Monday, 1 September 2014

Saturday, 9 August 2014

Unworthy

For as long as I’ve read this passage in the bible, it has puzzled me. I told a couple friends yesterday that I would be speaking this weekend on Mark 7:24-30, the story about this woman approaching Jesus to heal her daughter. Now, Jesus does a lot of healing in the gospels, but when I said to my friends, “It’s the one where Jesus talks about the dogs,” they both went, “Oooh, that one.”

Maybe you know it too. It’s the kind of passage you only need to have read once for it to stick in your mind. A woman comes to Jesus in desperation. She is begging him to heal her daughter. And Jesus says to her, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”

Man, what did Jesus mean by that? For the past fifteen, sixteen years, I have been asking that question. “Lord, isn’t that harsh?” It’s not the kind of passage you hear sermons on. Prodigal son, sure. Parable of the soils, you get that - at least - once a year. But the one where Jesus compares the Gentile woman to a dog? When was the last time you heard that preached in your church, or taught in Sunday school?

I don’t think it’s because we are offended by that story. I think it’s because we are confused. Maybe, like me, you’ve looked at this passage before and gone, “That’s just too difficult. I need to know the Greek word for ‘dog’.” Or, if you are a pastor or a bible study leader, maybe it’s because you are afraid it will offend someone else who is visiting your church. “What if a non-Christian walks in who has never read the bible before? He’s never going to come back.”

So, we skip this passage. Lots of other great stories in Mark’s gospel to cover. No need to dwell on this one. The problem is, it is right next to some really popular bible passages: the one where Jesus feeds the five thousand. The one where Jesus says, “It’s not what goes into a man but what comes out of him that defiles him.” Those passages. And every time we preach those powerful words in our churches, our congregation is going to notice, “Hey, what about this one right in the middle.” And they are going to leave wondering, “Maybe it’s just me who doesn’t get it. Maybe, it’s not so important as the other big statements that Jesus makes in the bible.”

Now, I don’t have some special insight on this particular passage. What I have is a confession that I have been ducking this difficult part of the bible myself. So a couple of weeks ago when I got the invitation to speak at a local church gathering, I prayed, “God, I’ll try. Please don’t let me mess up.” It’s not boldness, it’s a confession of sin and cowardliness; an act of repentance. I want to be able to say to my God, “I’m not cherry-picking my favourite stories. I want to speak what you want me to speak.”

When I spent the first couple of days just reading this passage, over and over again, I’ll be honest; it was hard. I just didn’t get it. And it made me so nervous. “What an idiot.” I was worried that I was motivated by pride: intentionally choosing a hard passage to preach on, and it definitely was there; that temptation to prove myself. Each time, I would go to God in prayer, asking for his forgiveness, begging for his help. I read around the passage. I read Mark’s gospel. I went through the commentaries, the Greek, for both this and Matthew’s version of the same event. In the end, I got no further than I had started. I was stuck.

But something strange happened. I found myself being intrigued by Jesus’ words in a way I haven’t been for some years. In the past, when preparing a sermon, my prayer would be, “Lord, help me to be clear. Help me to understand your word and to preach it as clearly and faithfully as possible.” These past week, my prayers have been, “Lord, help to understand you. Why are you speaking like this? What were you thinking?” I was being surprised by Jesus in a way I hadn’t been for a long time. The passage made me curious, like I was reading God’s word for the very first time. I was stuck, yes. But I became dependant, curious, anxious, excited about who this book was talking about: Jesus.

He surprised me. It made me realise that I had been taking him for granted. It made me realise I had my own impressions about Jesus that I was used to and comfortable with; that I relied on those impressions to assume he would act a certain way or do certain things. After all, I have been a Christian for seventeen years. I have preached about him to others. Of course, I know what he’s like. But I was speaking about, praying to and worshipping at the feet of an impression. A right impression, no doubt, to some degree, but still, an impression. And God was using this passage to remind me that the bible is his Living Word, actively speaking about a Living Saviour. And that I need to keep coming back to this book to be renewed in my mind about who it was who died on the cross for my sin.

The title of the sermon is, “Have you met Jesus?” By the end of it, I hope that Christians and non-Christians alike, will be able to answer that question; either ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. The service is an event specially organised for guests at the Harry’s and Andy’s international cafe’s. Most have never stepped into a church building before. Most have never heard the bible read. Most have never met Jesus.

