Kindness for the controller

𝙅𝙤𝙝𝙣 11:21 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙖 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙅𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙨, “𝙇𝙤𝙧𝙙, 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙚𝙙.”

The would/could/should haves – part of our entitled commentary to God about our take on life after events happen. While it’s perfectly understandable and good to review things that went wrong in order to prevent them from going (as) wrong next time, it’s presumption to read God the riot act. We simply don’t have the equipment or certainly the authority to instruct the Lord of our lives as to how things SHOULD have gone.

For Martha, this was completely in character. Though she followed this statement with “But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you.” (v 22), that was a self-perceived consolation to the sovereign will of Martha. This was the person who bossed her family around – taking umbrage that her sister Mary would not help her do her frantic, frenetic (and never ending) preparation, cleaning and (re)ordering of things for the guests. No, said Jesus, you can be like that, but Mary will certainly be allowed to sit and listen regardless.

It’s miraculous Jesus did up upbraid Martha – cut her down to size and knock her off her high horse. But he did not. As always, Jesus knew what was in a person, and Martha was hurting inside. We have no history regarding her past, but the need for control and intolerance of things not going according to plan is well understood even in our own lives. Martha had just lost her brother. Among the spectrum of things going wrong, that would be a biggie. Her pain in watching a loved one get sick and die is a well-known human experience. One of the earliest expressions of grief is anger – which blames. There’s little question that Martha had seen loss, along with personal criticism and shame. She felt things deeply.

It would seem a suitable emotional reaction to put Martha in her place, to let her know how selfish her manipulative control really was. But Jesus didn’t do that and it’s remarkable. Instead, Jesus grieved with her and then showed real sovereignty – that of Almighty God – and raised her brother Lazarus from the dead. That’s how God moves in the lives of the bossy, controlling, bullying people – shows them goodness in the dearest way.

It is so easy to sting back the people who dig and weasel and push and scratch their way into ordering your life according to THEIR program. Jesus shows what they need. Hardly acquiescence to their insistent wranglings but kindness in spite of them and in response to them. As usual, Jesus turns the world upside down and heals it. He’s glorious.

Cry of the beggar

Mark 10:48-49 And many rebuked him, telling him to be silent. But he cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” And Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” And they called the blind man, saying to him, “Take heart. Get up; he is calling you.”

Bartimaeus was a blind beggar.  His trade was dictated by his physical state; there was no program to help the poor and afflicted in Roman-occupied first century Israel.  As part of the beggar-underclass of people, he was very used to raising his voice for alms and any mercy that he could get to come his way.

There’s also little doubt that Bart knew about Jesus – one who didn’t just give alms but who healed blindness itself.  If that could happen, his entire life would change radically.  He could be a productive person.  It’s hard to consider all the possibilities and plans he had imagined for his entire life that could transpire if he could only see.

But when he raised his voice, calling on the “Son of David” – a well-known name for Messiah, that those around him thought he was only begging as usual.  They told him to be silent, thinking perhaps that common beggars had no business involving Jesus.  Begging was not his intent, though, and their chiding and squelching his voice had the net effect of keeping him blind and poor.  Their pushing him out of the way was oppressive and cruel.

Jesus stopped and would ask him what he wanted.  Bart could’ve asked for great riches, to have his calluses healed or anything else.  He asked to see.  And see he did.

Do I

1. Assert myself when I have a real need only Jesus can meet?  Bartimaeus gave voice to the yearning of his heart and would not be silenced.  Do I do that, or slink back into a beggarly life of want?  Can the voices of others, perhaps bothered by my very presence, shout me down and scoff me underfoot?  Hear the (perhaps annoying) cry of the poor man, O my soul!  Do not be silenced!
2. Find my myself among the annoyed, insisting the loud beggar cease his/her rantings?  For sure there is dysfunctional entitlement.  But there is also a need to be heard and listened to.  Do I listen?  Do I pause to hear the stories of the poor one?  Or do I instead call his/her voice a distracting bother, with no substance behind the noise that fills my ears?  O my soul, learn to listen, for the stories you’ll hear will inform all mercy and wisdom.

So be it.

