But he is longing to give us all we need.
Sure, what we think we need and what he thinks we need probably vary greatly, but we know that he is good and that he is love. David, in Psalm 18 begins by exclaiming “I love you, Lord” and then proceeds to mix adoration and praise with the story of what God did. David, you see, was in a place of desperation, with “[t]he ropes of death entangled [him].” He was definitely in a place of need. And he cried out to Jesus, and his prayer was heard. Then, in verses 7 through, ultimately the end of the chapter, David tells of what God did. He rescued him from near death and put him in kingship of a very powerful little kingdom in the Middle East. The most profound verses to me, however, are not about the elevation of King David, but rather, are verses 15 and 16 in combination with verse 30. David says, “Then at your command, O Lord, / at the blast of your breath, / the bottom of the sea could be seen, / and the foundations of the earth were laid bare.” God leveled things, he peeled back the seas and laid their foundations bare, and why—verse 16: “He reached down from heaven and rescued me; / he drew me out of deep waters.”
He did all of this to rescue his child, the one who called on him. It seems like no distance is too far for him to go to provide, to meet the needs of those that he loves. He became man and died on a tree to meet our need of forgiveness and justification, did he not?
His provision may not always look how we’d like it to look, but we know that his “promises always prove true” as David says later in verse 30. I pray that we may have the “spirit of wisdom and revelation that we may know him [better]” (Ephesians 1:17 NIV). Then, when we really know him—when we know what he’s about—when we really know his character and his promises we can have a pass that passes all understanding that comes from Jesus. It passes all understanding because it is in the midst of suffering and hard times, when peace does not make any sense. This kind of peace comes from knowing Jesus, his promises, his character, and that in the end, he will meet our needs.
“As the sun went down that evening, people throughout the village brought sick family members to Jesus. No matter what their diseases were, the touch of his hand healed every one.” —Luke 4:40
Whenever I read the Bible, I ask Jesus to let me get to know him more and to understand his character more (check Luke 24:27 to understand that thought more fully). And I came across this passage in Luke 5 today and was blown away. What does this say about our Jesus?
It says that he met their needs. He met all of their needs. In the verse before he healed Simon’s mother. He met their needs entirely. He came to provide, or as Heidi Baker says, “Jesus died so there would be enough.”
Enough—not lacking, not wanting for anything, not starving. I believe there is food on the table, but we are starving because we don’t eat. The enemy loves to come to us and plant seeds of doubt, telling us lies about the character of Jesus—that Jesus doesn’t want to provide all of our needs, that Jesus doesn’t want to be our great Enough. The enemy plants seeds of doubt, telling us we just need to buck up and work harder, instead of just trusting Jesus to be enough for us.
Jesus even promises to give us whatever we need when we ask in his name. Health, wealth, and prosperity gospel pushers will tell you the normal lies of capitalistic America, that you need a nicer car or a bigger home. The truth is, however, you probably don’t. You probably do need freedom. You probably need to be set free from your fears and anxieties. There are probably relational needs that you have. You probably need healing emotionally and spiritually. You probably need healing from bitterness and unforgiveness. You probably need forgiveness. If you’re anything like me, I am sure you need all of those things.
And guess what, Jesus died so that there would be enough. He is not about to run out of grace. He is not about to run out of love. He is not about to run out of healing. He is our Enough.
It is tempting to just want to devote ourselves to doctrines and theologies than it is to get to know Jesus. We often don’t even realize that there’s a difference in what we’re doing, but Mark 10 (I’m slowly working my way through Mark), gives us a pretty great example.
The Pharisees, in their malicious attempts to trap Jesus and the freedom he offers in the web and religious rules and regulations, ask him this question:
“Should a man be allowed to divorce his wife?”
Jesus, not to be fooled, asks them what Moses said about it, as Moses wrote the books of Law, and the Pharisees, have a great answer. I mean, really, give them a break, here’s a pretty good answer. Well, it’s kind of weasely, but they still do a pretty good job. They said, “Well, he permitted it.”
The word choice there is great! Permitted is exactly the word I would use. God let people, which Jesus points out, but then Jesus looks at the big picture of Who God is. Yes, he permitted it because the people really wanted it, but he set a precedent in the beginning: men and women are united by God for life.
We can know verses and proof texts, doctrines and theologies, or we can know the doctrine, the truth, and his name is Jesus.
Immediately after this, Jesus get’s “angry” with the disciples in verse 14, for not letting the little children come to him. Now this stands out to me because how often is Jesus described as angry? I don’t have a number, but it seems to be many less times than he is described as being “moved with compassion.” So, if he’s angry about it, it must be pretty insightful into his character. Just look at the beginning of the chapter, in verse 1 he is “Once again” surrounded by crowds and his response was to “as usual” teach them.