Why then this passage? In Mark’s gospel, it is the section in all sixteen chapters of the gospel, where Jesus crosses the border and speaks to a Gentile. Everywhere else, Jesus is on home territory speaking to a home crowd. This is the only place in the whole bible where Jesus engages with an international, in an international context - in a global mission context - to use a modern term.

Furthermore, Jesus does the most powerful miracle in all of Mark’s gospel - save the cross - right here in this passage. We read that the woman’s daughter is healed, that the demon is driven out of her. But the amazing thing is, Jesus doesn’t say word. He doesn’t go down to her house. He just says to her mum, “Go home. It’s done.” Nowhere else does Jesus do this (the closest is the healing of the Roman commander’s son in Matthew 8, an encounter with another Gentile). Everywhere else Jesus says a word or if you look at just the verses after this (Mark 7:31-37), he spits and touches the guys’ tongue and ears (bleagh). Not here. Jesus just says, “Go.”

For those two reasons alone - that this passage is expressly written for internationals, and that this is the most powerful healing miracle in answer to the prayer of an international - well, why not this passage? But there is a more compelling third reason. This passage about the Gentile woman’s faith, I think, is crucial if we are to understand the surrounding passages about what it means for us to put our faith in Jesus as God’s people.

If you remember, Mark Chapter 6 (the chapter before) records the amazing miracle of Jesus feeding the five thousand. And you may or may not realise this, but Mark Chapter 8 (the chapter after) has Jesus feeding the four thousand. In both cases, Jesus multiplies the bread and the fish. In both cases, the disciples collect the leftovers - seven basketfulls in Chapter 6 and twelve basketfulls in Chapter 8.

Now keep that in mind as we look at what Jesus says to the Gentile woman.

“First let the children eat all they want,” he told her. “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to their dogs.”
“Yes, Lord,” she replied. “But even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
Mark 7:27-28

Jesus directly connects her request for healing with the imagery of the bread. You simply cannot read that and not think of the feeding of the five thousand and the four thousand happening before and after. They are like a huge sandwich - two big pieces of bread - sandwiching this encounter with the Gentile woman, as if to say: This is what it is all pointing to. Jesus says to her, “Do you realise what you are asking me to do? You want me to give you this bread which is reserved for God’s children in God’s family. That’s not right.”

As first impressions go, Jesus sounds insensitive, cruel, racist, insulting. But within the context of Chapters 6 to 8, Jesus is opening our eyes to see that this is not some isolated incident involving yet another random healing event of another random person. This Gentile woman’s response is crucial if we are to understand what Jesus is doing, not just among the nations but also amongst God’s chosen people. He is testing them.

After all, we know from John’s gospel, he does the exact same thing back in Israel. In John Chapter 6, the crowds come to Jesus - having just experienced the miracle of the bread - and they say to him, “Give us this bread always.”

Jesus replies, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.” What happens next? They leave. Everyone is gone. Jesus is too strange for his own people. “This guy is just weird. He wants us to eat his flesh.” Jesus tests them. He tells him he is the bread. And they leave. They fail the test.

But not this Gentile woman. She passes the test. “Yes, Lord.” “I don’t deserve the bread,” she’s saying. “I don’t deserve to be in God’s family,” she hears the same difficult words of testing from Jesus and she passes. “But even the dogs under the table eat the crumbs.” Remember what the disciples did in collecting the baskets and baskets… of crumbs? She’s saying, “That’s all I’m after. The leftovers that the children have dropped on the floor after they have stuffed themselves full. The crumbs.”

Five hundred years ago, Thomas Cranmer wrote a prayer we still say today in our churches. “We do not presume to come before this, your table, merciful Lord, trusting in our righteousness, but in your manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy even so much as to gather up the crumbs under your table.” Where is that from?

You see, five hundred years ago, Cranmer looked at this passage and concluded, this is us. This is who we are before a holy, awesome God: unworthy. Like this woman, we come before God with nothing to our credit except our sin. But still we come, trusting not in ourselves, but in the same gracious, loving, merciful Lord Jesus Christ, who spoke to that woman two thousand years ago.

But there is a difference. Unlike that woman, we come before God asking for the bread. The prayer continues, “Grant us, therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat this bread and drink this cup, that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body, and our souls washed by his precious blood.” Unlike this woman, we know that Jesus offers us more than crumbs. He gives us a seat at the table as God’s sons and daughters in his family.

