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Entries from December 1, 2011 - December 31, 2011

The Parable of Lost Sheep and "Bad" Friends

Saturday, December 31, 2011 at 12:08AM

Robin McMillan and I share the distinction of having preached at each other’s churches--but we’ve never met. Like ships passing in the night, we are both passionately in pursuit of the King and his kingdom, but we’ve never put into the same port at the same time. Robin is the pastor at Queen City Church in Charlotte, NC. He’s a man brimming with personal experiences with God: stories to tell and life to share. He blogs here and Tweets there. Check him out!

The parable of the lost sheep is one of a trilogy of stories found in Luke 15 that Jesus used in response to the Pharisees’ criticism of His choices of friends and social interactions. The New Testament reveals that some called Jesus a wine bibber and a glutton, others accused Him of being the illicit child of an immoral mother. He wasn’t from the right tribe, the right town, or the right school; he didn’t have the right doctrine as far as they were concerned. Jesus had no shortage of critics.

The Pharisees criticized Jesus for both eating with and receiving tax collectors and sinners. Jesus responded by telling the story of a shepherd who had 100 sheep, and one of them ran off. Jesus assumed each of the Pharisees should leave the 99 for the 1 by saying, “What man of you having a hundred sheep, if he loses one of them, does not leave the ninety nine in the wilderness, and go after the one which is lost until he finds it?” -- thereby identifying both himself and the Pharisees as shepherds, a despised occupation in their culture.
This parable doesn’t only locate the darkness in the hearts of the Pharisees, it identifies some in my heart as well. Most business men would cut their 1% loss and rejoice over still having 99% on hand. That would be my own business sense because that’s good business: it’s just not love, and certainly not the heart of God!
So far, what has Jesus done in just a few short sentences? Concluded that the Pharisees should identify with shepherds; revealed their self-centeredness and pride; and reframed their personal responsibility as ministers. Can anyone say “Ouch?”

Jesus also assumed some responsibility for the one sheep’s condition… “if he [the shepherd] loses one” (Luke 15:3). That’s a different approach than placing all the blame on the sheep for having run off!
Jesus said that a good shepherd would find the sheep and lay it on his shoulders, rejoicing. That’s not the normal response He knew to be present in the Hebrew culture, nor in ours today. I have heard (and others have taught) that the reason the shepherd put the sheep on his shoulders and carried him home was because the norm was for the shepherd to break the lamb’s leg for running off, to teach him a lesson. If we did the same with our children we would be put in jail or the Department of Social Services would come get our children! He put him on His shoulders because lost sheep are often paralyzed with fear and the only hope of getting home would be if someone picked them up and carried them. Jesus said a good shepherd would do so ‘rejoicing’!

Heaven’s joy is based on the returning of lost sheep to their true home, the shepherd’s house. Heaven rejoices more over one returning lamb than ninety-nine who need no repentance. Too bad there are no such ninety-nine who need no repentance. No one needs 'no repentance'. We all have needed to repent at one time or another, or maybe even more than that.

God is a good businessman. He knows the way to secure the hearts of the ninety-nine is leave them for love of the one. That one could have been you or me. In so doing He builds a house of love and honor that has the potential to shake the world and reveal the heart of God. The heart of God is thus revealed in this short four-verse parable. It begins to fulfill the prayer of Jesus in a dynamic way; “Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven.” That's our calling. That's our challenge. That's our joy.

(For insights and inspiration I offer much gratitude to Kenneth E. Bailey and his book: The Cross and the Prodigal: Luke 15 Through the Eyes of Middle East Peasants.)

Ray Hollenbach |

Your Top Five, My Top Five, and What's Ahead

Thursday, December 29, 2011 at 12:16AM

I’m a sucker for year-end recap articles, are you? If I find an article, The Top Ten Migrating Insects of 2011, I’ll read it! So here is the Students of Jesus 2011Rewind: your top five, my top five, guest posts, comments, Brangelina, and more!

Your Top Five for 2011:

Discovering the Word of God ~ Actually written in November of 2010, for some reason this post reignited in September and has been active nearly every day since. Maybe it’s the picture.

13 Thanksgiving Meditations ~ Another 2010 post, but since I love Thanksgiving more than Christmas or Easter, I’m happy this one’s alive and kicking. This year I wrote a snarky, satirical piece about Thanksgiving. Not even my Mom read it.

When Famous Christians are Gay ~ Yes, the top three posts in 2011 were all from 2010. Google drives this post on and on, apparently because a lot of people search famous, gay, and Christian.

