students of jesus

Perhaps you’re like me: from time to time I catch myself thinking, “If only I had a little more faith I could be a better disciple.” Actually, we could substitute nearly any other quality for the word faith, “if only I had a little more teaching, time, energy . . .” Most of us are keenly aware of the qualities we lack as followers of Jesus. We possess the assurance of our weakness instead of the assurance of his faithfulness.

Let me share with you a passage from Peter’s second letter that changed my life forever:
"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires. For this very reason, make every effort . . ." ~ 2 Peter 1: 3 - 5

When I read this passage several years ago it flashed like lightning across my heart, and the thunder still rattles my everyday life. Let me share seven meditations from these amazing words. Perhaps you could carry them with you, one each day, though even a whole day is not enough time to consider the implications of each statement.

• “His divine power . . .” As followers of Jesus, our everyday life in Christ should be based upon his divine power, not our human strength.

• “has given us everything we need for life and godliness . . .” The problem is, most of us think that God did everything on the cross and now the rest of our life in Christ depends upon us. Good news: he isn’t finished dispensing his grace!

• “through our knowledge of him . . .” Road block—our western mindset leads us to believe that the knowledge of him comes through mere study. A more fruitful approach is to know him by experiencing his presence.

• “his own glory and goodness. . . ” 21st century Americans have difficulty understanding “glory,” but his glory can impact our life—and he is good beyond all measure. Better yet: his glory and goodness are directed toward us!

• “He has given us very great and precious promises . . .” Do we ever reflect upon his promises? I’m afraid that for most of us his promises are like autumn leaves: beautiful, but not very useful.

• “So that through them you may participate in the divine nature . . .” Here is where the lightning flash knocked me over. We can participate in God’s nature, right here, right now. Who knows the full meaning of this phrase? Whatever it means, it has to be good!

• “and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires . . . “ Many believers are trapped into thinking the gospel is only about forgiveness, but the good news is even better: we can be set free from the cycle of corruption!

These are the seven meditations, but there remains one further step. The scripture calls us to action as well:

“For this very reason, make every effort . . .” Notice that “effort” comes after we encounter his divine power, his glory and goodness, and his precious promises. Too many disciples of Jesus, serious in their commitment to follow him, believe that their effort comes first. Instead, our effort is a response to all he has done.

“For this very reason, make every effort . . .” But there is another segment of Christians who think effort is opposed to grace. For these friends we can only quote Dallas Willard (as we do so often!) “Grace is not opposed to effort, it is opposed to earning.”

The challenge of this passage continues into verses 5 – 11. The danger of these next verses is that we believe we can accomplish the list apart from his divine power, his glory and goodness, and his precious promises. Don’t be in a hurry. Take a week to meditate on what he has done. It will take a lifetime to “make every effort.”

I’ve decided to do a bit of griping today—but only for one paragraph. Be warned. Here it comes.

The blogosphere is filled with criticism, finger pointing and name-calling between family members. A famous Christian minister says something stupid (and it was stupid) and before you can say “trending topic” he is pummeled by criticism from others within the faith. Someone is hurt by their mistreatment at a local church, so they adopt Lone Ranger status and start a new blog about how the “real” church has nothing to do with organized religion. One faction of believers promotes an opinion and, in response, another faction labels them heretical or dangerous. It’s Jersey Shore for believers, only uglier.

There. I vented for one paragraph. But—no surprise—I don’t feel any better, nor have I changed anyone’s opinion or behavior. We all remain the same.

There’s a more excellent way. In my frustration, I reach for an island of transcendent sanity. I turn the pages until I read: “The end of all things is near. Therefore be alert and of sober mind so that you may pray. Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.” (1 Peter 4:7-10)

One phrase shines through the layers of meaning in Peter’s words: “love covers over a multitude of sins.” He is talking about a community of people who gave received the great treasure of God’s grace and are called upon to steward that treasure by how they treat one another. This stewardship includes the kind of love capable of protecting others from themselves: love refuses to reveal the sinfulness of others. To publicly expose the sins of others indicates a lack of love.

