in your Spirit that we, reaching forth our hands in love, may bring those who do not know you to the knowledge and love of you; for the honour of your Name. Amen

Some people don’t like this prayer because of its “transactional nature”. I see in it rather God’s eternal openness to us, accepting our rebellion into his arms of love and welcoming us to the Wedding Feast of the Lamb – if we will say yes to his invitation.

Some Closing Thoughts

God, then, is God who celebrates, God who seeks, and God who invites. God wants us also to be a people of joy, who seek those separated from God and invite them to join the party.

The parable makes it clear that this invitation is for everyone. The religious professionals in his audience recognized themselves among the first guests. The “people of the land”, the marginalized people of Israel, recognized themselves among the guests brought in at the end. The truth is that everyone is invited.

Two basic points emerge from what we have said. One is that we can accept or refuse the invitation. Refusal appears unthinkable, but many people do refuse God. We then continue to seek them, trusting that God’s relentless love will reach them. Two is that God wants us to imitate God and remain open to everyone, even those who can hurt us most. Such openness requires God’s Spirit in us. None of us can live this way if God’s Spirit does not energize us. But if God’s Spirit is flowing within us, we will live this way naturally. When you get into the best party for eternity, you want everyone else to join you!

Steinbach Mennonite Church

5 August 2018

Text

Luke 14: 15-24

The parable of the great banquet

¹⁵ When one of those at the table with him heard this, he said to Jesus, “Blessed is the one who will eat at the feast in the kingdom of God.”

¹⁶ Jesus replied: “A certain man was preparing a great banquet and invited many guests. ¹⁷ At the time of the banquet he sent his servant to tell those who had been invited, ‘Come, for everything is now ready.’ ¹⁸ 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.’ ¹⁹ Another said, ‘I have just bought five yoke of oxen, and I’m on my way to try them out. Please excuse me.’ ²⁰ Still another said, ‘I have just got married, so I can’t come.’

²¹ “The servant came back and reported this to his master. Then the owner of the house became angry and ordered 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.’ ^22 ‘Sir,’ the servant said, ‘what you ordered has been done, but there is still room.’ ²³ Then the master told his servant, ‘Go out to the roads and country lanes and compel them to come in, so that my house will be full. ²⁴ I tell you, not one of those who were invited will get a taste of my banquet.’”

More Immigrant Thoughts

I wrote recently putting down in writing some of my thoughts about immigration. North America faces significant immigration, due especially to the pressure of immigrants from Central America. Refugees from Syria and other conflict regions are also knocking on the door, but the largest number comes from Central America.

In this blog, I want to continue thinking aloud, taking special note of the objections that many of my friends make to my basic ideas. I counsel a fundamental openness to other people, including those in need who come to our borders. Canada is more open to immigrants and refugees than the USA is; but there is a significant fear in both countries that refugees will flood our country, to our detriment. I want to address some of these concerns.

First, I observe that, although I disagree with my friends, I do not assume that they are being unreasonable or are otherwise bad people. Too much of our political discourse assumes that people who disagree with us are motivated by evil intent. In the USA, some conservative figures (often radio or TV figures) have beaten a drum for many years, saying that Democrats are trying to destroy the country. Now, during the Trump presidency, I hear many liberals beating the same drum – about conservatives.

For any fruitful conversation to take place, I assume that many of the people who disagree with me have good reasons for their position. We may still disagree, but I seek to address the issues, not attack the people who hold them.

Second, here are a series of possible concerns with brief responses:

1. Legal Immigrants are good. Undocumented workers are bad.

There is truth to this viewpoint. I advocate following the rules. When we immigrated to Canada, we followed required procedures. There are at least two qualifications I think of: 1) When an immigration system breaks down, people are more likely to go around the rules. So, fix the system; don’t demonize the people! This point applies especially in the USA. 2) When conditions are so bad that people can no longer live in them, they will go around the rules. Again, don’t demonize the people; work at dealing with the conditions that push them out of their homes.

2. Immigrants are good. Refugees are bad.

I disagree with this idea more fully than with the first idea. Beyond our citizenship in any one country, we are part of the human family. When someone in our extended human family is in distress, we respond – just as we would like someone else to respond if we were in distress.

A further reason I disagree with this idea is that refugees of all people know what it is to go hungry and experience destructive poverty. Immigrants in general tend to be hard workers, and refugees are often the hardest workers of all. Helping them get on their feet costs us something up front, but they will give more back to the country that takes them in than it costs us in the first place.

3. Immigrants in general are a danger because they use our resources and take our jobs.

As the reader may guess from #2, I disagree. The USA and Canada both have low birthrates. Our economies require more children than we are having for our various social programs (such as Social Security in the USA and Social Insurance in Canada) to work. Immigration provides the necessary people for our economies to thrive. I note that, if this reasoning were valid, the economies of the USA and Canada should be in crisis, but they are not. They are healthy and growing. I see immigration as a positive good.

4. Immigrants and Refugees from Central America are infiltrated with gangsters and criminals. Even if many of the refugees are telling the truth, we cannot take the risk of allowing the bad people in with the good.