Why Don’t North American Christians Raise the Dead? ~ At last, a 2011 post! This is an important discussion because it is so rarely brought up. A large number of people I meet simply doubt the facts of this story as I reported it. My personal feelings? If following Jesus is only an intellectual exercise, please count me out because I’m not smart enough.

The Tension of Love and Mystery: Why We Don’t Have to Know it All ~ If we really worship the all-knowing transcendent God of the universe, he’s probably not impressed with out intellect. What, then, does impress him?

My Top Five for 2011

~Or~ You’ll Break My Heart If You Don’t Like These:

The Distance Between Me and God ~ (It’s actually a two-fer, Part Two is here). Nearly every day I meet believers who feel the Father is far away from them. But how can a God who is everywhere be far away? And how do we make room for him?

The True Story ~ I’m pretty sure if we understand why the Father tells us stories we will quit arguing over the “facts” about the Bible. (Plus, I like the picture on this one)

The Single-File Parade ~ I write about dreams: some dreams I’ve actually had, and others I want to have. We should all have a dream like this.

The Case of the Really Short Skirt ~ Yes, it really happened, although when ChurchLeaders.com picked this story up, many comments accused me of making the whole thing up. I wish I had.

Lazarus Quenby and the Reasonable Dinner Party ~ First, I love the name Lazarus Quenby. Second, I used a fragment from a short story I wrote 30 years ago. Perhaps I should write fiction?

What I Saw at Church ~ In one fashion or another, I saw every bit of this in a single Sunday. And, yes, this the sixth link, even though I said five. That’s just you’d expect from a narcissist, isn’t it?

Most Popular Guest Post:
My Ugly/Beautiful Whore/Mother Church ~ Caleb Neff had something to say, and the tabloid-style headline didn’t hurt, either.

Most Comments:
Why Don’t North American Christians Raise the Dead? ~ Another shameful, attention-getting headline.

Best Metaphor:
What if Your Money’s No Good? ~ It has the added advantage of also being true.

The One I Wish I Hadn’t Written ~ All the book reviews. It’s really not in the center of what I do.

What’s ahead for 2012? Every Saturday: other writers will blog about the parables of Jesus. New voices, fresh perspective, and best of all--you don’t have to read my writing!

What are your choices for best or worst?

Ray Hollenbach |

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Journey of the Magi

Monday, December 26, 2011 at 12:02AM

During this Advent season we’ve looked at Mary, Joseph, Zechariah and the shepherds. For the final Christmas post of 2011, I want to share with you my favorite Christmas poem. It’s the perfect example of a sanctified imagination encountering the scripture: nothing trite or easy here, just art in service of the Lord of Glory. Merry Christmas, friends.

Journey of the Magi

~ T.S. Eliot

A cold coming we had of it,

Just the worst time of the year

For a journey, and such a long journey:

The ways deep and the weather sharp,

The very dead of winter.

And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,

Lying down in the melting snow.

There were times when we regretted

The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,

And the silken girls bringing sherbet.

Then the camel men cursing and grumbling

And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,

And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,

And the cities dirty and the towns unfriendly

And the villages dirty and charging high prices:

A hard time we had of it.

At the end we preferred to travel all night,

Sleeping in snatches,

With the voices singing in our ears, saying

That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,

Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;

With a running stream and a water mill beating the darkness,

And three trees on the low sky,

And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.

Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,

Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,

And feet kicking the empty wineskins.

But there was no information, and so we continued

And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon

Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,

And I would do it again, but set down

This set down

This: were we led all that way for

Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,

We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,

But had thought they were different; this Birth was

Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.

We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,

But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,

With an alien people clutching their gods.

I should be glad of another death.

Ray Hollenbach |

Ten Short Life-Lessons from Mary of Nazareth

Sunday, December 25, 2011 at 12:02AM

In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”

“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”

The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month. For nothing is impossible with God.”

“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me as you have said.” Then the angel left her. (Luke 1: 26-38)

Ten Life-Lessons from Mary of Nazareth:

In the sixth month . . . God’s clock was already ticking when the angel came to Mary. Just because God announces something to me doesn’t mean it began with me.

. . . pledged to be married . . . We have our plans. God has his.

. . . you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you . . . Notice the connection between His favor and His presence. How could it be otherwise?

. . . Mary was greatly troubled at his words . . . When his favor is upon us it can be unsettling.

. . . You will be with child . . . Sometimes we enlist in the puposes of God, sometimes we are drafted.

How will this be? . . . There is a world of difference between asking God “how” and asking him “why.”

The Holy Spirit will come upon you . . . When God answers the “how” question, this is the usual way He starts.

For nothing is impossible with God . . . You heard him.