The religious or cultural expectations may have called for the disciples to keep the children away from the great teacher—maybe they had a great doctrine about that, but the character of Jesus, seems to be completely contrary, and his reaction seems to prove it.
However, we are but men and women, fallible, and trying to know God who’s thoughts are entirely above ours and different from ours, so we will fail, and we will fail often, but I trust that Jesus wants to teach us (it seems to be his character). I trust that he loves us. I trust that he desires to have relationship with us. So I pray Ephesians 1:17 “asking God, the glorious Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, to give [us] spiritual wisdom and sight so that [we] may might grow in [our] knowledge of God.”
If you want to know Jesus, the real Jesus, just ask him. He died to open the door between God and man. He died to reconcile us. I trust he’ll finish this work until its completion.
When I read Mark, I remember that it is likely a collection of Peter’s stories or sermons or recollections of the years he spent with our Jesus. So, when I read the stories in the book, I think that it is different than Luke, which was a historical, researched account of Jesus, but, rather, I think of it as stories used to teach—to teach about the Man who is God, Jesus. So, when I read it, I read it like literature and bet that Peter and his transcriber, Mark, used some common storytelling elements.
For example, Mark 10 begins with Jesus doing something—like most stories in the Gospels. He is leaving Capernaum and goes down to Judea and Mark says “Once again crowds gathered around him, and as usual he was teaching them.”
Wowza! First, before we get into the literary elements of contrast or even (though this is a bit of a stretch) foils, let’s just think about this.
Once again — this is normal stuff, folks.
crowds gathered around him — people are drawn to Jesus. Everyone wants to be with him and this is a usual thing. Look back at the story of the man who has to be dropped in through a roof because they can’t squeeze through the crowd. Think about the stories of Jesus teaching from a boat while the crowd stands on the shore because there are so many of them wanting to hear him. Don’t forget the instances where people are begging Jesus to let them follow him and be his disciples and he’s turning them down. Everyone wants to be where he is. Zacchaeus, the sinful tax-collector, wanted to see Jesus so badly he climbed a tree. Other sinners invited him to their house for banquets and to eat, though there aren’t any accounts of Jesus having a house or inviting anyone there. They all want to be where he is. They all want to be with him, except, that is, for the Pharisees.
Verse two opens up with this telling phrase: “Some Pharisees came and tried to trap him….” All are drawn to Jesus. All are healed by Jesus. All those who come to him receive new life—abundant life, but the religious elite, those who have something to lose, can’t have that.
So we see the beginning of a foil relationship—which is, if you haven’t taken an English class in a while, the use of two characters who are vastly different to make certain qualities stand out in the other. Jesus is love and grace and all are drawn to him, and then we see the direct juxtaposition of the religious, which reminds me of something Wayne Jacobsen said about the Old Testament law, “God gave us a religion that didn’t work to get us ready to receive Jesus.”
The religious leaders want to trap, but Jesus wants to teach (look at verse 1). He wants to teach the people. He wants to make himself accessible to all.
Rules are much less scary than following Jesus is. They are far more safe than giving up our lives and our comfort and our friend groups to follow a radical guy who loves to break the rules of society. I mean, Jesus specifically tells us that the world will hate those who follow him. That does not sound very safe or comfortable to me.
Believe this, do that, don’t do that and you’ve got it all right. Welcome to Christendom. But if you get it wrong, you better watch out for that lightening that will strike you down. But this way of life doesn’t seem to be in line with what I read in the Bible. Do we read the Bible as a book of rules and laws or as a book that tells the story of Jesus and God’s interactions with his beloved people? It is much easier to debate theological dogmas and doctrines than it is to follow a man who is God named Jesus. We often talk about the truth, but we do not always see that the truth is Jesus. As Bill Johnson, pastor of Bethel Church in Redding, California says, “Jesus is perfect theology.”
While the way of following Jesus is much harder, it is the only way that brings life. He has come to bring abundant life—that’s his claim (John 10:10). On the other hand the life of obligation to rules and laws is one that only brings death. Carl Medearis, a follower of Jesus who specializes in Christian-Muslim relations asks the question of what good religion has ever done anyone, and the answer is quite obvious: none. We all know our failings, we all know our shame, and we are acutely aware of our sins, so it seems pretty obvious that more rules and regulations won’t help any.
Instead, the alternative is Jesus and his abundant life and life in the Spirit. This is no well researched exegesis, but I am convinced that there is only hope in Jesus, and I am convinced that Paul meant what he said when he penned Galatians 5, that “Christ has truly set us free.” He set us free from the pressures of getting it all right (with the fear of punishment that would surely follow). In the rest of chapter Paul moves from freedom in Christ to life by the Spirit, and there seems to be a clear connection there.