I get this fear. I understand why we want to keep criminal elements out of our country (in the USA or in Canada). A full response goes beyond this brief blog, but here are a few thoughts: 1) Such gangs are a real problem. In Winnipeg, Asian and African gangs recruit young people in the park, whose families have just arrived and are staying in the Welcome Centre beside the park. This is a problem! 2) Gangs flourish for a variety of reasons, such as high unemployment especially among young people and high drug use in North America (so that the gangs run drugs to us). 3) One of the best ways to combat gangs is to allow faith-based groups access to immigrant families to work with them and help them integrate into the community. Canada (and to a lesser extent, the USA) have a counter-productive fear of allowing faith-based groups to work freely. This idea requires a lot more thought on my part before I say anything more about it. 4) It is more effective to work at eradicating the financial and political problems in the countries immigrants come from than it is to try and stop them coming. If there is a gang problem in Guatemala, help the government of Guatemala to develop its economy and to eradicate political corruption. Most people would rather stay home. They tend not to leave home unless home becomes unlivable.

My own personal view is that we overstate the danger from immigrants many times over. Most Arabs and North Africans are not members of ISIS. Most Central Americans or Asians are not gang members. Most immigrants and refugees are ready to work hard and make a new home here – a good home that benefits us as well as them.

I welcome pushback on any of these thoughts. I am an ordinary citizen (dual: Canada and the USA) with ordinary experiences, trying to think through one of the challenges that we face today.

Immigrant Thoughts

Last April, the Trump administration announced a zero tolerance policy towards people who cross the border without the required permission. The policy meant that children would be separated from their parents on the grounds that the parents were “illegal immigrants” and therefore guilty of a crime. The policy lasted for two months, and it has resulted in significant human suffering.

We moved to Canada in 1997, and I have also been an immigrant in Zambia and Zimbabwe. I am the grandson of a man who immigrated to the USA, legally through the proper channels. I venture the following thoughts as an American, a Christian, and an immigrant myself. I divide these brief reflections into two parts: basic facts on which we can agree, and further observations that seem self-evident to me, although some of my friends do not agree.

Basic Facts

1. The process by which people move to the United States is difficult and needs reforming. Having experienced the Canadian system, I would advocate reforms along the lines of the point system that works quite well in Canada. Whatever else should be done, immigration reform should be a priority for the political left and right in the United States.

2. Separating families damages people greatly. The harm done to young children by taking them from their parents is difficult to calculate, but clearly it is immense. Even if one sees it as necessary, one must acknowledge the harm done to the people involved.

3. The USA and Canada do not have a severe problem with refugees. Europe has a problem with refugees far in excess of anything faced in North America. That is not surprising, given the physical location of Europe with respect to the Mediterranean Sea, and given the lack of border controls within the European Union. An internet search gives 46,700 refugees coming to Canada in 2016, and 84,989 to the USA in 2016. Wikipedia gives a figure of just under 1.3 million asylum seekers in Europe in 2015. We do not have a problem; Europe has a problem.

Paradoxically, the USA has responded with open official hostility to the relatively low number of refugee claimants, while Europe has responded with a greater degree of openness. Angela Merkel has appealed directly to Germany’s legacy as a Christian nation, while many committed Christians have agreed openly with Trump’s actions against “illegal immigrants”.

Some Further Observations

This last paragraph above moves us into the realm of interpretation. The three statements I make should be relatively easy for us to agree on, whatever we think should be done with undocumented immigrants. Here some further thoughts with which I view these basic facts.

1. As Americans, we assume that all people are equal. Our Declaration of Independence begins, “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and happiness.”

I once hear someone review American history as a reflection on this declaration. At first, we assumed “all men” meant those eligible to vote. We fought the War of the States partly in order to affirm that “all men” included “black men”. Then we struggled with including women, during the suffragette movement, and we concluded that “all men” means “all men and women”. Now we are struggling with the idea that some (including Trump) hold – that “all men” means all Americans and only Americans.

Clearly, in 1776 “all men” meant anyone who comes here. There were no Americans to serve as a restrictive category. All men meant all people, American or English, If we take the document seriously, “all men” today must include all people, wherever they live and wherever they come from. We cannot restrict what we call “human rights” to Americans only; immigrants – legal and illegal – are included in the statement, “all men are created equal”.

2. A basic question in the current discussion is how we view immigrants generally. Are they good people, people whom we welcome gladly? Are they competitors, whose presence may make life harder for us? Are they freeloaders, who use our resources and give nothing back? Are they an economic asset, whose presence leads to greater economic and political health?

I believe that they are an asset, almost from the moment they arrive. I have seen many immigrants here in Manitoba, and I know that they work harder than most people. Many of them have experienced real loss, and they work hard to avoid the kind of poverty that some of them have escaped from. Further, the Prairie Provinces in Canada would shrink indefinitely without immigration. With immigration (both by way of immigrants and of refugees), we are growing and prospering.

3. More importantly, the Scriptures are clear about how we are to respond to the outsider. Jesus regularly refers to Samaritans – the outsiders of his day – as people worth emulating. Both Old and New Testaments lift up the virtue of hospitality. The NT letters describe care for brothers and sisters in the church as of first importance, but they also add the benefit of caring for strangers, calling them “angels unawares”. Jesus makes the centrality of radical hospitality clear in the parable of the sheep and the goats (Matthew 25).

In short, for us as Christians, regardless of the position of our government, we are required as God’s people to welcome strangers and immigrants. We welcome them, and we seek to help them, sacrificially if necessary. Failure to do so is grounds to be put out of God’s kingdom.

