The One Who Came Back

My devotional this morning led me to read Luke 17:11-19, where Jesus heals the 10 lepers and only one returns to express his gratitude. Of course, the point of the devotional was to be grateful for the things God has done in your life and I honestly went into it thinking, "I know: yada;yada"), but as only He can, God brought some other things to my attention this time.

Luke takes great pains to point out all ten lepers were healed as they walked away from Jesus toward the priests (v.14). Numerous sermons have been preached about the amount of faith these men had to turn away and begin walking before healing took place. I don't deny that's a great likelihood. But, I also wonder, as people in a position of great desperation, was He simply their last hope? I mean, what's the worst Jesus could say when they ask for mercy? "No"? They won't be any worse off than they are already. Instead, Jesus tells them to do something marginally ridiculous. He doesn't say hello, wish them God's grace, or even touch their decaying bodies. He tells them to go show themselves to the priests.

Now, they didn't say anything apparently (which is a credit to them, because I would have looked at Jesus like he was crazy, followed by a snide, "Seriously?"), but at least one of them had to have been thinking: "Um, Jesus, we know you're a nice guy and all, and seem to know a lot about God and stuff, but...we've already done that." The laws–see Leviticus 13 for full details–gave instruction to present oneself to the priest to be declared unclean. (I guess priests back then also went to med school?) Presumably, all ten of these men had done that. So, why, before they were healed, was Jesus sending them back to the priests? Jesus, of course, knew that Leviticus 14 instructs lepers who believe they've been healed to return to the priests for verification, sacrifices of offerings and reestablishment in the community. But you go to the priest for this confirmation after healing has occurred. Jesus is sending them before "doing" anything. He doesn't wave a magic wand or speak words of power over them. I wonder if they walked away, not in faithful assurance of healing, but rather in confusion, dejection, or even apathy, thinking: "It was a nice try. At least worth a shot." I wish Luke had recorded their real thoughts and the fervor with which they did or did not walk away from Christ.

He did, however, record an important fact: one of the lepers (the grateful one) was a Samaritan. Remember, these are the people Hebrews would walk miles to avoid. Funny how crisis draws enemies together. When they were all afflicted with leprosy, he was welcome in the unsightly family. But, now, following their healing, would he be welcome? Would the Jewish priests even look at him? Would the other nine still invite him to dine at their family tables, or would getting better make him an outcast once again?

Jesus says to him in verse 19, "Your faith has saved you." I think He's offering the former leper and Samaritan a place of belonging. He is saved. He is rescued. Not only from a terminal illness, but from isolation, loneliness and exclusion.

I suspicion that's why Luke alone tells this story and Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan. He knew what it was like to be an outsider. According to tradition, Luke was of Greek heritage, not a Hebrew (like Matthew, Mark and John). He wrote so non-Jews might know there was hope for them in this Messiah, this Christ. Jesus offered promise for a future for all humanity who found faith in Him. I also suspect that as a doctor (which tradition also tells us he was), Luke had an interest in diseases–especially when they were healed!

Though he'd cried out from a distance as a diseased outcast (v.12), the Samaritan surrendered his pride in front of a Jewish rabbi and humbly and gratefully came back, came near, falling at the feet of the One who cleansed his life (v16). He didn't deny the truth or gravity of his previous condition like we sometimes do. Imagine if he'd said, "Thanks Jesus, but you know, my leprosy wasn't as bad as Bob's." ????? How ludicrous! Yet that's what we sound like when we delude ourselves into believing our sin wasn't that bad. "I'm a good person, overall." No, we're people in need of cleansing, even if only a little. And we are insufficient to cleanse ourselves. The Samaritan had already known he needed mercy (v.13), but he willingly received it. And, he recognized the power of God as the source for the change (v.15).

Jesus is clearly delighted by this man. I imagine a broad grin spread across His face as he looked down at the man and invited him to stand (v.19). Though he'd been humbled by mercy, Jesus reminds the Samaritan that his dignity is restored. He is not a "thing" to feared and run from any longer. He is whole. He is well. The one who came back now belongs.

Dan's Den

I was reading in Daniel 6 yesterday about Daniel being thrown into the lions den, and I found some things I'd never before considered.