Following Jesus is just that, following him. Life by the Spirit frees you from rules and regulations, but, at the same time does not lead to lifestyles that are full of all those things we teach kids in Sunday school not to do (if you get what I’m saying). Rather, it is a life of asking, “Jesus, what do you have for me today? Jesus, how can I fall more in love with you as I read the Bible? Jesus, how can I do this or that….” A life in the Spirit is only possible when it is centered around Christ, around living loved by him and in love with him.
With Lent upon us, we could easily add another rule to our lives, such as I will not drink coffee or eat sweets or use social media, etc. But I want to encourage all of you this Lenten season to ask Jesus, “What can I give up or start doing so that I can fall more in love with you, be set free from religion and rules and learn to walk and live more by the Spirit.” If you ask me, that fits the theme of Easter than adding more religious rites and rules does.
(I must thank Karly Kenyon for her help with this blog—I can’t steal all the credit)
Jesus has been dealing with me so much about obedience lately. Well, if ever since this summer can be defined as lately, or actually, if ever since last summer can be defined as lately.
It all started when I was in Spain, doing what I believed God had put on my heart for years and years. I was living the life I (at the time) knew God had created me to do—I was serving him, or so I thought.
After a few weeks of being there I remember praying something along the lines of, “God, this is where I belong. This is what you made me for,” and as I prayed this I began to be terrified that I would return to the States, go back to school, graduate, get a job to pay of my loans, and end up being stuck in America. The thought was the scariest thing I had ever thought.
And guess what God did…
He let me be scared for a few days.
I pondered and pondered, worried and worried. Every time I prayed I prayed about this, and he didn’t say anything, until a few days later. And when he did speak it was in the form of a life-changing question:
“Jon, are you worshipping me or missions?“
I was guilty. I thought I was worshipping Jesus, but he pointed out that I was worshipping this idea of a “calling.” You see, it’s not about what we do, but our response to Jesus. Our obedience is not defined by the outcomes, but that we listen to Jesus and respond to his love.
(More on obedience to come….)
Sometimes… errr… actually a lot of times, I forget what I’ve already learned. Maybe I never really learned it, or maybe what I’m trying to learn just goes completely against the grain of who I am and it’ll take years for me to change and to subsume this new knowledge.
Yes, that’s exactly it.
You see, sometimes grace is incredibly difficult to grasp. I mean, I know it all in my head. I’ve preached, taught, written, and shared the Gospel message a thousand times—in two languages nonetheless! And even after all this, my heart resists it.
My heart, my whole being, rather, strives to be it’s own. I am naturally driven to run and fight for myself—to try and be righteous in and of myself. I mean, yeah, I trust Jesus because I have mentally assented to the fact that I cannot do this thing called life and salvation on my own, but my inner strivings for perfection do not coincide with this truth. It is possibly, maybe even probably because I want to obey Him so desperately because I love Him, but regardless, my old, fleshly, perfectionistic way is still taking over.
But the story doesn’t end there. No, instead it’s only the rising action in this plot diagram. It’s at exactly this point, when I am completely at a loss for how I can do this that Jesus shows up and blows my mind with the stunning truth of His love. That He can. He did. He paid for me, for my sin, my shame, my inability to do everything right all the time, my redemption, my righteousness.
It reminds me of one morning when I was in a prayer room in the hills overlooking Budapest, Hungary. I knew that Jesus had done all this for me (I had just spent nearly three months sharing the Gospel as an internship!) and I knew He wanted me to rest in Him and His grace—but I simply couldn’t. Just like I couldn’t (and still can’t) earn my own righteousness and salvation I can’t make myself receive His grace. To borrow some Calvinistic principles, I am so utterly helpless, Jesus has to reach out to me first in all things!
That morning, in that prayer room, on the other side of the world from where I now sit, my friend Arnold shared with me a powerful Psalm that I still pray:
Contend, O Lord, with those who contend with me;
fight against those who fight against me…
Say to my soul,
“I am your salvation.”
(Psalm 35:1,3a)
While I am sure our scholarship was bad and the context was all off, it is a radical thought to pray this prayer in context of our hearts and the lies we and the enemy feed our souls.
“Lord, contend with these lies, that I have to do it all. That I have to be perfect. I cannot. When you look at me you see Jesus and His righteousness. Speak your promises over me. “Say to my soul, ‘I am your salvation.’ “
So today, still, maybe even more than ever that is my prayer and will continue to be until my whole being is in line with His will, truth and promises over me. Believers, be encouraged. If you don’t know the rest of Jesus, let’s talk.
Ok, so I am addicted to Spotify.
I love that I can listen to any song any time for free. Pretty sweet deal, huh?