Blood in the city of merchants

Revelation 18:24 And in her was found the blood of prophets and of saints, and of all who have been slain on earth.

The judgment of the city of Babylon is spelled out in no uncertain terms in Revelation 18.  While interpreters over the centuries have puzzled in depth about the identity and location of the city, it is both safer and more effective exegesis to stand Babylon up as the commercial world system.  The narrative calls her (and indeed identifies her visually) as a woman, though the association with femininity plays more to her particular variety of sin than anything else.  She was (and is) a prostitute, selling “intimacy” and profiting from it.  Her customers are merchant traders, for whom moral compromise never bore cause for reservation or restraint in personal gain.  Their book of business ethics was (and is) thin indeed.

In confused responses, these merchants both bewail and acknowledge the reasons for Babylon’s destruction.  They openly cite the way the city opposed those crying for its repentance and pointing out its iniquities.  So they “get it” regarding judgment though they themselves never turned from their sins.

The bottom line is the verse above.  Babylon was (and is) a murderous place.  It destroyed the lives of those sent to help.  It first mocked the righteousness proclaimed by the prophets and saints, then killed them.  “In her was found the blood” is an allusion to the scriptural principle of spilled blood actually telling a story of violence, injustice and human antipathy.  Babylon preferred murderous hatred to any thought of restraint or even reflection upon its transgressions.  Indeed, “all who have been slain on earth” shows the breadth of the prophecy and identifies Babylon as larger than a single physical earthly city.

Being caught up short in sin produces two basic responses – rebellion and repentance.  The subtle rebellion in postponing, fence-sitting or explaining away guilt and the destruction being caused by their sin is rebellion nonetheless, even as I practice it.  It is true that humans can enact and perform any side of the equation – prophets to penitent recipients – in their own strength and ceremony.  Such is religious penance and all manner of payoff for sin.  This causes jading in those who see the hypocrisy and insincere motion.  It is also true – and let this be my (and our) pursuit – that there is true, life-changing conviction and deep repentance that is an integral part of the salvation of both individuals, communities, cities and nations.

Repentance is not accompanied by pleasant sentiments, but it is a repeated, progressive cleansing of everything that evil needs to function.  And when it is lacking, it’s only a matter of time before blood flows.  But when it is done truly and with a heart towards God, there is new life, love and joy to follow.

Jesus died that we might have that life starting now and going into eternity.

The need to slow down

Luke 10:40 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

Martha was a great hostess. If you were to have a party and wanted everything to be set up, clean, beautiful and functional, she was the person to make it so. Now there are basically two motivations for activity like that – 1) fear of what others think and might say and 2) an attitude of loving service. I think we see enough of Martha’s words and actions to conclude her motivation was fear. And she wanted others to enter into that fear – specifically Mary her sister. She wanted Jesus to exert His authority to force Mary to help her in her frenetic work. Her words even accused Jesus of not having correct motives – “don’t you care?” – as if her heart was in a better place than the Lord of glory.

It’s important to see that Jesus didn’t condemn Martha. He didn’t slam her with biting criticism that laid bare her vain heart. He instead gently pointed out that Mary was acting on better motivation than Martha. Mary wanted to hear from Jesus and that was more important than a house out of order or unprepared dip or finger food. It’s not that preparations didn’t have to be made and visitors didn’t have to be served – they did. It was just the attitude and rush that Martha had and wanted everyone else to have that needed confrontation. The food prep could wait – why not have the guests even help?

Do I demand that others join me in my anxious wranglings? Do I ask God to assign worry warts to surround me and help me? Do I even fret the small stuff, forgetting that I only need to chill and then I will find Jesus giving me all I need?

The message is simple yet hard to receive and practice – slow down! I mean I am paid to go fast, and faster still. I am compensated to be impatient – I’m not inventing that, just doing what my occupation calls for. Yet Jesus interrupts all of that, telling me this other relaxed one has chosen the better portion. Why am I working so hard? Why so fearfully? Let me hear the rhythms of God this day and pace myself, taking moments off to pray and breathe in grace. I need this real time – in the middle of things. And I need this at the beginning – as I prepare for the day. Bless the Lord O my soul.