v.2 - Daniel isn't just a prince of one of the 120 provinces, he's a supervisor of those princes, along with two others.
v.3 - Daniel is about to be the next Joseph of the Israelites. Joseph was placed 2nd in command only to Pharaoh, even though he is a foreigner in Egypt. Daniel is about to become 2nd only to Darius the Mede, even though he, too, is a foreigner in Persia. With his presumably extensive knowledge of Hebrew history, did he grasp that fact? Was it overwhelming?
v.4 - Daniel sounds like a boy scout: "faithful and honest and always responsible!"
v.5 - If people were to look at me, would the only chance they'd have of finding grounds for accusation be in regard to my faith and practice of my faith?
v.7 - These guys are effective liars. "We have 'unanimously' agreed...." Obviously they didn't consult one of the king's top three guys, or Daniel would have been a dissenting vote!
- I love how they limit this law of worship to only 30 days. Were they trying to be sure they didn't offend their own gods too much? More than a month, and they might risk making their own gods a bit jealous!?
- And why lions? Was hanging out of vogue? Beheading too bloody? I think they didn't want to have to watch the murder of an innocent victim. Closing him up with deadly animals salved their conscience a bit, I suspect.
v.10 - Nothing changed for Daniel. His routine was not about to be disturbed by man-made unctions. And he didn't suddenly make his worship private for his own protection. I admit; I would have closed my windows, just as a precaution.
v.13 - The guy has been an official of the empire since the days of Nebuchadnezzar. He's a resident. He's about to be their boss, and yet the accusers refer to him, identify him as a slave: "one of the captives from Judah." And greatest adversaries always remember who we were. Satan himself stands before the God day and night (Rev. 12:10) reminding Him of our past, not the new creations we've become.
v.14 - I'm glad there's someone else who gets angry with himself for doing something stupid.
v.20 - The king uses an interesting expression, referring to Daniel as the servant of "the living God." He hasn't heard Daniel reply yet, but he knows of the power of Holy God, and speaks in faith and hope!
v.24 - I wonder how many leaders the king lost that day. He knew he'd have to kill the family members as well, because they might seek revenge on him or Daniel in years to come.
v.25-27 - This hymn of praise is beautiful; I hope it came not only as a proclamation to the people, but as an expression of the king's heart of worship and submission to Almighty God. I guess we'll find out one day.

Swimming with Turtles and Lightning Bugs

Well, not actually swimming with the lightning bugs, just the turtles.

Growing up as a little girl in the woods of southwest Louisiana, I sat for hours on summer nights watching out the window to see the lightning bugs flicker through the night sky. (I sat inside, because only liars or the overly nostalgic/forgetful say they sat outside - you'd be eaten alive and carried away by mosquitoes if you really sat outside for hours.) I sat mesmerized and amazed by their glow. Even as a child, those tiny creatures were one of the intricacies of creation that convinced me of an Intelligent Designer (who has a sense of humor and delight). Who else would think to make a bug that lights up? Surely God must giggle like I do and smile as each bug competes with the stars in the vast expanse of his creation! And on the scientific side of things, the fact that different species of fireflies have different flash patterns to attract their own kind is only another point of evidence for His master plan.

So moving out here to the lake has been a reminder of all those wonderful hours gazing at the glow of the lightning bugs. We have them in proliferation out here, and I'm delighted. So if you hear a giggle in the darkness - it's me.

Now, as for the turtles, I'm not as big a fan. Oh, they're cute...over there. Not right beside me as a I paddle through the water. We had turtles in south Louisiana, too, but I opted not to swim with them or the crawfish in the front ditch. (Although once I remember we had a big flood - @ 12 inches of rain - and as my sister and I waded through the front yard, an eel swam by. We screamed. And ran. Of course, we were sure it was a deadly serpent, but when my dad saw it, we got a science lesson...indoors, of course.) Anyway, one turtle just seemed to follow me today. I was only in the water for about 40 minutes, but he kept popping his head up right ahead of me. I don't know if my sunscreen was his favorite scent or what, but I'll be wearing something different tomorrow. As a matter of note - turtles are in the reptile family, and to this new-to-the-lake live-r, a turtle's head looks too much like a snake's. All that to say, if you hear a scream in the blazing light of day, it's probably me.

Coming to My Senses

My devotional reading this morning was Jesus' parable of the Prodigal Son. A familiar story, I know. Yet the author of the devotional thought raised a theory I'd never heard, and I'm not sure I agree with. He said:

There were three kinds of servants in those days: day workers who were paid on a day-to-day basis; hired servants who worked long hours on the estate but lived in town with their independence intact; or bond servants who lived on the estate and gave all of themselves to serving the family.

When the prodigal son hit rock bottom, it's interesting that his planned apology involved asking if he could be like a hired servant [see Luke 15:17,19]. Why not a grateful bond servant? Perhaps he was trying to negotiate a deal--a way to get a paycheck and keep his independence as well.

While I can appreciate the author's point, and think it's certainly plausible, I tend to think there's another possibility. Perhaps because the younger son had finally come "to his senses" [v.17], he was so ashamed of his behavior and choices he didn't want to have to live (as a bond servant), moment-by-moment with the family. Perhaps he feared facing repercussions from family members: whispers behind his back as he left after serving at the dinner table, exasperation in their voices as they corrected his workmanship in the shed, mocking tones if he expressed an alternate point of view or suggestion about something in the field. (And apparently legitimately so, based upon the later responses of the older brother in v.28ff.) Maybe it wasn't independence he was seeking as much as it was shame he was escaping. To return home took amazing humility, coupled with determination to make life better. If the son asked to be the first kind of servant, a day-to-day worker, I'd buy the devotional author's argument about a search for independence. But his desire to have a steady job on the property (not just for harvest season or something like that) seems to indicate a new maturity. In that maturity, he knew he needed a place and opportunity to escape the ever-critical eyes. Not only will pride lead us to make certain choices; shame will as well.