4. For many people, immigration is primarily a political issue. Democrats say that Republicans oppose immigration because so many immigrants are Brown instead of White. Republicans say that they just want people to follow the rules. I see a small amount of truth in most objections to people crossing the border illegally, but usually not enough to base our whole immigration policy on.

For example, we hear that many immigrants from South America are criminals or part of a drug cartel. I am reasonably sure that there are some who are bad actors; I am happy when the immigration officials identify them and remove them. But we cannot make policy on the assumption that most immigrants are bad actors. The bad actors are more likely to come in some other way than walking across the dessert. Most people who risk their lives in this way are desperate to escape the bad actors and will richly reward the country that helps them do so.

5. I am a conservative. Many people think that liberals are for immigration and conservatives are against. That makes little sense to me. Many immigrants share the social and cultural values of conservatives. I find myself at home among them. Not only do they benefit our economy, but they also tend to help us retain important social values of our own. The political calculation that leads Republicans to oppose immigration is, I believe, significantly flawed.

6. The ins and outs of immigration policy are complex and frustrating. I doubt that most of us can contribute helpfully to making that policy. I prefer not to respond politically to immigrants, but rather to respond ethically, on the basis of my Christian faith. As a follower of Christ, I welcome immigrants and refugees. I begin with an open stance of hospitality, not with a politically calculated stance.

Political calculations will steal your soul. In my own view, many who call themselves Christians have sold their soul to political calculations, closing their hearts and their hands to people made in God’s image. We may or may not pay a political price for doing so. We will certainly have to answer to God for closing our hearts to the strangers in our midst.

A Patient Ferment

The title of this sermon comes from the title of a book by Alan Kreider. Kreider describes the process of growth by which the early church moved –almost irresistibly – from an insignificant group of people on the margins of the Empire to the established religion of the Empire.

When we remember what the first church was – a small group rallying around an unknown Jewish Rabbi, it is more than a little surprising that within 300 years it became the driving force of the Roman Empire. What happened? The New Testament tells the story of the first church. In Acts 17, Paul and Silas’ opponents in Thessalonica call them “these men who have turned the world upside down” (NKJV). The NIV renders the same phrase as: “These men who have caused trouble all over the world”. In any case, they were highly active and they demanded a response. They were the sort of group that one might expect to take over the Empire!

That all changed under persecution. The Roman Emperors recognized a threat to their authority, and they responded vigorously. First Nero, then Domitian (followed by others) sought out Christians to kill them. The book of Revelation may reflect persecution under Domitian. Persecution waxed and waned for about 250 years between the time of Nero and the time of Constantine. During this period, church worship moved underground, and yet the church continued to grow steadily, irresistibly. Why?

Kreider describes the process with these two words: “patient ferment”. The growth was like fermentation in the process of making bread. It is a quiet, almost invisible, process, but it moves with remarkable power. The word “patient” refers to the virtue of patience, which Christians of this period saw as vital to their lives. They did not respond to persecution with efforts to defeat their enemies, but with a patient embrace of God, of each other, and of their enemies. This patience formed the bedrock of their lives as they embraced the way of Christ without asking if it would prove to be effective against the Roman Empire. They knew that God’s resurrection power was at work in their lives, regardless of external circumstances.

What does all of this have to do with our texts? What does all of this have to do with our lives today? We walk through the texts together and then return to the patient ferment of the early church as a guide for our lives today.

2 Samuel 5

My theme this morning is that the church grows best when it is outwardly weak. The passage in which David was made king seems to say the opposite. David began as a shepherd in Bethlehem and then became a servant in King Saul’s house. He rose to prominence as a military leader under Saul, which earned him Saul’s enmity. He spent the next several years on the run, an outlaw chief of an outlaw band. When Saul died, Israel’s elders installed David as King. He was 30 years old when he became king and reigned for 40 years. When he was made king, he established Jerusalem as his capital. Verses 6 to 8 tell how he conquered Jerusalem and made it his own.

David was “a man after God’s own heart” (1 Samuel 13:14), chosen by God to replace Saul. Under his son, Solomon, Israel became a regional power. A mark of Jesus as the Messiah of God was that he was “Son of David”. The last verse of our text notes: “[David] became more and more powerful, because the LORD God Almighty was with him.” We could almost think that this story intends to illustrate how to be strong and good, but ….

But indeed. Remember that stories in the Bible tell us what happened. It is a common mistake to assume that “is” means “should be”. The way that David lived is critiqued even within the story itself. The truth is that his great contribution was to begin the family in which the Messiah would be born. All of his political and military achievements are worth less than this simple fact: The son who came from his wife, Bathsheba (a Gentile and another man’s wife), was the ancestor of the Messiah. God’s triumph, come through David’s failure.

2 Corinthians 12

In 2 Corinthians, Paul defends himself against people he calls “super-apostles” – people who claim great and wonderful religious experiences for themselves, and claim also that Paul has no real standing as an apostle because he can’t match their spiritual power and authority.

In the verses we heard earlier, Paul replies to their charges by embracing them. “You’re right!” he says. “I am as weak as you say, but not for the reason that you think.” He observes that he has had spiritual experiences to match theirs. He has had visions that have taken him into the “third heaven” and into paradise. We don’t need to know exactly what he meant by these terms. It is enough to know that he was – in human terms – a spiritual adept.

