The Temple was bustling that day. Money changers bickered with worshippers over the exchange rate of foreign currency. Peddlers of doves, the poor man’s sacrifice, sat with their cages full waiting for the next customer.
Business was booming –until Jesus arrived. He walked into the Temple court like He owned it. Holy anger burned His heart and blazed in His eyes as He looked at the scene before Him. Even His disciples were taken aback as He strode across the stone pavement, running the merchants out and into the streets and upending tables full of coins.
The men who should have been leading the people to worship were lining their pockets instead. They were callously unconcerned about the heart of God Who leaned close to listen to the prayers and praise offered in that house. Jesus’ accusation hung heavy over them that day, “It is written, My house shall be called a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves. ” (Mt 21:13)
Church, unless I am mistaken, the Lord has walked into the church like He owns the place in these last few weeks. He has not been impressed with our trendy decor, coffee machines, or hip media presence.
Jesus is looking for some real prayer and worship to rise up from His church. And if He had to turn over our programs and interrupt our routines to find it, then He was right to do so. I would rather clean up the mess of His interruption than continue grieving His heart.
The Lord is zealous about your relationship with Him. If your prayer life is more a list for Him to do than a love song to His heart, get ready for Him to show up and cleanse His temple.
The alabaster box was heavy in her hands as Mary slipped into the room where Jesus was eating dinner with His disciples. The men in the room watched and wondered as they noticed what she carried.
What was Mary up to? Would she sell the expensive box with its rare perfume and give a generous gift to the Go Fund Me account for the disciples missions trip budget?
Would she tell them what it appraised for and earmark her giving envelope for the charity outreach as Judas suggested?
Would she set it down before the Lord for Him to admire before she took it home with her at the end of the evening?
Without hesitation, she broke the box and began to pour its contents on Jesus’ head –and the disciples’ jaws dropped. They couldnt believe what had just happened. All that money down the drain! They were outraged at such a wasteful gesture. Anger flared up in their faces and spilled from their lips until Jesus turned His face toward them.
“Leave her alone,” He spoke sharply. “She has done something GOOD and BEAUTIFUL to me.”
Mary broke her box and it was the sweet smell of her worship. It filled the entire room. It even followed Jesus as He ate the Passover meal the next day. Her worship wafted up around Him as Judas was plotting and planning His betrayal. The aroma of her worship lingered as He prayed in a garden until His blood became like blood. Even in the midst of loud and abusive roman soldiers, the fragrance of her worship clung to Jesus.
Rough men questioned the wisdom of her gift that night. Heaven judged it perfectly reasonable in light of Who Jesus is and what He was about to do.
Jesus is worthy of all the adoration we can give. Don’t go sparing with your worship. Praise Him lavishly. Praise Him deeply. Praise Him when you must do it alone. Praise Him even if it costs you greatly. Break your box and pour it all on Jesus.
In light of Who He is and what He has done, that is the only reasonable response.
Barabbas the notorious prisoner, the one guilty of murder, felt the iron manacles fall from his wrists and the inexplicable joy of undeserved freedom. The guards that had kept him in the dark Roman dungeon now stood silent as he walked away a free man.
During the Passover feast, the Roman prefect always released one prisoner which the people had chosen. When he was told that he had been chosen for this pardon , Barabbas had shaken his head in wonder. He didn’t understand how his crimes could have been forgiven and his sentence commuted by his captors. Not only had he been guilty of insurrection against the Roman government, but he had actually taken a man’s life!
I have so many questions about this man. I wonder if Barabbas ever understood fully what had just happened. Did he go back to his old lifestyle and squander the moment in drunken revelry? Did he go back to being the same old Barabbas, an angry and violent man?
Or did he stop and gaze at the Man who was taking his place? Did he watch how the soldiers roughly handled Him? Did he stick around while Jesus was chained to a post and whipped until His skin hung like ribbons? Did Barabbas the free man go out to Golgotha and stare at the broken body of Jesus fixed with nails on a rough wooden crossbeam hanging suspended between heaven and earth?
Did Barabbas understand that the cross should have been his own? Did realize that he was the recipient of outrageous grace?