But Jesus' continuation of the Father's welcoming arms assures the listener there is no reason to be afraid. As John later writes, "As we live in God, our love grows more perfect...Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced his perfect love" (1 John 4:17-18). The younger son didn't need to allow shame to control his future. He was accepted with perfect love, with no fear of punishment. I suspicion if Jesus had continued the story, he might have explained there were consequences to the poor choices the son had made previously. The results of his decisions were not erased, but his hope and future were no longer determined by them. No longer dead, but alive; no longer lost, but found [v.32].

And we've been invited to experience the same, unconditional, ever-giving and forgiving kind of perfect love. Yet, too often, I look for ways to escape, believing God looks at me with critical eyes, ever-reminded of my failures. Oh, not that he'd be so unkind and ungentlemanly as to bring them up, but alert and aware, expecting me to fail again, waiting (in disdain and mere tolerance) for it to happen. If you struggle with this as I do, (let's come "to our senses" and) read aloud the following words from Psalm 103. Let them wash over your mind, heart, body and soul. In fact, I wonder if these words weren't in the back of Jesus' mind as he told his prodigal son parable nearly 2000 years ago:

Let all that I am praise the Lord;
with my whole heart, I will praise his holy name.
Let all that I am praise the Lord;
may I never forget the good things he does for me.
He forgives all my sins
and heals all my diseases.
He redeems me from death
and crowns me with love and tender mercies.
He fills my life with good things.
My youth is renewed like the eagle’s!

The Lord is compassionate and merciful,
slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love.
He will not constantly accuse us,
nor remain angry forever.

He does not punish us for all our sins;
he does not deal harshly with us, as we deserve.
For his unfailing love toward those who fear him
is as great as the height of the heavens above the earth.
He has removed our sins as far from us
as the east is from the west.
The Lord is like a father to his children,
tender and compassionate to those who fear him.
For he knows how weak we are;
he remembers we are only dust.

On a side note, Jesus never describes the younger son as a "young" man. He merely describes him as being younger than the older brother. Which indicates to me that at any age people may lose their "senses"!

Hospitality

Yesterday I had the privilege of teaching in a Bible study class at church filled with people who are "more experienced" than myself. (It's the class my parents visit when they're in town.) The teachers graciously invited me to teach one of the lessons I'd written for BaptistWay published in this summer's curriculum. It was a lively discussion and very enjoyable for me. (I hope a majority of them felt the same!) The lesson was about Hospitality as a biblical mandate; and I'm happy to report the class showed me a great deal of it!

As I began the lesson, I showed Jerry two miniature pound cakes. One looked light and delicious; the other dark and unappetizing; both sprinkled with powdered sugar. I then asked him which one he'd like. Naturally, he pointed to the first. But my point was this: as the giver, I could choose to give him whichever I wanted, regardless of his preference. Hospitality, in the biblical sense, chooses to give the best, the preferred, to the other person, meeting his/her needs. We mentioned various examples of hospitality throughout Scripture: God's provision of everything they needed for Adam and Eve; God's offer to the Israelites of a land which flowed with milk and honey; God's law that provided for Ruth to glean in Boaz's field; Jesus' teachings and example of humble service; even God's provision for our eternity in heaven - everything we'll ever need in grand style! As I consider it now, the Gospel story itself and the act of sharing it with others are probably the two greatest hospitable demonstrations of all!

Writing that lesson, and now teaching it, have further challenged my perceptions of my own practices of hospitality. I've been "weighed in the balance and found wanting," to quote Daniel. I too often find excuses of finances, time or well-being to exert the energy and effort it takes to show hospitality - and I don't just mean throwing a party. Hospitality, first and foremost, is a state of mind - an attitude of welcome that communicates to those around you that they are valuable and desired. That's what God demonstrates through Jesus' sacrifice-his desire for us. It then manifests itself through action - striving to meet the greatest need of the person in your path: emotionally, physically or spiritually. When we express the message of saving hope to others, we express our desire for them to be with us for eternity! While I have moments of "success," in this area of hospitality, I still have so far to go.

The discussion branched off a couple of times into an examination of political law and practice, particularly regarding immigration issues, which, to be honest, I was totally unprepared for. In fact, in my naivete and general avoidance of politics, I didn't even see it coming. What I wish I'd said (you know, in those brilliant conversations you have on the way home in the car), to divert that road mine, was while political immigration issues are certainly of importance, our focus for the day was to be an examination of self - how I am practicing hospitality in daily life. Oh, well. Maybe someone, somewhere in the room grasped that concept!

The funniest moment of all came after the majority left the room. One sweet lady walked up to where I was standing with the mini-pound cakes and marveled at why Jerry had picked the one he did. After all, she'd "pick chocolate every time!" I laughed, and holding it up for her see, said, "It's not chocolate. It's burned." I think there may be a future devotional [or illustration] in that somewhere.