Acts 20 tells us that he also had spiritual power. You remember the incident in which a young man named Eutychus fell asleep while Paul was preaching. Paul went to him and brought him back to life. Clearly, Paul could have competed in terms of spiritual experiences and of spiritual power, but he chose not to do so.

Why not? Paul had learned that we are in fact helpless to control life. His close relationship with God and the power of God’s Spirit within him could not cure a particular problem in his own life, what he calls his “thorn in the flesh” and “a messenger from Satan”. We don’t know what it was. Speculations abound – from physical ailments to spiritual dryness, but we simply don’t know. It doesn’t matter. The point is that he realised his helplessness and weakness. That recognition released God’s presence and power in his life. “God’s power is made perfect in human weakness. When I am weak, then I am strong.” This passage shapes the way I read the account in 2 Samuel 5. This idea appears again in our gospel reading.

Mark 6

The gospel passage contains two parts. First, Jesus and his disciples arrive in Nazareth, his home town. In chapter 4, Jesus taught in parables and calmed a stormy sea. In chapter 5, he cast out demons, raised a dead girl, and healed a sick woman. People responded with wonder, gathering around him in great crowds. In Nazareth, the people responded quite differently. They say, “We’ve heard remarkable stories about this man, but we know him! He is Mary’s son. His brothers and sisters live here with us. We saw him grow up. Who does he think he is!”

Jesus responds with a proverb, “A prophet is not without honour, except in his own town.” He healed a few people, who evidently were willing to trust him to mediate God’s power to them, but then he and his disciples moved on to other places.

Second, Jesus sends his disciples intentionally into the surrounding villages. He tells them to preach the gospel of repentance and he gives them authority to cast out demons. [That is how I read verses 10 to 12.] He also tells them to rely completely on him. [That is how I read his instructions in verses 8 and 9.] If we look at ourselves, we must admit that we tend to rely on our own abilities. We plan carefully, train as well as we can, and then do God’s work in the church. Jesus makes it clear that such preparations, however important, are secondary. No extra supplies. No extra money. Just go and preach wherever they will accept you.

This second point is, I think, another example of Paul’s statement, “God’s power is made perfect in human weakness.” When we rely on human strength and wisdom to do God’s work, we fail. When we embrace our helplessness in human terms, God releases God’s power and wisdom to work through us.

The Patient Ferment of the Early Church

How does this theme of human weakness relate to the Early Church, as described by Kreider? The NT church acted in power, with miracles like the ones during Jesus’ own ministry. The first Christians were open in their proclamation of the gospel, as the book of Acts makes clear. They were a small group on the margins of the Empire, but they acted with the confidence of people who knew that God was working in and through them for the salvation of the world.

Then persecution set in. To be a Christian was hazardous. Many died in the arena, martyrs for their faith. Christians became quiet in the public square, allowing their lives to demonstrate God’s presence. Alan Kreider observes that their steady, patient obedience to Christ, lived in their human weakness, became a beacon that drew people irresistibly to Christ.

One story among many: Kreider tells how Christians living in Carthage (North Africa) responded to an outbreak of plague in their city. Around 250 AD, the plague (some form of highly contagious disease) broke out in the city. It was so bad that people put their own sick family members out in the street and left them to die. Under the leadership of their bishop, Cyprian, Christians began to treat the dying people left in the street. Risking their own lives, they treated all the sick people alike, whether Christian or non-Christian.

Their courageous love brought an end to the persecution of Christians in North Africa. Confronted with the kind of love that ignored all barriers, people realised that their impressions of Christians as enemies of the city were wrong. This active love in the face of danger unlocked people’s hearts and predisposed them to respond favourably to the gospel.

Kreider’s basic point is simple. In times of persecution, the early church grew because they loved each other and loved the world around them with God’s love. Their automatic reaction [what Kreider calls their “habitus” – we might say “habitual reactions”, i.e., their first response] to any situation was derived from the life and teachings of Christ. They lived this way consistently and patiently, all the time. Fifty years ago, Stephen Neill described their lives this way:

In those days to be a Christian meant something. Doubtless among the pagans there were many who lived upright and even noble lives. Yet all our evidence goes to show that in that decaying world sexual laxity had gone almost to the limits of the possible, and that slavery had brought with it the inevitable accompaniments of cruelty and the cheapening of the value of human life. Christians were taught to regard their bodies as temples of the Holy Spirit. The Church did not attempt to forbid or abolish slavery; it drew the sting of it by reminding masters and slaves alike that they had a common Master … and that they were brothers in the faith. (A History of Christian Missions, 1964, 41)

And Today?

I think that the same lesson applies to us today. Fifty years ago, the church had significant political and economic power in North America. Today, we have far less. We have moved from the centre of society to the margins. To be a Christian is to have many people assume that we have checked our brains at the door. It does no good to protest that our faith is rational and loving; many Canadians see Christians as bigoted, dumb, and out of touch with reality.

How can we change their minds? Not by arguing with them, and not by preaching at them. Apologetics is important, and organizations such as Ravi Zacharias Ministries International demonstrate the intellectual substance of Christian faith. Evangelism is important, and Operation Mobilization (among others) does well at helping Christians share their faith. But more important than anything else is a simple acceptance of our human weakness. We can own our failures and seek God’s help renewing our lives. We can embrace God’s love and develop a lifestyle of responding in God’s love to everything that happens. Like the Christians in Carthage, we can return love for hate and embrace those we most fear. Patiently, consistently, lovingly, we live the life of Christ, day by day with everyone around us. When we embrace our weakness, God’s power is released in us, and we discover the wonders of God’s grace and love in our lives.