Can I tell you a secret? I am Barabbas. I am the one who sinned against God and man. I have held wrong opinions and refused to back down when confronted with my errors. I have harbored hatred and envy in a heart so dark I would shudder for anyone to glimpse it. I have been selfish and self-concerned. I, stained and polluted as I was, could not stand before a holy God. I was guilty and deserved the punishment that was coming.
That is the wonder of salvation. Two thousand years ago, Jesus took my sins and bore them on His own sinless shoulders. He took my place at the judgment bar. Now, when I come before God, I find a loving Father who looks on me with compassion and favor. I am the recipient of outrageous grace.
I don’t want to squander my moment today. Even though it is a busy day with work, commitments, and a hundred other hectic demands, I dare not look away from this Man. I dare not forget His cross is really my own.
There is an account recorded in scripture of two kings, Ahab and Jehoshaphat, sitting together and discussing politics. As the conversation turns to the Syrian aggressors who have been raiding Ahab’s domain, plans were made to engage the enemy in an attempt to win back some land that had been lost. The scene goes something like this:
King A: Will you go to war with me?
King J: Sure. I have plenty of horses and men.
King J ( perhaps scratching his head and wondering if he had just made a mistake): You know, maybe we should ask God about this plan.
King A: Great idea! I have a whole bunch of prophetic guys back here. Actually, I hired them for occasions like this.
Four hundred prophets prance in, predicting a successful campaign and gushing in praise for their benefactor. At first, everything is upbeat as King A smiles his approval , but then King J begins to shift uneasily in his seat. Something seems a little fishy to him. The prophets were unanimously giving good, easy, delightful words, but they lacked the depth he has learned comes from God alone. In fact, he is pretty sure that these prophetic (and obviously spiritual men) were contacting a spirit that wasn’t his God at all.
King Jehoshaphat looks at Ahab and asked, “Is there not a prophet of the Lord here as well?”
Sullen Ahab sends for the prophet Micaiah, for whom the he has already revealed his hatred. Boldly the man of God walks into the room and proclaims that the battle would end in Ahab’s death. The petulant king rages against him and has him thrown into prison before heading to the battlefield. Though Ahab disguised himself, a Syrian archer strung a bow and released a stray arrow that pierced the king’s armor. As the sun went down that day, Ahab’s men were burying him in Samaria, and his soldiers were washing his blood from his chariot.
Ahab chose to listen to the voices of his personal prophetic troup. They were saying what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that he was right. He wanted to hear that his plan was brilliant. He wanted to hear easy words about a rosy future. Those voices were louder than the prophet Micaiah’s somber warning, both because of the number of men speaking but also because they were saying what the king’s ear itched to hear.
I can look at this account found in 1 Kings 22 and shake my head at the foolishness of King Ahab. After all, he had a word from a proven prophet of the Lord who plainly told him the outcome toward which his ambitious plan was heading. Listening to the voices that were only saying what he liked cost Ahab everything. But somehow, I am a little uncomfortable wagging my finger at this long-dead monarch as if I could never fall for the same bait.
May I explain? I am a Christian. I love Jesus with all that I am. In spite of that, I am still prone to gravitate toward the easy road and the message of comfort and convenience. I like a prosperity gospel that has no price tag other than my enthusiasm. I want to hear the message of sowing and reaping that sounds like a vending machine. I put in my ten percent each week, God pops out a massive blessing into my bank account. It is easy to overlook that the analogy doesn’t seem to include the time that the farmer waits, waters, hoes, weeds, and sweats to cultivate the crops he gathers.
I can shout amen to the facebook prophet who tells me that God is taking care of my difficult situations as he offers me his latest e-book, but look away from the pictures of orphans and widows in foreign war zones that need a meal and a tent to sleep in. The fiery evangelist who prophesies with great confidence that God is going to promote me and thrust me into an exciting new ministry adventure is far easier to listen to than digging into the Bible for myself. The word I read there promises that promotion from God comes with voluntary humility that demands I carry a cross and follow a dangerous Jesus wherever He goes.
Yes, you heard what I said, Jesus is dangerous–but He is also wonderful. Jesus goes after dirty people in places that my sensibilities do not enjoy walking. He challenges my assumptions about what faith looks like and how it acts. He refuses to let me settle into a recliner and channel surf while God is waiting for me in a prayer closet. He won’t let me hide.