To the Israelites, who had their fill, who came to Jesus looking for more bread, Jesus says, “I am the bread.” And they reject him. He says to the woman, “This bread is not for you,” and she replies, “All I’m looking for is the leftovers.” This woman who is so desperate, so hungry, so helpless, bows before Jesus and places him above her desperation, above her hunger, above her needs.

Friends, the most loving thing God can for us is not to give us what we want, not simply because most times we ask with wrong motives. Even if what we want is something good - healing, security, stability, peace - all good things, but there is yet something else more infinitely precious our loving God offers us. He gives us himself.

“It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” Yet on the cross, that’s precisely what happens. God the Father takes all of Jesus’ righteousness, goodness and love; he gives it to us. And he takes our sin, our hatred, our punishment and puts it on his own son. We get taken in. Jesus gets kicked out.

That’s the gospel, or at least, Jesus’ presentation of the gospel to this Gentile stranger in a Gentile land. He doesn’t say that to many people, but out of love, he says it to this woman. “Do you understand what I am about to do for you? Do you understand the cost, the scandal, the pain that is involved.”

“Yes, Lord,” she replies.

Have you met this Jesus - before whom we are not worthy to pick the crumbs from under his table - but who makes us worthy by taking our punishment on the cross and giving us his place at his Father’s table? Have you met Jesus who surprises us again and again with his grace in forgiving our sin and restoring us as sons and daughters of God? If so, you can pray this prayer. You are in the family.

We do not presume to come to this, your table, merciful Lord, trusting in our righteousness, but in your manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under your table. But you are the same Lord whose nature is always to have mercy.

Grant us, therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat this bread and to drink this cup that our bodies might be made clean by his body, and our souls washed through his precious blood, and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us.

Amen.

Saturday, 2 August 2014

Even the dogs (Mark 7:24-30)

And from there he arose and went away to the region of Tyre and Sidon. And he entered a house and did not want anyone to know, yet he could not be hidden.
Mark 7:24

  • Jesus is on holiday. That’s the reason he is Tyre and Sidon. That’s the reason he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s in Tyre and Sidon. Jesus is on a holiday.
  • In the build-up to this passage, Jesus has been hounded by the masses: The five thousand people in Chapter 6, the Pharisees in Chapter 7. It’s not that Jesus doesn’t have time for people. If you remember, he feeds the five thousand. He heals the sick. The bible tells us: “He had compassion on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd.” (Mark 6:34)
  • But in spite of this, Jesus isn’t looking for attention. It is strangely comforting to see Jesus worn out by his popularity. Again and again, he slips away from the crowds - either to pray or to be with his friends (Mark 6:31,46). Even Jesus needs a break from ministry. Even Jesus needs time to be with God.
  • So here, in verse 24, Jesus crosses the border to the region of Tyre and Sidon. This was Gentile territory. Here, there would be no followers. No Pharisees.
  • But it didn’t work.

But immediately a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit heard of him and came and fell down at his feet.
Mark 7:25

  • This woman doesn’t care that Jesus is on holiday. She is a mom - and moms care about one thing: Their kids.
  • Verse 25 tells us that this woman’s daughter has an unclean spirit. Now I know we want to say that this little girl is “very ill”, but the truth is we don’t know what her illness is. Is she suffering? Is she dying? We don’t know. Instead what we do know is that this illness was caused by Satan. Four times, the passage tell us that a demon - or an unclean spirit - is behind the attack.
  • “And she begged him to to cast the demon out of her daughter.” (Mark 7:26) This woman is on her knees begging Jesus, “Please… I love my daughter. You must help her.”  
  • Some of us look at that and think, “I would never do that!” And maybe you wouldn’t. But do you know who would? Your mom, who loves you, who would do anything for you. She would do this.
  • This woman falls at Jesus’ feet. She doesn’t care about embarrassing herself or being an inconvenience to Jesus. She loves her daughter and she would do anything for her daughter.
  • The first thing we see is that she’s a mom. But the bible tells us another important thing about this woman and that’s verse 26.

Now the woman was a Gentile, a Syrophoenician by birth.
Mark 7:26

  • The point of this verse is to say: This woman has no connection to Jesus. She was born in a different country. She comes from a different culture.
  • And most importantly, she worships a different god. This woman has never stepped into a church building her entire life. Yet here she is kneeling before Jesus and calling him Lord.
  • What’s going on? Maybe she is desperate. “Who cares if Jesus is God? If he can help me, I’ll go to church. If he blesses me, I’ll worship him.” Many people think that way when they come to Jesus Christ. They want him to do something for them.
  • But as we will see from this passage, that is not the case with this woman. Even though she has nothing in common with Jesus - even though she desperately needs something from Jesus - she puts him above her needs. She humbles herself and calls him Lord.
  • What Jesus does next is test this woman’s faith. In effect, he says to her, “Do you understand what you are asking me to do for you?”
  • Look at verse 27.