As an illustration, I want to share a story told recently in Christianity Today (April 20, 2018). It begins with these words:

You have seen my picture a thousand times. It’s a picture that made the world gasp—a picture that defined my life. I am nine years old, running along a puddled roadway in front of an expressionless soldier, arms outstretched, naked, shrieking in pain and fear, the dark contour of a napalm cloud billowing in the distance.

My own people, the South Vietnamese, had been bombing trade routes used by the Viet Cong rebels. I had not been targeted, of course. I had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those bombs have brought me immeasurable pain. Even now, some 40 years later, I am still receiving treatment for burns that cover my arms, back, and neck. The emotional and spiritual pain was even harder to endure.

Kim Phuc Phan Thi tells her full story in a 2017 book titled, Fire Road: The Napalm Girl’s Journey through the Horrors of War to Faith, Forgiveness, and Peace. This article is a brief excerpt. She tells how she survived the bombing. The photographer took the children to the hospital after he took the picture. The doctors did not think she would survive, but she did – after 17 surgeries over 14 months. She tells us that her parents were leaders within the Cao Dai religion. Here is her description:

Cao Dai is universalist in nature. … [I]t recognizes all religions as having “one same divine origin, which is God, or Allah, or the Tao, or the Nothingness,” or pretty much any other deity you could imagine. “You are god, and god is you”—we had this mantra ingrained in us. We were equal-opportunity worshipers, giving every god a shot. …

For years, I prayed to the gods of Cao Dai for healing and peace. But as one prayer after another went unanswered, it became clear that either they were nonexistent or they did not care to lend a hand.

She was nine years old when the bombs dropped. Over the next 12 years she looked for help to deal with the crippling physical and emotional and spiritual pain she bore. She writes:

In 1982, I found myself crouched inside Saigon’s central library, pulling Vietnamese books of religion off the shelves one by one. The stack in front of me included books on Bahá’í, Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, and Cao Dai. It also contained a copy of the New Testament. I thumbed through several books before pulling the New Testament into my lap. An hour later, I had picked my way through the Gospels, and at least two themes had become abundantly clear.

First, despite all that I had learned through Cao Dai … Jesus presented himself as the way, the truth, and the life (John 14:6). His entire ministry, it seemed, pointed to one straightforward claim: “I am the way you get to God; there is no other way but me.” Second, this Jesus had suffered in defense of his claim. He had been mocked, tortured, and killed. Why would he endure these things, I wondered, if he were not, in fact, God?

I had never been exposed to this side of Jesus—the wounded one, the one who bore scars. I turned over this new information in my mind as a gem in my hand, relishing the light that was cast from all sides. The more I read, the more I came to believe that he really was who he said he was, that he really had done what he said he had done, and that—most important to me—he really would do all that he had promised in his Word.

That Christmas Eve, she found herself in a small church in Saigon. The pastor spoke simply, of the gift we give at Christmas, and of the greatest gift ever given, when God gave God’s Son, Jesus. She writes that she was desperate for peace and joy to replace the bitterness and desire for death she felt so deeply.

So when the pastor finished speaking, I stood up, stepped out into the aisle, and made my way to the front of the sanctuary to say yes to Jesus Christ. And there, in a small church in Vietnam, mere miles from the street where my journey had begun amid the chaos of war—on the night before the world would celebrate the birth of the Messiah—I invited Jesus into my heart. When I woke up that Christmas morning, I experienced the kind of healing that can only come from God. I was finally at peace.

Kim Phuc still lives today with the physical consequences of that horror-filled day when the bombs rained down on her village, but she adds something of vital importance: “Today, I thank God for that picture. Today, I thank God for everything—even for that road. Especially for that road.” (As a side note to her story, she lives today in the Toronto area. She defected to Canada in 1996 and became a citizen in 1997. She has established the Kim Phuc Foundation International for healing children of war. Wikipedia quotes her from an interview with NPR as saying, “Forgiveness made me free from hatred. I still have many scars on my body and severe pain most days but my heart is cleansed. Napalm is very powerful, but faith, forgiveness, and love are much more powerful.”

There is perhaps a sense of incongruity in using this story. I have stressed that the gospel comes in a quiet way beneath the surface of the great events, so we may wonder if a story so dramatic and startling quite fits what I have been saying. Listen again to the words from that last quote: “Napalm is very powerful, but faith, forgiveness, and love are much more powerful.” The world around us depends on dramatic and destructive power, but life, the true life of God, comes silently beneath the surface. That life, full of faith and forgiveness and love, proves to be far stronger than the roar and desolation of napalm bombs. God’s strength is made perfect in human weakness, and when we discover our essential helplessness, we receive the power of God. Amen.

Grace Bible Church

8 July 2018

Texts

2 Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10

5 All the tribes of Israel came to David at Hebron and said, “We are your own flesh and blood. ² In the past, while Saul was king over us, you were the one who led Israel on their military campaigns. And the Lord said to you, ‘You will shepherd my people Israel, and you will become their ruler.’”