Church, we are living in a fearful and uncertain time. People are frightened at the prospect of facing disease and threats of economic difficulty. Families are struggling. Governmental leaders are searching for the right path out of the crisis. The news has the latest prognosis on the state of our society running on a ticker tape loop twenty-four hours a day, and to be completely honest, that can be overwhelming to me.
So let me ask you, what voice will you listen to today? Who is playing the prophet for you? I do not ask you to put your head in the sand and hide from the dark. We all need the right information to make wise choices that will keep our families safe. However, if the voice of the news media and endless press conferences have convinced you that there is no hope, you may need to tune in to a higher frequency for a while.
I told you that my Jesus was dangerous, but He is also beautifully wonderful. He meets me in the prayer closet and fellowships with me in sweet intimacy. He beckons me to walk with Him in suspect places, but He is there gathering the precious treasures of broken humanity that have been shipwrecked there. He opens up the Bible and bids me to put my ear close to hear the voice of scriptures speaking of the great glory and unrestrained power of an omnipotent God. He challenges me, but He also comforts me. He asks me to do what seems so hard with all the chaos swirling around me–simply believe.
Child of God, there are many voices in the world but you are not required to give heed to all of them. The trick is discerning which ones you do need to tune in and consider, and which sound you need to give weight in your day. Go ahead and listen to what you need to for wisdom, but then wait for the other voice to speak. In fact, go look for it. Open up your Bible, shut the door on the world, and listen carefully. You will find Him saying what He always says, “All things are possible for him who believes.”
However, I have to warn you, He is likely to ask you to give when it looks like you need to be hoarding your scarce resources. Don’t be surprised if He leads you to call and check on that young mother you sit near in church even though you haven’t spent much time talking to her. You might hear Him beckoning you to pray for people you don’t know or pay for the fuel of the young man you see across the gas station lot.
Our Saviour is dangerous and wonderful, but He won’t remain silent if you set yourself to listen.
“Do you know me?” the question reverberated around the temple’s stone courts as Jesus confronted the crowds that had been whispering around Him. The people had been debating about His identity for days. Some said that He was a good man while others insisted He was a huckster building Himself a reputation. One group guessed that He was Messiah since His ministry was attended by signs and wonders. The opposition insisted that He could not be the One sent by God because He did not fit their description. They insisted that when Messiah came, no one would know from what place He came–but this man Jesus they knew. They knew He came from Nazareth. They knew that He had a mother, sisters, and brothers who still lived in Galilee. They even knew that He was Joseph the carpenter’s son.
The problem was, what they knew was limited and in some parts deeply flawed. He did have a mother and siblings in His hometown of Nazareth, but Jesus was from a much higher locale. In fact, Jesus had plainly declared that He had come down from heaven. Jesus did grow up in a carpenter’s shop, but they missed out on the angel that told Joseph in a dream to take care of Mary and her unborn child because He was a product of the Holy Spirit. In fact, what they thought they knew about Jesus robbed them of their moment in the presence of God. They walked away angry and offended that day, while Jesus and His disciples went out to the Mount of Olives.
Sometimes, I have to wonder if we as Christians would find ourselves in a similar dilemma. For many years, we have gathered weekly to worship. We have the lingo down as we talk about waves of revival, and small-group engagement, and prophetic mantles. We have five-year plans, and building projects, and redecorating on our radars. We know what time church will dismiss because we have timed our song service and our sermons to fit a convenient length.
Somehow, church became the event we attended instead of the prayer-bathed, blood-bought, gathering of saints that grew bolder in persecution and turned the world right side up two thousand years ago. I can’t help but wonder if the first century church would recognize us as brothers and sisters if they could peek into our buildings. Would they be shocked when we quietly slipped out the back doors when the pastors asked everyone to pray near the end of service? Would they warn us that our understanding of the Lord and His purposes was limited and flawed? Would they weep when we chose our sports events and family fun days over worship?