And he said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”
Mark 7:27

  • Why does Jesus say this? He is testing her. He says to the woman, “What you are asking me to do… is not OK.” “It is not right,” Jesus says, “to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” “You are asking me to give you something that does not belong to you.”
  • That sounds harsh, doesn’t it? How can Jesus speak to her like that? It’s bad enough that Jesus says, “This blessing does not belong to you,” but why does he have to talk about throwing food to dogs? That sounds disrespectful, doesn’t it?
  • How many of you, if Jesus said that to you, would get angry? Imagine that you are praying to God and a voice from heaven answers: “It is not right to take something that belongs in my family and give it to you, a stranger.” Would you walk out the door? “I’ll never worship you again.” If God said those words to you, would you get angry? I think I would.
  • But that is what makes this woman so unique. She doesn’t get upset. She keeps trusting Jesus to help her. In fact, what she says is, “You’re absolutely right!”

But she answered him, “Yes, Lord; yet even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
Mark 7:28

  • She says to Jesus, “I’m not asking for the full meal. I’m just want the leftovers.”
  • “Even the dogs ...eat the children’s crumbs.” “I’m don’t need a chair to sit on. I’m here for a crumb under the table.” In Chinese, we would say “Tah Pau.” “Jesus, all I want is a crumb.”
  • It is possible to read this as a cheeky response. She twists Jesus’ words into her favour. “Think of me as the family pet! The kids love sneaking a few chicken nuggets to Shelby when mum and dad aren’t looking.”
  • I don’t think so. She isn’t being cheeky or funny, though, she is being bold in bargaining with the Lord. No, she is admitting to Jesus, “I do not deserve a place at the table, I know that. But I also know that you are gracious and merciful Lord. With all the blessings that you pour out on your people, there will be leftovers. I just want a crumb.”
  • Because of her response, Jesus heals her daughter. “You may go… the demon has left your daughter.” (Mark 7:29) By the way, this is the most powerful healing miracle Jesus does in the whole gospel. Everywhere else, Jesus says a prayer, he puts his finger into the deaf man’s ears; he either says something or does something to perform the miracle. Except here. It just happens.
  • Meaning: It was a crumb. This powerful miraculous act of removing an unclean spirit was no big deal for Jesus. “You may go.” Could Jesus heal her? Of course he could. So why didn’t he? Why talk about dogs and food at the family table?
  • Because he wants to do more for this woman. He wants her to have a relationship. He wants her to be in the family.
  • Five hundred years ago, a man named Thomas Cranmer wrote a prayer. It goes like this:

We do not presume to come to this your Table, merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in your manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under your Table. But you are the same Lord, whose nature is always to have mercy.
  • It is a prayer that puts us in the woman’s shoes. “We are not worthy even of the crumbs.” Christians pray say this to God. “We know we don’t deserve your love. We know we don’t deserve the crumbs.”
  • But we also say, “Lord, please give us the bread.”

Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat this bread and drink this cup, that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body, and our souls washed through his precious blood, and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us. Amen.

  • “Grant us… gracious Lord, … to eat this bread.” It’s not talking about food. Jesus is the bread. Jesus is giving us himself.
  • Do you see why Jesus says, “It is not right to give the bread” He is saying to the woman, “Do you understand what it takes for me to answer your prayer? I will be kicked out so that you can be taken in.”
  • That is what happens on the cross. He dies in our place, he suffers our punishment so that we can receive his sonship. So that we can be in God’s family.
  • Have you met this Jesus? Who offers us more than crumbs; who offers us more than bread - who offers us his life to save us from death?
  • If so, accepting the offer means eating the bread. It means humbling ourselves and saying to God, “Thank you for Jesus’ death on the cross. Thank you for making your son/your daughter through his sacrifice.”

Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat this bread and drink this cup, that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body, and our souls washed through his precious blood, and that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in us.

Amen.

Sunday, 29 June 2014

Two ways to die (Phil 1:12-26)

Paul is crazy

Paul is crazy. This guy is either out of his mind or he is fooling himself into thinking that it’s better to die - and be with Christ, so he says - than to be freed from prison. People are making fun of him - no surprise why. And what is his reaction?

