Our Spiritual Vaccination

Background Passage: Mark 12:28-36, Proverbs 6:16-19, Romans 6:23, Philippians 4:8

One year ago this week, my wife and I traveled to Washington D.C., with our son’s family. We left amid a growing fear of global pandemic none of us really understood. By the time we finished our five days walking the nation’s capital, the World Health Organization label Covid-19 as a “global pandemic.” We arrived home to a vastly different world.

Over the last two weeks my wife and I have both received the first of our two Covid-19 vaccinations and are eagerly awaiting the second. By the end of the month we will be fully immunized against the coronavirus. I don’t know that we expected to feel such a sense of relief after receiving only one dose. I’m hoping the second shot gives us an even greater sense of peace.

I don’t pretend to know exactly how the vaccine works. I’m grateful for the scientists and doctors who do. I do know that the vaccine stimulates the production of white blood cells that attack the virus at the point of infection and block the virus from infecting other cells in my system.

The vaccine helps my body produce T-lymphocytes (memory cells) that hang around in my body in case the same virus tries to return. If that’s not exactly how it works, it is explanation enough for my limited understanding of biology and the human body. I just trust that it works.

I’m not naive. I know every pharmaceutical company rushes to produce a vaccine knowing it will make them a lot of money. Free enterprise. I want to believe though that the scientists and doctors who do the research and develop the countermeasures to defeat a new virus do so because they hate to see the suffering it causes.

Just as those doctors hate a virus that causes physical suffering and death, God hates the sin that causes spiritual suffering and death. Work with me while I try to build something here.

The late Rev. Billy Graham once wrote that God’s love for man prompts him to hate sin with a vengeance. He wrote, “I tell you that God hates sin just as a father hates a rattlesnake that threatens the safety and life of his child…God loathes with a holy abhorrence anything that would hinder our being reconciled to him, wrote Graham.”

So what specifically does God hate? The writer of Proverbs laid out a list of things God detests.

“These six things the Lord hates, yes, seven that are detestable to him: A haughty eye, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies and a person who stirs up conflict in the community.” (Proverbs 6:16-19)

Consider all these things a spiritual virus that infects the human soul with devastating and eternal results. Then, consider how rampant are each of these sins in our culture and society today. Arrogance. Deceitfulness. Murder. Hatred. Wickedness. Evil. Discord. The Covid-7 of the spirit.

These viruses are at the heart of our cultural dissonance and discontent, making this world more sin sick with each passing day. How eye-opening and frightening would it be to see these sinful attitudes charted on the nightly news. Billions infected. Millions hospitalized. Far too many dying in the sin of their choosing.

It paints a pretty dismal picture.

The good news for the world is that God long ago developed a spiritual vaccine to ward off the spiritually deadly virus of sin. The surest vaccine against the ravages of sin is putting one’s faith and trust in Jesus Christ as Lord.

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus Christ, our Lord.(Romans 6:23)

Here’s how that vaccine works. It changes and protects the heart. Like the T-lymphocytes, God’s spirit stays with us and in us convicting and convincing us of the sin we’re allowing to creep into our hearts.

Paul says the vaccine changes our attitudes and thoughts by attacking those sins that invade our hearts with their positive counterparts. He told the Philippian church:

“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” (Philippians 4:8)

As much as he detests those notorious sins, don’t you know God loves these things all the more?

For this spiritual vaccine to work best we must take two shots that enable us to change our attitudes and our hearts. It’s a lesson Jesus taught an inquisitive Pharisee. You’ll find the story in Mark 12:28-34.

The teacher of the law came to Jesus, standing in the background as the Sadducees tried their best to trap Jesus with specious arguments and innuendo. Jesus saw right through them. Their questions were insincere, yet Jesus tried to enlighten them to the truth of his teaching. They just didn’t get it. The Pharisee, however, was beginning to see more clearly.

At a break in the conversation, the Pharisee in the background came forward, impressed with Jesus’ words. He had a question of his own. A good question. No intention to trap Jesus. Just a honest effort to pick his brain. To understand.

“Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”

Jesus leaned back against the wall and looked intently into the man’s eyes, gaining a measure of his character and intent. Seeing the honesty in his heart, Jesus answered.

“The most important one is this. ‘Hear, O Israel. The Lord our God; The Lord is one. Love the Lord our God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’”

Bam! There it is! Shot 1 of our spiritual vaccination. To avoid those things that God hates, we must inoculate ourselves against them by focusing our love on the God who first loved us. Totally. Completely. With all that we are. In every aspect of life. Without hesitation. Without reservation. Heart. Soul. Mind. Strength.