Would Jesus weep? I suspect He wouldn’t. I think He would stand in our midst, eyes blazing as He looked at us, and ask, “Do you know Me? ”
The Jesus I read about in the Gospels turns over tables in the temple when convenience threatens worship. He refuses to follow decorum, eating with the dirty and the disreputable. He preempts the pageantry of the priests to offer living water to the thirsty. He doesn’t wear a watch. Why should He when it was He Who flung the sun into place and started the planet turning on its axis? His perspective holds eternity and His plans reach much farther than a five-year agenda.
I am writing this at a time when the churches in our area have been closed due to the COVID-19 health threat. I miss the rhythm of my local gathering and the voices of my brothers and sisters. However, I feel like the Lord has hit a pause button on the church. He has silenced our busy agendas and quieted our feverish pace, and is challenging us to reconsider what it means to belong to Him.
Following Jesus is actually costly. The child of God must write a blank check with their life and reach Him the pen. We must be willing to walk where He would walk, sit with those with whom He would sit, and give whatever He asks. Our salvation came at a price, a high one, and we can’t lose sight of that. We must be wiling to carry a cross if the Lord offers it to us.
Following Jesus must also be done in community. He has promised that when we meet in His name He will come and fellowship with us there, no matter how small or unimpressive we may seem in the eyes of the world. We are not a social gathering or club that meets once a week. Jesus said that He would build His church on the revelation of Who He is, and the gates of Hell would not prevail against it. (Matthew 16:18) That makes the church seem far more dangerous to the dark around us than it has appeared to be over the past few years.
Tonight, I am looking forward to the gathering of the saints when the all clear is given to assemble again. But until that happens, I will choose to listen to the still small voice asking hard questions, “ Do you know what pleases Me? Do you want to know what breaks My heart? Do you know that I care about secret things like motive and decision, and public things like justice and mercy? Do you know that I have all power on heaven and in earth and nothing catches Me off guard? Do you know that My plans are better than yours? Do you know you can trust Me? Beloved, do you know Me?”
With. It is such a beautiful word. It implies shared purpose. It whispers togetherness and connection. I go WITH my son to the movies. You are WITH your loved ones for a holiday. I am WITH the company for which I work. With speaks of accompaniment, interaction, and association.
That is the word that caught hold of my heart this week as I read once again in John 6:3, “And Jesus walked up the mountainside and sat down there WITH His disciples.” Jesus chose to be in close connection, association, and interacting with the disciples. Other people followed behind and came near them that day seeking Him because they had heard about the signs and wonders He was doing. Some came for healing, some came to listen. But the men Jesus was WITH were those whom He had chosen as His own.
Jesus, the sinless Son of God, chose to sit WITH rough fishermen, impetuous zealots, a dirty tax collector. He linked Himself with men full of questions and doubts, men who were stained by the world and their own life choices. He accompanied and fellowshipped with men who would run and hide when He was arrested, even with the man who would betray Him for a little bit of silver. Jesus chose to be WITH the disciples.
Jesus was with His disciples on mountains where He prayed and in crowds where He worked wonders. Jesus was with them at dinner parties where He turned water to wine and some where He was reviled by the religious for the company around the table. The Lord was with them as He taught multitudes about the heart of God, touched lepers with healing power, and spoke life back into dead bodies. Jesus was with them as He ate Passover, washed their feet, and prayed in agony in a garden. And after His resurrection, Jesus stood with them behind locked doors, walked with them on dusty roads, and met with them on a mountaintop. Jesus chose to do life and complete His mission with His disciples.
I find this to be both a thrill and a challenge. Jesus has promised to be with us as well. The promise that where two or three are gathered in His name, He will be in our midst (Mt 18:20) means that the Lord will be WITH us as the church. When He gave the Great Commission, He promised, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Mt 28:20) Jesus never abandoned His disciples but still chooses to be WITH us.
Better yet, He chooses to be WITH me. God announced His intentions long ago when He declared by the prophet Isaiah that He would be called Immanuel, God with us.(Isaiah 7:14) Jesus is Immanuel, that is His identity and His promise. When I face uncertainty and fear, Jesus is with me. Whether my path is an easy walk in the sunshine or a hard trudge through the valley of the shadow of death, I do not walk alone. The Lord is with me. (Ps 23:4)
That Jesus is Immanuel, God with me, also presents me with the challenge of authentic discipleship. Those disciples who sat on that mountain with Jesus had to allow Him access to their lives in the most intimate details. He called them to follow Him though it cost both career and reputation. They faced public celebration as Jesus multiplied loaves and shared His rejection when He refused to repeat the miracle. The gospels record in great detail how the men who walked with the Lord stumbled, misspoke, lost their temper, and misunderstood what the mission really looked like. And in every circumstance, these men yielded to Jesus’ correction and teaching. There was no part of their lives that were withheld from Him.
