A tiny child takes something that belongs to another, because they want that thing, and they want it now. A parent could hardly decipher any more reason than that. But the parent immediately works to address this injustice, with the clear goal of teaching the child that this indulgence-of-want is just “not” OK. The easiest thing to do is simply take back that thing from the child who took it, and return it to the one who lost it to them. And all is right in the world again, or is it? We have taught our child several things during this incident, that their tiny brains are big enough to absorb. First, mom or dad, or whoever took away the thing to return it to its rightful owner is bigger than me. Therefore, whoever is bigger, can impose their will on whoever is smaller, that is the way of life. Next, the child in error has not considered the impact to the victim they took from, not before, not during, and certainly not afterwards. So justice, is nothing more than undoing the wrong I have done. I do not have to feel “sorry” about it, to accomplish justice, I just have to make up for it in some tangible way. Justice then is nothing more than undoing what should have never happened at all, and usually only follows getting caught. Finally, but what all parties here should be most concerned with, is that an incident, does not turn into a habit, that does not in turn become a part of the definition of who this child becomes. Ask yourself, does every thief become a thief, because they knew how to get away with it, and just never stopped. Or were they missing parental correction, or does being a thief even bother them in some way? What do we learn in the absence of consequence?
I was a brutal child.
I was bigger. I was
stronger. And my “most often” playmate
was a beautiful little girl younger, smaller, and in no way any competition for
me. So I imposed my will. I took any toy from her even if she was right
in the middle of enjoying it, in fact, that time always seemed like just the
right time to take it. And she
cried. I was unmoved. I should have been spanked. I was for many other crimes, but strangely
not for this one. My mother had another
approach. She forced me to see what my
actions had done to this poor girl, how I had hurt her, how she was grieving
and did not understand my cruelty. It
worked, I returned what I had taken, and immediately began trying to comfort
her. It was now my comfort I would
obsess over, trying to make her feel better, for what I had done. My mother forced me to see my actions in the
light of the heart, the toy was immaterial.
The thing I took lost all meaning.
I did not want it, or anything else.
I wanted the little girl to feel better, to be happy, to recover from
what I had done. My mother did not
impose her will on me in this instance, and it had more effect than any other
approach might have. One could say she
tried to “guilt” me into the right response.
But guilt only works if you feel something in the first place. I didn’t, at least I didn’t until I saw that
little girl’s heart as akin to my own.
Until I could empathize with her pain, and begin to seek to undo the
pain, by any means I could imagine.
But I wonder, what other horrifying personality trait might
I have developed, if this early experience did not serve as a catalyst in my
memory? After all I am anything but a
saint as it is. How much worse would I
have been without this story, reinforced by the retelling over the years, even
into my adulthood. Disobedience does not
seem like such a meaningful thing at the time we pursue it. The devil tells us it is nothing more than a
singular incident, that carries no more weight than a one-time-thing ever
could. So if we indulge, what real harm
could not be undone, from just one thing?
We make excuses. We
rationalize. And we carry out a deed we
should have never gone near. And here is
the kicker, the consequence, is almost always missing from the equation as that
occurs. It is as if the devil himself
takes special measures to make sure we are not caught, and do not suffer, from
what we have done. We are the thief who
gets away with it. Nobody knows, so
nobody is hurt. Given this, what harm in
repeating our nefarious deed? And an
incident repeats itself. And then
again. And before long it is a way of
life for us. And the kicker remains,
still no consequence. At least none we
can see, or care to consider. But damage
is being done, each and every time, and is as inescapable as death itself. We are accumulating an account of pain, that
will one day be paid, in the lives of those we claim to love, in our own, and
in the heart of God. Who we become
matters, and it is who we have become, that we must be saved from.