³ When all the elders of Israel had come to King David at Hebron, the king made a covenant with them at Hebron before the Lord, and they anointed David king over Israel. ⁴ David was thirty years old when he became king, and he reigned forty years. ⁵ In Hebron he reigned over Judah seven years and six months, and in Jerusalem he reigned over all Israel and Judah thirty-three years. …

⁹ David then took up residence in the fortress and called it the City of David. He built up the area around it, from the terraces inward. ¹⁰ And he became more and more powerful, because the Lord God Almighty was with him.

2 Corinthians 12:2-10

² I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven. Whether it was in the body or out of the body I do not know—God knows. ³ And I know that this man—whether in the body or apart from the body I do not know, but God knows— ⁴ was caught up to paradise and heard inexpressible things, things that no one is permitted to tell. ⁵ I will boast about a man like that, but I will not boast about myself, except about my weaknesses. ⁶ Even if I should choose to boast, I would not be a fool, because I would be speaking the truth. But I refrain, so no one will think more of me than is warranted by what I do or say, ⁷ or because of these surpassingly great revelations. Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. ⁸ Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. ⁹ But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. ¹⁰ That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Mark 6:1-13

6 Jesus left there and went to his hometown, accompanied by his disciples. ² When the Sabbath came, he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were amazed.

“Where did this man get these things?” they asked. “What’s this wisdom that has been given him? What are these remarkable miracles he is performing? ³ Isn’t this the carpenter? Isn’t this Mary’s son and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas and Simon? Aren’t his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him.

⁴ Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his own town, among his relatives and in his own home.” ⁵ He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people and heal them.⁶ He was amazed at their lack of faith.

Then Jesus went around teaching from village to village. ⁷ Calling the Twelve to him, he began to send them out two by two and gave them authority over impure spirits. ⁸ These were his instructions: “Take nothing for the journey except a staff—no bread, no bag, no money in your belts. ⁹ Wear sandals but not an extra shirt. ¹⁰ Whenever you enter a house, stay there until you leave that town. ¹¹ And if any place will not welcome you or listen to you, leave that place and shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them.”

¹² They went out and preached that people should repent. ¹³ They drove out many demons and anointed many sick people with oil and healed them.

A Strange Habit of Life

Jesus’ family thought he was crazy. Maybe people today think that we are crazy too, when we choose to follow Jesus the Messiah. I want to examine this idea through the gospel reading from Mark, as well as the OT and NT readings.

Mark 3

Why did people think that Jesus was crazy? The gospel text says, “Then Jesus entered a house, and again a crowd gathered, so that he and his disciples were not even able to eat. When his family heard about this, they went to take charge of him, for they said, ‘He is out of his mind.’ And the teachers of the law who came down from Jerusalem said, ‘He is possessed by Beelzebul! By the prince of demons he is driving out demons.’”

Two responses to Jesus. What was Jesus doing that led his family to say, “He’s out of his mind”, and the teachers of the law to say, “He’s possessed by a demon!”? First, he was healing people and casting out demons himself. His actions caught people’s attention, so that crowds started following him to listen to his teaching and to see what he would do next.

Second, Jesus made implicit claims about his identity. In chapter 1 he cast out an evil spirit, who identified Jesus clearly before he left the possessed man: “What do you want with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are – the Holy One of God!” The people heard this spirit speak, and they started speculating about Jesus.

In chapter 2, four men dug a hole in the roof of the house where Jesus was teaching. They lowered their friend, a paralyzed man, through the hole in the roof, for Jesus to heal him. Jesus response was not a simple healing. Instead, he said, “Son, your sins are forgiven!” If the event in chapter 1 started people talking, this action poured fuel on the fire of their thoughts. “Why does this fellow talk like that? He’s blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?”

Jesus did not back down, but referred to himself as the Son of Man, a title meaning “the Messiah”, as he healed the man’s paralysis. At the end of chapter 2, Jesus is confronted by the Pharisees, and refers to himself both as the Son of Man and as the Lord of the Sabbath.

These actions were the real reason that his family thought he was crazy. He claimed unity with God. He claimed a direct unique identity as one with God.

The Trilemma

C.S. Lewis described the problem that Jesus presents us with as a trilemma. Let me explain. Jesus claims to be uniquely identified with God. If he had lived in India as a Hindu of that time period, this claim would not have surprised anyone. One school of Hinduism uses the phrase, “I am God, You are God” to express the essential unity of all reality.  If they had heard Jesus talk about “the Son of Man” and “the Lord of the Sabbath”, they would have agreed.

But Jesus lived in the Roman Province of Judea, and he was a Jew. First century Jews had a clear understanding that God is unique. The great Shema of Judaism says, “Hear Oh Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One.” Any suggestion that you are I or anyone else was somehow uniquely identified with God was blasphemy. In Jesus’ life, his claim to one with the Father was a basic reason that the Jews had him crucified. The penalty for blasphemy is death.

So we come to Lewis’ trilemma. Here is how he puts it in Mere Christianity:

I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God. That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God, but let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to. … Now it seems to me obvious that He was neither a lunatic nor a fiend: and consequently, however strange or terrifying or unlikely it may seem, I have to accept the view that He was and is God

At this stage of his career, Jesus’ family did not accept the idea that he was God, but held to the idea that he was a crazy: a lunatic. The teachers of the law also could not accept that he was God, but held to the idea that he was allied with Satan. So, why did people (including his family) think that Jesus was crazy? They thought that Jesus was crazy because he identified himself as the one in whom God comes to earth. As he puts it in John’s gospel repeatedly, “I and my father are one.”