For we cannot succumb to arrogance if we are loving God with our everything. We cannot easily condone wickedness nor practice it in our own lives, if God is Lord…the boss of our lives. We cannot manipulate the truth, pass along lies as truth; we cannot sow discord among God’s people, if we focus our heart, mind, strength and soul on the will of God in our lives.

Jesus knew that loving God was the first and most critical step. Yet, he knew it was just the beginning. To be fully vaccinated in spirit, however, we can’t stop there. Jesus didn’t. With barely a pause to see if his first statement hit home, Jesus spoke again to the Pharisee.

“The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no greater commandment than these.”

Shot 2. Just like the medical vaccine, this one has a few side effects. Some of us might feel a l little queasy afterward. It might initially make us uncomfortable.

When we open our hearts to Christ, we find it easy to love God with all we are until we understand that he requires us to love those who disagree with us. Those who look different than us. Those who don’t typically walk in our circle. Yet, his love in us gives us the capacity to open our eyes, to expand our circle to include everyone with whom we come in contact.

Jesus permanently linked together loving God and loving our neighbor, whomever that might be, as the greatest of all his teachings. He knew if we do those things well, sin, our spiritual coronavirus, will never gain a firm foothold on our lives.

That’s the good news of the Bible. As deeply as God hates the sin, he loves the sinner. He sent his son to die so that we might live. The ultimate spiritual vaccine, taken in two inseparable doses, exemplified in our love for God and our love for those around us.

I’m glad I’ve been vaccinated. How about you?

A Cautionary Fish Tale

Background Passages: Matthew 17:24-27; I Cor. 9:19-22; and Hebrews 4:15

For two days
they fished the Sea of Galilee.
The catch?
A little light in the net.
Good.
Not great.

Josiah hauled the barrel of fish to market.
Eli stayed in the middle of the lake,
casting the nets.

Selling the tilapia and carp in Capernaum
earned the two partners
a four-drachma coin.
Two day’s wages split
two ways.

That afternoon,
Josiah rowed his boat
alongside his brother’s skiff.

“How much?”
asked Eli.

“Barely enough,”
was the disappointed answer.

Josiah pulled the coin from the small bag
hidden in the pocket of his robe.
Handed it to his brother.
They fumbled the exchange and the
coin slipped from their fingers
into the water.

They watched helplessly as the sun glinted off
the silver coin as it twirled and tumbled
deeper into the sea and
out of sight.

Two days’ earnings lost.

The flash of light on silver caught the eye of a
carp swimming beneath the boat.
On instinct the fish struck and swallowed the object,
Cold and hard.
Lodged in the gullet.

And, the fish swam away.

Except for the fishermen who spent the rest of the day kicking themselves for their carelessness, this imagined episode was an insignificant event of life on the Sea of Galilee. Yet, God used this story to explain a critical truth about his son.

Jesus and his disciples arrived in Capernaum at a time when the “temple tax” was due. Once a voluntary gift to support God’s work at the temple in Jerusalem, the Romans twisted it into a mandatory tax to build its own pagan temples. Once a year, collectors set up a table on the outskirts of every Jewish town requiring everyone to pay the equivalent of a day’s wage to the Roman government. An unpopular tax, as you can imagine.

Jesus and his disciples had gained some notoriety among the people of Capernaum. This seaside village was his Galilean base of operation. Peter lived there. It is not unreasonable to assume the tax collector knew Peter well. As the disciple passed that day, the man, perhaps a natural critic and skeptic of Jesus and his work, challenged Peter.

“Does your teacher pay the temple tax?”

Without a glance at the tax man, Peter’s answer was terse and to the point. “Yes.”

Peter walked the streets toward his mother-in-law’s home where Jesus was staying, stewing over Roman arrogance and the abuse of the temple tax. The idea of paying a tax to build a pagan temple offended him. A few minutes later, Peter angrily pushed open the door, banging it against the wall.

Startled, Jesus looked up from the table where he sat eating a fig. With the insight of God’s spirit, Jesus took one look at the disciple’s face and answered the question before it was asked.

“What do you think, Simon? From whom do the kings of the earth collect duty and taxes? From their own children or from others?

Understanding the privileges of power, Peter looked at his feet and mumbled, “from others.”

“Then the children are exempt. But, so that we may not cause offense, go to the lake, throw out your line. Take the fish you catch. Open its mouth, you will find a four-drachma coin. Take it and give it to them for my tax and yours.”