People who think the pain and consequence that God describes
is a myth, think this, because they have never experienced it … yet. They live in a cocoon of disobedience kept
out of real harms way by Satan himself, to reinforce bad behaviors till we no
longer think them bad. But the rules,
the laws, the admonitions of scripture act as a mirror against our hearts of
disobedience. They force us to see
ourselves and what we do against a standard of purity that will not yield to
accommodate our wickedness. What we do
in this confrontation may well decide our very fates. Lest you think position in the church will
act as a shield for you in this regard, think again. No one is immune. Nor is even leadership in the church body a
protection against it. Consider for a
moment our Pharisee forefathers. They
were devout men, dedicated to the standards of the church Jesus had
established. They read the right
scriptures. They studied them all the
time. They sought righteousness in their
lives. So what had they missed?
Luke discusses an incident in scripture in the 16th
chapter of his gospel letter to his friend about what we believe and why. He picks up with an encounter between Jesus
and the Pharisees beginning in verse 14 reading … “And the Pharisees also, who were
covetous, heard all these things: and they derided him. [verse 15] And he said
unto them, Ye are they which justify yourselves
before men; but God knoweth your hearts: for that which is highly esteemed
among men is abomination in the sight of God.” The Pharisees were pissed. Jesus had just declared that you cannot serve
both God and wealth or money. The
Pharisees were generally well to do, they had money, they thought money was a
sign of the favor of God, of His blessings.
Jesus just undid all of that.
Jesus just declared that money was not really a blessing, instead it was
a problem. The clothes they wore, the
fine linens, the rings on their hands, and chains that adorned their chests and
wrists – none the blessing of God, but rather a mark of the curse of this
world. These men were guilty of
covetousness. In spite of what they had,
which was not small, they still wanted more, much more. The Romans stood in the way of that, but
then, so did this upstart Hippy talking about wealth being a problem. So they started to deride the Son of God, to
make fun of Him, of His clothing, His poverty.
His disciples were no prize either.
All losers. All nothing next to
them. They were the top of the
church. They were the gold
standard. These idiots were nothing to
them.
But Jesus looks deep into “who” they have become, as He
stares into your heart this day as well.
He sees the rationalizations we use to tell ourselves we are not so
bad. He sees the ways we dodge the
rules, avoid the laws, and compare ourselves into holiness by focusing on the
sins of others. We lie to ourselves as
we lie to others. But God is not
fooled. He sees past our lies to the
truth of who we are. And Jesus utters
haunting words that should echo in our ears still today. What we use to justify ourselves, those very
things, are actually abominations in the sight of our God. What men hold us in high esteem over, are the
very things that God cannot stand to look at in us. He has lost our hearts, for we have closed
off our hearts from Him. We stand on the
scriptures, as did the Pharisees. We
stand on church attendance, as did the Pharisees. We stand upon being the leaders in our day,
as did the Pharisees in theirs. But our
prayers are empty for they touch not our hearts in the slightest. We have lost the feeling for the lost, they
are now nothing to us. Nor do we count
ourselves among them because no consequence exists to remind us it may be
so. And we mistake patience for acceptance
of who we have become. But we are wrong.
So Jesus turns to the law to prod these proud men into
seeing how what they do is a complete contrast to what God would have them
do. Jesus continues in verse 16 saying …
“The law and the prophets were until John: since that
time the kingdom of God is preached, and every man presseth into it. [verse
17] And it is easier for heaven and earth to pass, than
one tittle of the law to fail. [verse18]
Whosoever putteth away his wife, and marrieth another, committeth adultery: and
whosoever marrieth her that is put away from her husband committeth adultery.” The Law remains. It is not optional. Our commitments not trivial. What we pledge before almighty God, and
incite Him to bless and seal, remains sealed, and is not subject to the whims
of a wicked heart. The Pharisees
believed that if their respective wives did not please them, they could just
put them away on the backburner, and go find someone else. Divorce had become a meaningless tool to seek
variety to the heart’s content. And
they, and we, treat our God no differently.
We do not commit ourselves to His Law any better than we commit
ourselves to the woman who stands before us now. Let ease or comfort be found in the arms of
another and how quick we are to stray – ever building an account of pain that
will one day come to full harvest.
Consequence had been delayed for the Pharisees, so they believed there
would ever be no consequence. Shielded
from how bad the pain could be, they mistook patience, for tolerance and
acceptance, but it is not so, not for them, nor for us.