1 Samuel 8 and 2 Corinthians 4

Jesus made no effort to fit into people’s ideas of what he should be. He was simply himself: One with God; the Son of Man [i.e., the Messiah]; the Lord of the Sabbath. God’s people have been less ready to stand out from the crowd.

In 1 Samuel 8, the Children of Israel decided they wanted a king. The people living around them had a king, and they wanted to fit in. Samuel counselled against their choice. Giving their ruler the power of being king would lead to tyranny, he warned, but the people insisted: They wanted a king. God gave them a king – first Saul, and then David and his heirs. God even used their rebellion to prepare the way for the Messiah, God’s Chosen One, to come. But the point of the passage is clear: By deciding to be like the people around them, the Children of Israel rebelled against God. God wanted them to understand that God is king, rather than any human ruler.

In 2 Corinthians, Paul defends his authority as an apostle. The Corinthians were attracted to spiritual rock stars (Paul calls them “super-apostles”) who showed up in their midst, but Paul refuses to fit into their ideas of what he should be. Earlier in chapter 4, he refers to himself and the Corinthians as “earthen vessels”, that is, ordinary people who do not stand out from the crowd. Here he observes that their ordinariness is being transformed into glory.

We might wonder then: Do People Think We’re Crazy? They might! If people around us listen to our conversation and to our hymns and all that we say and do together, they might think we’re crazy. As with Jesus, their perception might come from our stated identity.

Look at the person beside you. Maybe you think they’re really cool or really dull. Maybe you wish they had sat closer to you or a few rows behind you instead. The fact is, however, that whatever else we think about each other, we all fit. We’re an ordinary group of Canadians, and no one would think twice about us, at least at first sight.

Then we start to sing and pray and read Scripture, and we say things like, “our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” We start to talk about each other as people who reflect God’s glory. Pretty soon we are referring to each other as kings and queens, divine royalty. We come close to outdoing Shankara, the great Hindu theologian of 1400 years ago, who said to his students, “You are god!” If people really understood what we’re saying, they might indeed say, “You guys are crazy!”

A hundred years ago, Vachel Lindsay wrote a remarkable poem called “General William Booth enters into Heaven”. He pictures the moment that the founder of the Salvation Army, renowned for his work among the world’s poor, died and went to heaven. Listen to part of what he wrote:

Booth led boldly with his big bass drum—  

(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)  

The Saints smiled gravely and they said: “He’s come.”  

(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)  

Walking lepers followed, rank on rank,  

Lurching bravoes from the ditches dank,  

Drabs from the alleyways and drug fiends pale—  

Minds still passion-ridden, soul-powers frail:—  

Vermin-eaten saints with mouldy breath,  

Unwashed legions with the ways of Death—  

(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)

…

Lindsay continues with the transformation that overtakes the crowd in Heaven:

Jesus came from out the court-house door,  

Stretched his hands above the passing poor.  

Booth saw not, but led his queer ones there  

Round and round the mighty court-house square.  

Yet in an instant all that blear review  

Marched on spotless, clad in raiment new.  

The lame were straightened, withered limbs uncurled  

And blind eyes opened on a new, sweet world.  

Drabs and vixens in a flash made whole!  

Gone was the weasel-head, the snout, the jowl!  

Sages and sibyls now, and athletes clean,  

Rulers of empires, and of forests green!  

The hosts were sandalled, and their wings were fire!  

(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)  

But their noise played havoc with the angel-choir.  

(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)   

O shout Salvation! It was good to see  

Kings and Princes by the Lamb set free.  

The banjos rattled and the tambourines  

Jing-jing-jingled in the hands of Queens.

That’s us too! Look around at each other. Divine royalty following our master into the very presence of God!

What Does This Mean Now?

What sets this “good kind of crazy” off from the real crazy? I remember Jonestown. Jim Jones led a cult he called “The People’s Temple” to found a commune in Indiana, which moved to California and finally to Jonestown, Guyana. More than 300 people died when he led them in a mass suicide. I remember David Koresh. Koresh led a cult called the Branch Davidians in Waco, Texas. Koresh and 79 others died in an FBI raid. I have no interest in being part of a cult that elevates its leader beyond all reason and destroys the members’ ability to think.

How is the good kind of crazy different from this? Consider why Jesus’ family changed their minds about him – because they really did change their minds. They observed him throughout his ministry. They saw how he loved people unconditionally and worked on their behalf. They heard to his teaching and recognized the Spirit of God moving through him. The longer they listened and watched and paid attention, the more they realised that Jesus was not crazy, nor was he possessed; they realised that he was just who he said he was.

What’s Your Story?

I have referred to C.S. Lewis often. He began his adult life as a bitter atheist, convinced that God did not exist and angry with God for not existing. Throughout his 20s, his atheism was challenged at various levels, and he came to believe in God. He did not, however, become a Christian. As Alistair McGrath puts it, Lewis could not see what difference Jesus could make to our lives today. The stories about Jesus were just too far away to be relevant.