What an odd and obscure passage of scripture! It’s no surprise, I guess, that Matthew is the only gospel writer to tell this unusual story. As a former tax collector, it was, after all, in his wheelhouse.

Though I read the passage in the past, I never gave it much thought. When I skimmed it this week, I stopped. The words of the Bible were not written by chance. So, why put these three verses in scripture for us to read?

Barclay tells us in his commentary that the story is a mini-parable. A story. He says Jesus would never use his power for something so mundane as to pay his obligations. Remember the temptations of Christ in the wilderness? Barclay says its Jesus’ way of telling Peter that his followers must pay our lawful debts, even when they find them distasteful. Jesus used this dramatic story to tell Peter, go fish. Earn what we need to earn to pay this tax.

I can buy the idea of a parable, but I’m not sure this commentary’s hammer is hitting its nail squarely.

The parable teaches us about Jesus. Draws our attention to him. Matthew’s gospel addressed the Jewish people who longed for the promised Messiah. It also speaks to all of us in need of the redemption offered by God through Christ. The story is about Jesus. King of the Jews. The atonement for sin. The ransom for the soul to which all the Old Testament and Jewish law pointed. As such, it is an important word.

However, when put in its broader context, maybe there is more we can learn. According to Matthew just a few verses earlier, Peter was among a trio of disciples to recently witness the transfiguration of Jesus on the mountaintop. They heard the affirmation of God declaring his love for his son and his pleasure at his work. When the experience was over, the disciples didn’t want to leave the mountaintop. They wanted to remain in awe-inspired, blissful worship. Jesus and his disciples, though, had more work to do so down in the valley.

With that remarkable experience still fresh on Peter’s mind, the tax collector confronted him in Capernaum. At that moment, I can see Peter bristling at the idea of paying a Roman tax when his master had just been affirmed by God in the presence of Moses and Elijah. There’s a sort of “Don’t you know who he is? or “Don’t you know who I am?” kind of arrogant vibe to the encounter. “This is God’s son you’re hassling, buddy! And I’m his right hand man! Back off!”

Peter really wanted to tell Jesus about the irritating encounter. Before he could get a word out, Jesus,with his keen insight into human nature, opened the conversation. It’s interesting that Jesus used Peter’s old name in this passage. He called him “Simon.” Jesus reverted to Peter’s birth name on those occasions when Peter was not acting like “the rock” he needed him to be. I suspect when Jesus addressed the disciple as Simon it was the same as my Mom calling me, “Kirk Allan.” A “what have I done this time?” moment.

Peter probably answered Jesus’ question tentatively, with uncertainty in his voice, “the others…”, but he answered correctly. The implication from Jesus clear. “On one level, Peter, you’re not wrong. You and I both know I’m the son of God. You heard as much on the mountain. As the son of God I am under no obligation of any kind to man’s law and rule. But, that’s not the point, is it?”

Then, Jesus uttered a phrase that changes Peter’s perspective from a position of holy supremacy to a posture of humble service.

“So that we may not cause offense…”

Those who know tell me that the Greek word used for “offense” in this passage means “to cause someone to stumble.” It suggests that even though Jesus, by nature of who he is, had no obligation to pay this tax, he would pay it so his refusal would not be an obstacle placed before the Jewish people. He didn’t want to create an issue that would distract from the message he preached.

Paul reflected a similar attitude with the Corinthian church.

“For, though I am free from all men, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more…I have become all things to all men that I might by all means save some. (I Cor. 9:19-22)

Jesus didn’t come to make a political or cultural point. He came to redeem a world that had lost its way. Throwing up obstacles, creating distractions, would not get it done.

Jesus constantly made conscious decisions throughout his ministry to set aside his position as God’s son consistent with his pattern of grace and sensitivity to the struggles of others. The writer of Hebrews reminds us…

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are…yet he did not sin.” (Hebrews 4:15)

As an act of love, Jesus…

set aside his place as the son of God…
never compromised his message or ministry…
complied with the mundane…
replaced condemnation with forgiveness…

all in an effort to avoid setting obstacles in front of those whom he wanted to place their faith in him.

I wonder if that’s not the best lesson found in this fish tale? As children of God, we see many things in this world that we know are not right. Actions counter to God’s law and his will. It has become so easy to condemn without grace. To set barriers between those who offend our political and cultural convictions and the salvation offered by Jesus’ death and resurrection.

The story causes me to think. What barriers have I erected? What have I said or done in my own arrogance that would stand in the way of my witness to others about Christ?