However, I don’t always have an internet connection, and much of the music I’m falling in love with I would love to listen to in my car, while I run, and at any other time I don’t have Spotify easily available to me. Basically, I love Spotify, but I’m way too dependent on it. I want to use it and enjoy it but not need it.
So, with that said, I’ve compiled a list of music that I’ve been loving that I would like to purchase over the next couple of months. Music is expensive and my list is long, so I anticipate this being a slow process.
1. Phil Wickham: Cannons
You thought I was going to say his new album, right? Ha! You’re wrong! Not today! While I do really, really, really like his new album, I am absolutely in love with Cannons, and it gets the number 1 spot of albums to purchase.
2. Charlie Hall: The Rising
Just last week a friend of mine introduced me to Charlie Hall and his song Constant, and I just can’t get enough. I’ve listened to this album and it’s one of the best worship CDs I’ve ever heard. It might eventually be fighting with Phil’s stuff. ;) Sorry, Phil, nothing will ever beat Heaven and Earth.
3. Leeland: Love is On the Move
Ha! Once again you thought I’d choose their new album! Not this time, bud! Powerful lyrics, great tunes, Spirit-inspired. This is probably my favorite album from them, though Sounds of Melodies will always have a special place in my heart.
4. Bethel Live: Be Lifted High
From the church that gives the world Jesus Culture is their worship band’s live album that will just downright rock your socks off. It is full of spontaneous worship and powerfully genuine songs of love for Jesus. It’ll mess you up!
5. Jesus Culture: Consumed
In this case, I already own their latest CD, but it wasn’t until after falling in love with it that I was introduced to this one. I’ve heard a lot of worship albums in my day and this one is just altogether solid—as an album and as a group of individual songs.
6. Phil Wickham: Response
Ok, here it is. His new album rocks my world. I mean, really, I just started looking at the song listing to give a few examples of just great songs but then I realized I was going to list almost the whole CD. Yeah, it’s that good.
7. Leeland: The Great Awakening
Here it is: their new album. It’s so good. It is classic Leeland in sound, but most importantly in spirit. It is good, good stuff. These guys have it figured out (well, as much as anyone I’d suppose), they love Jesus and it shows in every song.
8. Sigur Ros: Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust
Not everything I listen to is worship music (though a whole stinkin’ lot of it is!), and here’s an example of just downright good stuff from a secular band. The fact that they’re Icelandic makes up for a lot! Haha! I honestly believe these songs were written by the elves from Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings. Seriously.
9. Beirut: The Rip Tide
These guys are fairly new to me, but oh so good! I can’t get enough of their life-filled music. Some don’t like the lead singer’s voice, but I don’t like those people (jk, Hoss). This music is good for any mood and any occasion. Period.
10. Florence and the Machine: Lungs
Stunning. Simply stunning. Her voice, the music. It’s legit. Enough said.
11. Mumford & Sons: Sigh No More
I have to admit that there was a time in my life where I listened to this album at minimum once a day. It is feel good music, yet deep, powerful, meaningful and folk that I like. That is a rare deal—I don’t like much folk.
12. Nero: Welcome Reality
I haven’t even made it all the way through this album yet, as I just stumbled upon it tonight (though I’ve known the artist for a fairly long time), but from what I’ve heard it is worth it. It is great stuff. Sometimes it’s dubstep, other times it’s drum and bass, other times it’s just downright good.
Looking back at this list I don’t feel like the order is necessarily right at all, but it’s a start. It will change as I listen to more music, buy some and get burnt out on others. I hope you found some good music you didn’t know before.
PS. All of this music is available for free on Spotify. If you don’t know what that is, Google it. It will change your musical life. Period.
Wow. I haven’t posted anything in forever.
To be honest, blogging is super hard for me, but I know I need to do it more. Not because anyone else on the Internet cares about what I have to say, but for two reasons.
1. I fully subscribe to the constructivist idea that as people we are social creatures. This means that social networking is a natural outflowing of humanity. We were made to be together, to discuss, to converse, to bounce ideas, opinions and encouraging words off of each other. Therefore, I need to participate in this (especially if I claim to believe it).
2. (Though this is probably the more important reason of the two) I journal my prayers and only my prayers. This is very good, and it gets my thoughts and ideas out, but I want to process things more, and I would think that blogging is a good way—though I am hyperconscious of my internet presence, so I won’t even process anything on here that is of any real and deep meaning to me, so maybe I just shot this idea in the foot.
Well, yuck. That was one gross post. It had no flow, no structure, no art, no beauty, but it does have commitment. And that’s what I want to do. I want to commit to at least three original posts each week until 31 December. That means I’m not posting a link or a quote, but I have to say something original. I can post a quote or link and comment on it, but I must add to it.
You, dear reader, if you exist, please hold me accountable to this.
And find me on Twitter. (jonbair)