They had been hit with the Law. Now it was time to hit them with a parable
based in the fears they held most personal, fears they could not avoid. Jesus continued in verse 19 saying … “There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and
fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day: [verse 20] And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid
at his gate, full of sores, [verse 21] And
desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table:
moreover the dogs came and licked his sores.” Here was the height of contrast in Jewish
society of this day. The rich man was
the Pharisee. He had fine clothing and
ate the finest foods every single day.
By contrast the poor beggar Lazarus, had nothing, had no one, and was
near starvation. Moreover he was covered
with sores, a sure sign of the displeasure of God in this world, a perfect
contrast to the rich man, to them. And
as if it could not get worse, dogs came and licked the sores of the beggar. This was meant to be the height of disgusting
to the rich, to them. But they had
forgotten their charge, their duty. It
was not just to share with those in need, but to meet the need itself. The Pharisees, instead of contempt for the
mans obvious sins, should have been set upon healing his sores, giving him
raiment, putting food in his belly, and helping him find work. A different heart would have pursued these
duties gladly, but alas, it was not so then, or now.
Jesus continues reminding us all what comes for us all and
is inevitable picking back up in verse 22 saying … “And
it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into
Abraham's bosom: the rich man also died, and was buried; [verse 23] And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and
seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. [verse 24] And he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and
send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my
tongue; for I am tormented in this flame. [verse 25] But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime
receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things: but now he is
comforted, and thou art tormented. [verse 26]
And beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed: so that
they which would pass from hence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us,
that would come from thence.”
This is not a parable about salvation, or the afterlife. It is a parable to reset the priorities of
what we think is important in this world.
You will note the logic (clearly not about salvation), the rich man
suffers in hell, because in this life he had extreme wealth, so in the next one
he is tormented. And by the same token,
the poor beggar suffered here so in the next one he sits at the side of
Abraham. Our suffering does not save
us. Only Jesus can do that. What we need is to become different people
than who we have made of ourselves. Just
because consequence is delayed, does not mean consequence is never coming. It is coming with the intensity of hell
itself. And the gulf between heaven and
hell keeps any who think of visiting the other place kept firmly in their
respective sides. i.e. fates will be
forever, whether for good, or for evil.
So the rich man realizes there is no more hope for
himself. The best he can do, is try to
influence his own family before it is too late for them. Jesus continues in verse 27 saying … “Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father, that thou
wouldest send him to my father's house: [verse 28] For I have five brethren; that he may testify unto them,
lest they also come into this place of torment. [verse 29] Abraham saith unto him, They have Moses and the prophets;
let them hear them. [verse 30] And he said, Nay,
father Abraham: but if one went unto them from the dead, they will repent. [verse
31] And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses and
the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.” And here is where the parable goes sideways,
and becomes prophecy. The Pharisees (and
us) refuse to hear the law, the prophets, the scriptures we are supposed to
value so much. Instead we are casual
with our commitments, and loose with our behavior and motives. We treat God like the booby prize at the
fair, instead of treasuring our salvation from who we are. And so we do not hear what was written.
The Pharisees would not hear scripture, nor the God who
spoke to them right that minute, nor the risen Savior would be with them after
His own crucifixion. They would not
repent, no matter what. So what say
you? Are you willing to be broken upon
the anvil of Gods love? Are you willing
to have what your life looks like now shattered into a million pieces by a
loving God until it can be rebuilt into something you cannot possibly imagine
today? For that is what He wants. To save you from who you have become. To spark the heart in you until it is
overflowing. To cause so much love in
you, that you see the need in this world, not as your duty, but as your
opportunity to reflect His love outwards.
In this process you may be forced to confront the pain you have been
accumulating for years on account. It
may come all crashing down in your life.
Those you love you may break with your past. But what can be broken by sin and its
consequence can be remade by a Creator with such tender love and mercy that
what emerges anew wont ever be broken again.
Let us look to Jesus as our sacred Creator, and allow Him to work His
wonders in the very soul of who we are, making us into who He would have us
become, not just later, but now and forever.
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