“So that we might not cause offense…”

It’s a fish tale worth considering.

You Matter to God; You Matter to Me

Background Passages: Genesis 1:26-27; Galatians 3:8; Mark 12:26-27

The Broadway musical Waitress tells a story about a young woman whose life turns out vastly different than she imagined it would. When life leaves her struggling as a waitress in a small diner, eking out a day to day existence with little to show for her effort, she feels invisible and unworthy of love and respect. She encounters a man who takes notice of her, sees her for who she really is. He spends time trying to convince her that she, and her life, are important.

Sara Bareilles, a talented singer and songwriter, penned the lyrics to You Matter to Me. The song speaks poignantly to the need in all of us to matter to someone. She wrote,

“I could find the whole meaning of life in those sad eyes.
They’ve seen things that you never quite say, but I hear.
Come out of hiding I’m right here beside you.
And I’ll stay there as long as you let me.

“Because you matter to me.
Simple and plain, and not much to ask from somebody.
You matter to me.
I promise you do, you, you matter, too.
I promise you do, you see?
You matter to me.”

In explaining the lyrics to the song, Bareilles said, “It was something so simple that I think is at the heart of what we really look for when we want someone who really sees us. It’s just a feeling that what you do and who you are matters to someone.”

I’ve listened a great deal to that song in the past two weeks. Within the lyrics lies an answer, I think, to the many issues that tend to divide us today, including “Black Lives Matter.” “Police Lives Matter.” These are such sensitive issues and I’ll probably fumble through it. Please bear with me as I try to express my thoughts.

First, it matters to me that an African American man or woman is shot and killed by a police officer, whether that act was willful and deliberate, a terrible misunderstanding or an absolute accident. Black lives matter. Secondly, it matters that an individual, acting in unmitigated anger, willfully and deliberately targets and kills any police officer. Police lives matter.

The personal and national tragedies occurring across our country today sadden me. The division among us which these tragedies create saddens me. That the tragedies get exploited by individuals, media and groups with political agendas, saddens me. The social wedge it drives between us creates a deep, personal and public fracture that will take time and selfless understanding to heal.

I believe fundamentally that your life, regardless of who you are or what you do, matters. First and foremost, you matter to God. Genesis declares that people…all of us…are made in the “image of God.”

“So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.” Gen. 1:26-27.

Every human being, regardless of race, ethnicity, background or profession, in some way mirrors God…something of God can be seen and felt in each of us. As a result of our created connection to God, all people are important to God. All people matter to God.

There ought to be a God-inspired corollary to that truth, especially to those who call ourselves Christian. Because God matters to me–as His child, His creation–you also matter to me. Neither race, nor ethnicity, nor social status, nor profession, ought to change that belief.

Paul tells us in Galatians 3:8, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

The apostle need not spell out every category of human being for us to understand that in the eyes of our Father in heaven we stand the same. In every way that matters to Him and to us, we stand the same.

I was taught never to judge another unless I had walked in their shoes. My actions and the actions of others, are typically predicated on our personal experiences. How I respond to situations depends on what I have experienced, seen, heard and perceived…circumstances that impact my life. I cannot, therefore, fully understand the real and perceived discrimination African Americans feel. I have never walked in their shoes.

Nor can I fully understand the anxiety and trepidation a police officer must feel every time he or she answers a radio call for a domestic disturbance, a break-in, traffic stop or at any social protest. I have never walked in their shoes.

The plain and simple truth is we don’t need to walk in another’s shoes to sense their anguish over life circumstances. We just need to act on our faith principles and react in the love of Christ to each and every person we encounter.

Consider this. Jesus had been involved in one of those intense debates with the Jewish leadership who questioned so many of his teachings. Near the end, one of the teachers of the law came to Jesus and asked, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?” Our Savior responded with a clear message about our relationship to God and to one another.

“The most important one is this: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.” Mark 12: 28-31

We have an abundance of issues that would divide us today…gay and transgender rights, immigration, terrorism, “Black Lives Matter,” “Police Lives Matter.” “All Lives Matter.” All I know is that my political and social perspectives…all aspects of my life…must match my faith perspective.

Those groups and individuals at the center of every one of these issues matter to God. Therefore, they and their feelings must matter to me. I matter to God. Therefore, I and my feelings, must matter to you. Until we start listening with intent to love as God loves, we will never find the common ground we need. We will never truly matter to each other.

You matter to God. You matter to me. As Bareilles says, “It’s not much to ask from somebody.”