I am the Lord’s servant . . . Even though Mary was drafted, she responds with a willing heart. It would make all the difference over the next 30 years.

Then the angel left her . . . There are times when we have angelic help, and there are times when we are on our own.

Merry Christmas, friends!

Ray Hollenbach |

The Parable of the Old Man's Vineyard

Saturday, December 24, 2011 at 12:03AM

If you blog long enough you end up meeting great people. Shawn Smucker is the friend of a friend of a friend--and I met that friend via blogging. Shawn, his wife, and four kids live in Paradise, literally (Paradise, PA--although I smell a tourism board at work somewhere). Everything I know about Shawn I know through the magic of the Interwebs, but I can tell you this: I like what I know, and if you check out his blog or follow him on the Twitter you will like it, too.

The old man bends over and picks up a handful of soil. Fertile soil. He runs it through his finger – it crumbles and falls heavily to the ground. The sound is like the pounding of the first raindrops.

All around him, activity: carts arriving with stone, hammers pounding boards together, and men shouting to one another. A high stone wall rises against the horizon. Inside it, huge green leaves drape down over the tiniest orbs: the beginnings of grapes. A tower rises in the center, overlooks the vineyard and the stone wall and the surrounding countryside. It is like the eye of God, the center of the universe.

The old man owns the vineyard, but something leads him away. Something demands his attention elsewhere. He leases the land to a group of farmers; they are eager to make their fortune on this man’s fully prepared estate. They don’t have to spend a penny – everything is ready. The crop is even planted. All they have to do is harvest it.

The old man leaves.

* * * * *

Months later, the harvest. The old man cannot return – perhaps he is frail. Perhaps he has many such vineyards and cannot be everywhere at once. In any case, he sends three of his most trusted servants to collect his share of the grapes.

The farmers stand in the tower they did not build, looking out over the vineyard they did not plant, surrounded by a wall of stones they did not hew. They see the servants approaching from a long way off. Perhaps they are worried that the old man is coming back to end the lease. Perhaps they have gotten used to their newfound wealth, having made no initial investment.

They meet the servants outside the stone wall. They beat the first one until he can only watch. They kill the next one instantly. But they surround the third servant and begin the slow work of murder by stoning until he is nothing but a hunk of bloody meat and exposed bone, his heart still beating. Then they draw closer and throw stones at his head until he dies, his skull crushed.

The farmers walk back inside the stone wall. The beaten servant returns to the old man. His is a slow, painful journey.

* * * * *

The old man sends more servants. Perhaps if they see that he is persistent, and that he can come in greater numbers, they will simply give him his fair share.

But the farmers have gone too far. They cannot reverse their course. When this new batch of servants arrives, the farmers beat some, kill others. Blood forms small pools on the road leading up to the vineyard. The bodies draw flies. Inside, the farmers continue to harvest the grapes, their fingers stained by the juice.

* * * * *

The old man stares out from his house, far from the vineyard. He ponders the news – more servants killed. Still no payment. The sun sets, yellows and reds and oranges streaking across the sky. He can walk away, count the venture as lost. Or he can still try to reconcile with them.

He calls out to a servant who approaches with humility.

“Yes, my Lord?”

The old man pauses, and as the sky slips toward darkness, he whispers something. He does not tell the servant to gather an ever larger contingent. He does not tell the servant to send for mercenaries by which he will win back his vineyard. No, he asks for something different.

“Bring me my son.”

* * * * *

Sending his son is not a power play, at least not in the brute force sense of power. The son is not some special forces operative planning on sneaking in and killing them all in their sleep. He is not leading a group of soldiers. He is going alone.

His father sends him in hopes that the farmers will be reminded. Who owns this vineyard? Who built the stone wall? The tower? To whom does all of this belong? The old man is hoping that the farmers will see his son as the embodiment of himself, and that they will respect his son as they respected him before he left.

But as the son approaches, the farmer’s meet him outside the stone wall. There is a moment of silence as the son stares at the men. They kill him without remorse.

The old man has no other heir to take over his estate, they reason. We can own the vineyard.

The son lies dead outside the vineyard. It is finished. Or so the farmers believe.

* * * * *

What will the old man do to the farmers? Jesus asked the leaders.

He’ll kill them and lease the vineyard to those who give him his fair share, they exclaimed.

So I tell you, Jesus said, that the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to people who do the things God wants in his kingdom.

* * * * *

What do I say to God when he asks me to return these things that have always been his? Do I trust him with my children? With my money? With my dreams?

Am I prepared to do the things he asks me to do, even when it involves giving my most precious possessions back to him?

Offering, and not acquisition, has always formed the entrance to the kingdom.

Ray Hollenbach |

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