For Jesus to be with me, I also must be willing to open every part of my life to Him. I must allow Him access to the thoughts that sometimes slip down old paths that are not consistent with His kingdom, and receive the correction He offers. I must yield my own plans and purposes in order to embrace His higher ways. I must bite back pride when I would rather bite the person offending me because His words instruct me and His Spirit convicts me. I must lay bare the motives of my heart that, at times, I did not recognize as contrary when He shows me where I am missing the mark. When I sin, I cannot hide it. He is with me and quickly pulls the reins to adjust my course because He loves me too much to watch me carelessly shipwreck my life.
There has always been a cost for following Jesus. Discipleship is so personal that it cannot help but cut on both edges. It is a humbling thing to allow the Lord such intimate access to your life. But it also means that He is my constant companion and deepest friend. The price of his correction is more than surpassed by the joy of His fellowship. Jesus is with me and that is my delight.
There used to be a picture that hung on the wall of the church I attended as a teenager that was an artist’s interpretation of Revelations 3:20. It was Jesus standing outside a home, hand raised as if He had been knocking on the wooden door. As a child, I wondered about what it would be like for Jesus to come visiting. As an adult, I understand that He makes the same promise today, if I will hear His voice and open the door, He will come in and fellowship with me. But I must open the door to Him fully. He never comes as my guest; He comes as my Lord.
Pray with me?
Lord, I welcome you. I am Your disciple and I give you free access to my life. Correct me if you see I am wrong and fellowship with me. It is the greatest joy of my life to know that You are WITH me.
Heart pounding and thoughts racing, Elijah looked around the small dusty room he called home. Only moments before, the messenger from the palace had been standing in the doorway, smug and intimidating as he relayed the threat of the queen that the prophet would not see another sunset. His hands shaking, Elijah grabbed a change of clothes and a water jar, and stepped into the dampness of the night. Looking both ways, he hurried through the narrow streets, stopping only long enough to tell his assistant that trouble was brewing. Together they headed out of the gate of Jezreel and down the winding road lit only by their lanterns.
Elijah had spent the last few years hiding from King Ahab and his queen Jezebel while drought dried up the land, a judgment for their wickedness. That drought had ended just yesterday in a dramatic showdown on Mount Carmel between himself and the false prophets of Baal. He had challenged them to prove that their god was alive and listening. Boldly he had instructed them to prepare an altar for sacrifice, lay their bull on the wood, but let Baal light the flame himself. The crowd of supplicants had chanted, danced, cried, and even cut themselves but to no avail. When Elijah had watched long enough, he stood and gathered 12 large stones, heaping them to form an altar for his turn. He laid the wood on the stones, placed his bull on top, and even had spectators pour water over it until the entire structure was fully saturated. The fire that burned his heart as he prayed was answered by fire from heaven as God consumed the sacrifice, stones, and even the dust on which it stood.
But tonight, Elijah the bold prophet was simply a tired man and he was afraid. Tonight he was worried about whether or not he was being followed. He second-guessed his demand that the false prophets be slain for misleading the people. He wondered if he should have headed back to one of his hiding places instead of going into the city that evening. Quickening his pace, Elijah even questioned whether or not God Himself had abandoned him.
The sun was peeking over the horizon when they reached the next city, Beersheba. After a quick breakfast, Elijah handed some coins to his companion and encouraged him to stay out of sight for a few weeks. His worry was greater than his weariness so the prophet picked up his bag, said his goodbye, and hurried down the winding streets. He would not stop until he was in the wilderness, well out of Jezebel’s reach.
The man who had defied the king and boldly declared God’s displeasure was running. He had known miracle provision for years as God had supplied for his daily needs, but today he was just running. God could have easily taken care of mouthy Jezebel and her threats, but Elijah hadn’t asked. His faith was flagging and so was his will. Elijah was running–and God let him.