Who will help me? In my shameful state I need a love that throws a garment over of my ugly nakedness—the nakedness I have put on display by my selfish, egotistical, controlling words and choices toward others. Who will protect me if not the members of my own family?

This week’s meditation is a quiet reflection and openness toward the Holy Spirit. He can help us explore the depth of our love toward others. We can simply ask him: Does my love cover other's sin?

There's a difference between excusing sin and covering it. Can I hold people—especially members of God’s family--accountable without exposing them?

Our call to steward God’s grace goes beyond our personal relationships and extends to everyone with whom the Father has a personal relationship. It means we learn to love others for simply no other reason than that the Father loves them. It means loving all the church. When I rail against the sins of the church I am simply demonstrating my lack of love for her.

We are each given a stewardship of grace. We can be like the man who foolishly held his one talent and chose not to multiply it. We can keep God’s grace to ourselves, or multiply God’s grace by extending it to others.

I sing today in praise of grandmothers. Those loving, accepting, wiser-than-they-let-on souls who never stop welcoming you no matter your age. They feed you at the drop of a napkin and pile your plate high with food prepared by ethereal love. Grandma would never think of holding back the mashed potatoes--she’ll give you a portion obscenely large, carbohydrates mountain-high flowing with gravy rivers.

A stingy granny is an oxymoron, a sad misfit of nature. Honestly, who thinks their grandmother wouldn’t give all she had? And yet--beloved as she might be--your grandmother doesn’t set a table like Jesus.

Consider these few words from Ephesians: “But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it.” (4:7) Now stop and ask, what kind of portion would Jesus give? No one has trouble imagining the goodness of grandma. Why then is it so hard to imagine the grace of God flowing out in portions high and deep, prepared in a kitchen where the supply never ends and the Master Chef knows our every need?

Read it again: “But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it.” So many of us stumble on the word "apportion." We let our fears tell us that Jesus will somehow hold something back because of our boneheaded behavior or headstrong ways. We are tempted to think he will only feed us when we’ve been good, or when he needs us to do something for him.

“Ahem, ahem,” says the short theologian with a flower in her hat. “Paul is talking about gifts like apostle, prophet, evangelist, pastor or teacher. Always read the context,” she says. “Paul is talking about how Jesus provides for the church. It’s a specific kind of grace. We should not expect he gives everyone the same portion.” Then the confining logic of loveless interpretation begins to close us in.

Perhaps, I say. Perhaps that’s true. Except I’ve supped at his table, I’ve feasted with him in the here and now, before his great marriage feast is even under way. I can tell you he piles the grace high and deep. Not just forgiving grace: grace for hope, grace for starting again, grace for growth, the grace of leadership, community, love, and vision. He makes new wine for those who have already had too much. He feeds multitudes and leaves baskets more behind.

If we need context for this one verse I choose the context that reminds us “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” --or-- “Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given.”

If you have trouble with the idea that Christ apportions grace, perhaps it’s because those who taught you that verse lost sight of what size portions Jesus gives. For a joyful mediation, imagine the Lord of glory ringing the bell on the front porch, calling out across the ranch:
Ho! Everyone who’s thirsty,
    come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
    come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
    without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
    and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
    and you will delight in the richest of fare.

The best lies always use a bit of the truth. One of the weaknesses of giving ourselves seriously to spiritual formation is that after we understand the importance responding to God’s grace, it’s easy to get idea that God has done everything he’s going to do. The rest is up to me, we think. I must meditate, pray, serve, study, contemplate, isolate, and even celebrate on my own. Jesus showed me how it’s done, died on the cross, paid the price, and now it’s up to me to respond.

There’s a measure of truth to such thinking, but that’s where the lie takes hold. Truth is, the Father is willing to do still more on our behalf. God's grace is the disciple’s fuel for life.