Then his friend, J.R.R. Tolkien, said something that changed his mind. Tolkien pointed out (to use our 21^st century language) that everyone lives by what we call a metanarrative. Alistair McGrath describes the story that people like Jean Paul Sartre and Richard Dawkins live by:

We are here by accident, meaningless products of a random process. We can only invent meaning and purpose in life, and do our best to stay alive—even though there is no point to life.

McGrath continues with the story of Jesus:

We are precious creatures of a loving God, who has created for us something special that we are asked to do. We have the privilege of being able to do something good and useful for God in this world, and need to work out what it is. (from Lunches with C.S. Lewis)

We discover what God wants us to do by paying attention to Jesus. Jesus is unique in the world’s history. No other “great teacher” claimed to be God. The Buddha was clear that he was not God. Mohammed and Moses would have been horrified at the idea. Jesus says that he shows us God uniquely in himself. He provides a way to live, a strange habit of life that looks crazy, but proves to be the door into the heart of God’s love.

How do we know if this story is true? Lewis tells us that the best way to know if a story is true is by seeing how well it makes sense of the rest of reality. If we are no more than “the meaningless products of a random process”, then we cannot make sense of anything. What Lewis found as a young man, atheist and angry with God for not existing, was that belief in God made sense of everything from his own misfortunes in life to the horrors of World War One. As Lewis famously put it, “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”

[Please note: This is not any kind of a developed argument here. You will have to go and do the work of understanding these ideas more fully on your own. A good place to start is Christian Smith’s book, Moral, Believing Animals, in which he describes several of the major metanarratives that people live by today. In this space, all I can say is that I found the story of Jesus to be true, and I have organized my life round it.]

As we read the story of Jesus, then, we discover how we are to live. We are not like the people around us (unlike the Children of Israel in 1 Samuel 8). We are ordinary people (like those in 2 Corinthians 4), who carry the glory of God inside of us. How do we do this? By choosing the story of Jesus to become the pattern for the story of our lives, a strange habit of life.

Like Jesus, we care for people who are hurting and broken. Like Jesus, we refuse to participate in patterns that are harmful and destructive. Like Jesus, we listen for God’s voice within – both within each one of us, and within the community as a whole, through the Holy Spirit. Like Jesus, we immerse ourselves in the Scriptures, listening for God’s direction for each step of life.

People like the Branch Dravidians or the People’s Temple did not allow God to reshape their own stories with God’s story, told through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. We live in that story, as God reshapes our lives. It may look crazy to the people around us, but it is in fact the source of all that is good and true in our world.

10 June 2018

Grace Bible Church

Texts

1 Samuel 8:4-20:

⁴ So all the elders of Israel gathered together and came to Samuel at Ramah. ⁵ They said to him, ‘You are old, and your sons do not follow your ways; now appoint a king to lead us, such as all the other nations have.’ ⁶ But when they said, ‘Give us a king to lead us,’ this displeased Samuel; so he prayed to the Lord. ⁷ And the Lord told him: ‘Listen to all that the people are saying to you; it is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king. ⁸ As they have done from the day I brought them up out of Egypt until this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so they are doing to you. ⁹ Now listen to them; but warn them solemnly and let them know what the king who will reign over them will claim as his rights.’

¹⁰ Samuel told all the words of the Lord to the people who were asking him for a king. ¹¹ He said, ‘This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: he will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots. ¹² Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plough his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots. ¹³ He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. ¹⁴ He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants. ¹⁵ He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants. ¹⁶ Your male and female servants and the best of your cattle^[c] and donkeys he will take for his own use. ¹⁷ He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. ¹⁸ When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen, but the Lord will not answer you in that day.’

¹⁹ But the people refused to listen to Samuel. ‘No!’ they said. ‘We want a king over us. ²⁰ Then we shall be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.’

2 Corinthians 4:13-5:1:

¹³ It is written: ‘I believed; therefore I have spoken.’ Since we have that same spirit of faith, we also believe and therefore speak, ¹⁴ because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you to himself. ¹⁵ All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.

¹⁶ Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. ¹⁷ For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. ¹⁸ So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. 5 For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.

Mark 3:20-35:

²⁰ Then Jesus entered a house, and again a crowd gathered, so that he and his disciples were not even able to eat. ²¹ When his family heard about this, they went to take charge of him, for they said, ‘He is out of his mind.’ ²² And the teachers of the law who came down from Jerusalem said, ‘He is possessed by Beelzebul! By the prince of demons he is driving out demons.’

²³ So Jesus called them over to him and began to speak to them in parables: ‘How can Satan drive out Satan? ²⁴ If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. ²⁵ If a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand. ²⁶ And if Satan opposes himself and is divided, he cannot stand; his end has come. ²⁷ In fact, no one can enter a strong man’s house without first tying him up. Then he can plunder the strong man’s house. ²⁸ Truly I tell you, people can be forgiven all their sins and every slander they utter, ²⁹ but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven; they are guilty of an eternal sin.’ ³⁰ He said this because they were saying, ‘He has an impure spirit.’

³¹ Then Jesus’ mother and brothers arrived. Standing outside, they sent someone in to call him. ³² A crowd was sitting round him, and they told him, ‘Your mother and brothers are outside looking for you.’ ³³ ‘Who are my mother and my brothers?’ he asked. ³⁴ Then he looked at those seated in a circle round him and said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! ³⁵ Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.’