“I don’t care.”

Who are you kidding, Paul? Do you seriously expect us to believe it doesn’t bother you that pastors are preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ with selfish ambition in their hearts?

Seriously?

Friends, I don’t mean to be disrespectful. But I want to be honest about our reaction to Paul. I know we’ve all heard that sermon by John Piper; the one where he says, “To die is… gain!” All of us went, “Yes!” … in the comfort of our living rooms in front of our laptop screens.

A friend of mine has months to live. With each day he gets weaker. With each day the pain gets worse. Let me tell you: Death is grim, not gain. And, let’s be honest: We don’t know what it’s like to be in prison. We don’t know what it means to face death.

But here’s the thing. Paul wants us to know. He says, in verse 12:

I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually served to advance the gospel.
Philippians 1:12

Because of my chains

He says, “It’s become clear - it’s become obvious - that I am in chains for Christ.” Because of these chains, non-Christians are paying attention to this gospel. Because of these chains, Christians are opening their mouths to speak this gospel.

Paul wants us to know: that God uses chains - God uses suffering - to advance the gospel. But verse 15 tells us: Not everyone sees it this way.

It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry... (verse 17) They preach Christ out of selfish ambition, supposing they can stir up trouble for me (Literally, it says, ‘Supposing they can add to my chains’).
Philippians 1:15-17

Do you know why Paul is in prison when he wrote this letter? Acts 26, verse 32; King Agrippa says, “This man could have been set free if he hadn’t appealed to Caesar.” Meaning: If he’d kept his big mouth shut he wouldn’t be in situation. It’s his own fault!

What started out as a small incident in Jerusalem was now a big court case in Rome, it was threatening to affect the rest of us law-abiding, peace-loving Christians. “Thank you, Mr Apostle. Thanks, for nothing.” That’s what these guys were saying.

What Paul is saying is:, “Thank God. Thank God that you are finally talking about Jesus with your friends.” Verse 18:  “...whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice.”

It doesn’t mean Paul wasn’t hurt by their comments. It means he sees the big picture. God uses suffering. God uses chains. God uses critical Christians to advance the gospel.

Yes, and I will continue to rejoice

Verse 19:

Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance.
Philippians 1:19

Is he saying, “Thank you for praying. I think I’ve got a good chance of getting out”? Is that what he’s saying? No, it’s actually the opposite. It’s a quote from Job 13, “Though he slay me, yet I will hope in him… Indeed, this will turn out for my deliverance.” Even if this court condemns me to death, I will appear before a heavenly court, before a heavenly Judge. And He will vindicate me to life.

Verse 20:

I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage (meaning: This is not easy) so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.
Philippians 1:20-21

I assume you’ve heard of something called Two Ways To Live; A way of telling people the gospel: You live God’s way or you live your own way. There are Two Ways To Live.

Today I am going to tell you Two Ways To Die. Brand new. You heard it first here at TEAM. Two Ways To Die. Get Rico Tice on the phone.

Two ways to Die

Two Ways to Die. It goes like this: It’s the day you die.

You are surrounded by people you love. You’ve lived a good life. You’ve been faithful, loving. You are a sinner. But you trust in Christ’s righteousness, not your own. And on this last day you say goodbye. You close your eyes and wake up to see Jesus embracing you into his kingdom. That’s a good way to die.

But there is another way. You die in prison. You die in agony and worse of all, you die alone. You know there are those who love you with a fierce love. But you also know there are those who hate your guts.

And your concern is for those you are leaving behind. If you had one more day, you would write one more email, one more text. You would say, “Hang on to Jesus. Keep on trusting in Jesus.”

But day has come when the silver cord is cut. You wake up and see Jesus. And something inside you says, “Gain.”

Gain.

Now, both ways are good - good ways to die - if you’re a Christian. (If you’re not a Christian, we need to talk after this.) But Paul wants us to know that this second way is not a bad way to go. Don’t be afraid. Don’t be ashamed of this second way. God has given us a Saviour worth living and dying for.

What are you going to do after TEAM? Here we are learning to preach the gospel. What are you going to do with this knowledge? Join another course? What is the most risky - I’m not saying, foolish - but what’s the most risky thing you could do with your life - if you weren’t worried about comfort or approval or death? Where could you go? What could you do?

Paul says: It is my eager expectation and hope that I will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body. Whether by life or by death.