As we read the narrative, Elijah ran until he was exhausted. Then, instead of stopping the panicking prophet, the Lord sent an angel to feed him so he could continue the journey. Elijah actually traveled over 200 miles. He ran until he came to Mount Horeb (Sinai), the mountain of God, and hid himself in a cave. That is the place that God began speaking to him. He revealed that the situation was not nearly as dire as Elijah had assumed. There on the mountain, God gave Elijah the full picture, including the future plans for his own ministry. When the Elijah the man walked away from that divine appointment, he was once again the bold prophet with fire in his eyes. He had stood with God, and was reassured, recharged, and ready to face whatever came.
But do you know what I wondered about reading this passage from 1 Kings 19? Why didn’t God speak to Elijah before he put on his sneakers in Jezreel? Why didn’t His voice like thunder shake the ground when the prophet was pushing past Beersheba or when he was hiding under a tree in the wilderness? Why wasn’t the angel sent with a stop sign instead of a snack? Why did God let Elijah run?
I suspect that the answer is just that He is God. He knew all along that Elijah was not brave enough or bold enough to stand under the pressure of intimidation. He knew all along that Elijah was going to run–run away in fear, run away from confronting the threat, run to His mountain, run and wait for Him to speak. He is God, and He knew from the start what He was getting when He called Elijah to carry His word.
That fills me with hope. You see, the God that knew who Elijah was but called him anyway is the same God Who called me into relationship with Himself. When I was kneeling at an altar praying out my repentance, God already knew me. He knew I would be brave and bold in my Christian witness and buckle in front of the whispered threats of the enemy the next day. He knew when my zeal would burn like an inferno, and when it would flicker and dance like a candle. He knew I would get tired, even when I had experienced His love in a thousand different ways. He knew every moment my faith would flag. God knew when I would run, but He called me to Himself anyway.
So let me ask you, have you had your running shoes on lately? If you have found yourself weary from the busyness of life, facing situations that are too big, and listening to the devil roar that you are out of options, let me encourage you to take a page from Elijah’s playbook. Run to the mountain of the Lord. He will come close to you and speak peace until you are reassured, recharged, and ready to face life again. He is God and He knew you were coming.
I will love You, O Lord, my strength.The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; My God, my strength, in whom I will trust; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised; So shall I be saved from my enemies. (Psalms 18:1-3 NKJV)
I have read this passage of scripture several mornings in a row this week. In fact, I just can’t seem to push past it. As I am writing this blog post, I am still in recovery mode from a surgery on my ankle and this is the week I was told to begin weight-bearing as tolerated. If you have ever had anything like this done, you can understand that I am not enjoying the process. I am forcing myself to tolerate much more than is comfortable. Don’t get me wrong, I am ready to get up and go where I want without hopping along on a walker. I am a little giddy about the thought of driving in a car by myself again. But recovery hurts. My foot swells, stings, throbs and threatens to quit if I don’t settle back down.
So each morning before I have started the busy day, I have sat down with my Bible and my coffee mug and read this passage again slowly and methodically. Sometimes I have read it to myself, but mostly I have read it to the Lord. I am well aware that He doesn’t need the reminder, but I most certainly do.
God is a rock; actually, He is my rock. He steadies me when I don’t feel completely balanced on my own. Not only is He my firm footed stability, but He is also my fortress and my deliverer. I don’t have to defend myself because He is doing it. When I feel overwhelmed, I can lean into His unwavering love and care. He doesn’t give me strength as some divine gift so much as His presence is tenacity and endurance in my life. My future doesn’t depend on my own small abilities, but hinges on the stalwart might and purposes of my infinite, unchanging God. The calendar can remind me that my return to work date is getting close. My own body can complain as it once again fights toward mobility. But my tomorrow rests in His very capable and loving hands.
So I set my face toward heaven and I say it again, “I will love You, Lord. I will trust You. I will call upon You.” I have made my decision. I will intentionally love the Lord even when my emotions are all over the place. I will choose to trust Him even when the future looms ahead like a shadowy threat. I will call on Him because He is God, even when my enemy is my own slow-healing foot and the difficulty of the season. God is with me, the sun is up, and my crutches are near. Time to get moving.