James 4:6 reminds us: “But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.’” More grace. Greater grace. All the more grace. James was speaking from experience, not theory. I think he discovered the multi-layered grace of God as he learned to humble himself again and again. When we humble ourselves we position ourselves for greater grace.

One sure indicator of a religiously closed mind is the firm conviction that we have this Jesus thing figured out. We can handle it. The religiously-closed mind is only interested in exporting its brand of spirituality, but it’s impossible to drink in God’s grace if we do nothing but tell others how to live. Self-discipline has great power, but it comes at the risk of locating the source of that power in ourselves instead of the grace of God. If will-power alone brings spiritual growth, we have no need for his daily presence. The distinguishing mark between grace-empowerment and fleshly self discipline is that self-discipline says to others, “If I do it, why can’t you?”

The grace-empowered disciple realizes the daily need for his presence. With that presence amazing things are possible. The Apostle Paul lived a disciplined and focused life before God, but he was a force of super-nature, not nature. The grace-empowered disciple says, along with the Apostle Paul (1 Corinthians 15:10), “By the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect.” As we give ourselves this week to the spiritual disciplines laid out in scripture, let’s meditate as well on the source of our achievement in God.

A young girl named Mary told us what was coming. Jesus would specialize in turning things topsy-turvy:
“he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
he has brought down the mighty from their thrones
     and exalted those of humble estate;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
    and the rich he has sent away empty.”
We rejoice as the scene is played out again and again: Jesus lifts an adulterous woman up from the dust after her accusers have been silenced; Jesus shuts the mouths of the lawyers and scribes by asking them questions they cannot answer; Jesus screams “Woe to you” seven times at the those who think they have special insight into the ways of God.

Mary’s song is true today as well.

We love Jesus because he can stick it to the Man. He is the Icon of the Father and iconoclast of the fat cats. We see in him an ancient model of our modern selves. Deep inside we knew the Establishment types were just gaming the system and using religion to prop themselves up and keep the rest of us down. This is the kick-ass Jesus who has finally exposed all the posers and fakes in the church, the Jesus who is even now leading the charge down the aisle, away from the altar, and out the red double-doors. The Jesus who has finally confirmed all our judgments about the hypocrites and losers who populate organized religion. Jesus the hipster is turning over the tables in God’s house again. Finally, a Jesus who will tell those guys off.

Or, is it possible we’ve once again created him in our own image? Again. Mary’s song is true today as well, but perhaps the rolls have been reframed.

In modern society we love to point out that Jesus ate with tax collectors and prostitutes. He crossed social boundaries. He was the friend of sinners. Sometimes we fail to note there is another group with whom he regularly dined: pharisees. What if Jesus reclined with pharisees for the very same reason he ate with the outcasts? What if he had the same mission whether he ate with Zacchaeus the taxman or with Simon the Pharisee? What if he cared for both? Perhaps the Lord knew we were all sick, all in need of a doctor.

Reading our rebellious ways into the ministry of Jesus is one of the dangers of our present age. We might assume he converted every sinner and condemned every priest. We might assume he ditched the synagogue for a day at the lake, or went to the Temple only to turn the tables. We might be surprised to discover that he loved his Father’s house, or considered the Law as sweet as honey, or longed to hear the prophets read week after week.

The same man who welcomed Matthew the tax collector was also friends with Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea. The same man who healed and returned lepers to the community of Israel also had mercy on the daughter of a synagogue leader. The shepherd of Israel cared for the whole flock and fed all the sheep. Later, he went so far as to chase down Saul, that murderous “pharisee of pharisees” and drafted him into the Kingdom cause.

If we choose to follow the Master we must be prepared to follow him into any house. In his day the disciples were shocked because he crossed the threshold of a sinner’s home. Perhaps today he shocks us by crossing the threshold of the church? Both houses stand in desperate need of his grace, and those who will carry such grace with them.