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Archive for June, 2016

Not Looking Back: How Do We Move Forward?

Luke 9:51-62

journeyhobbitAs a kid, I read The Hobbit numerous times. I’ve reread it as an adult, too. There are many reasons why I like it—the good storytelling, the characters, creatures, languages, and cultures. The overarching theme, though, is what always draws me in. Bilbo Baggins, the little Hobbit with the hairy feet, is the protagonist. And he’s joined by others who are pulled from their comfortable or seemingly routine lives into an adventure they could never have imagined. Elves, dwarves, orcs, trolls, ghost kings, giant spiders, and oh yes, a dragon that talks.

Bilbo, at nearly every step of his journey, is reluctant to move forward.

He resists. From time to time, he looks back at his once-comfortable, mundane life in his hobbit hole called Bag End in the village of Hobbiton. He misses his plates and forks, his full pantry, his wine, ale, food, and pipe. But those moments of looking back don’t last long. Bilbo must keep moving forward on his journey towards the Misty Mountain. And even at the end of his story [at least the end of the book], it is obvious that Bilbo cannot go back to his old life. Sure, his hobbit hole will still be there, but he is forever changed. He is not the same Hobbit that a bunch of dwarves and the wizard Gandalf met some time ago. Since leaving Hobbiton, Bilbo can never go back. The Hobbit lifts up these themes: giving up control; taking risks; Compassionate, loving, reckless abandon.

Let’s take a closer look at another story about the journey, in Luke’s Gospel. Like Bilbo, Jesus of Nazareth sets out on a new journey. He is no longer in Galilee. Now, Jesus sets his face to Jerusalem. This is a new trajectory, a new journey, and one that will be paved with many adventures, much risk, and great danger. By this point, people are taking notice of this Jesus. So he sends messengers ahead to check things out, as they near Jerusalem and approach a village of Samaritans. Remember that Samaritans and Jews did not like each other. They were close in culture and religion, but a violent past had caused both parties to be resentful of each other. So it is no surprise that the Samaritans in this particular village on the way to Jerusalem blocked Jesus and co. Anything to do with Jerusalem was anti-Samaritan, as far as they were concerned.

Then James and John, part of Jesus’ entourage, figured it was time to bring down the hammer on the Samaritans. Why not? Jesus was like Elijah the prophet to them and they remembered an old story in the Hebrew Scriptures about getting rid of people who resisted Yahweh’s work. So they asked Jesus if it would be appropriate for them to command fire to come down and consume the Samaritans.

Really?

If there ever was a moment when I thought that Jesus’ disciples were totally lost, this is it. Are you kidding? It turns my stomach. Obviously, Jesus rebukes them, but still. What in the world were those disciples thinking?

So they go to another village (obviously) and now some people along the road are wishing to join Jesus’ entourage. But it wasn’t Jay Z’s entourage. There were no perks, free lunches, or nice hotel rooms.

Jay-Z-008
Even animals have a place to live, right? But according to Jesus, that was not a guarantee for his followers. This was no cush journey.

Then, yet another person seems to be close to joining Jesus on the journey, but he has some family business to take care of. Burying one’s father is a metaphor for family obligations. He wasn’t able to let go of those obligations to take this new journey. And then another would-be follower expresses willingness to follow Jesus, but he still needs to say goodbye to some people. Not good enough, says Jesus. Let the dead bury the dead and don’t look back.

In my perspective, this is a story about letting go—about moving forward, which means not looking back so much. Often people assume that being a Christ-ian, or a follower of Christ, is about believing something or following a particular religious tradition. That may be true for the various branches of Christianity over the centuries, but it was not true in the Gospels. Jesus was not leading a religion. Jesus was asking people to follow him to a new way of being. And this new way of being was different for each and every person.

For some, Jesus invited them to follow him, because they needed that. Perhaps they had never been invited in their entire lives. They were the outcasts, the untouchables, those whom the religious people didn’t want to hang out with. So Jesus healed them, invited them, and they joined the entourage of the mercy train.

But also, there were those who wanted to follow Jesus. They asked to follow. And each time, Jesus asked them if they were really sure about that. I mean, this would be no prosperity gospel; they would not gain anything materially; they might actually lose material wealth. They wouldn’t be heralded or esteemed; they might even be ridiculed or thought of as strange. And above all, they would have to let go—let go of their world views that were harmful; let go of their prejudices; let go of their attachments to beautiful temples and powerful armies and governments; they would even need to let go of family obligations and guilt. In short, for those who said they wanted to follow Jesus, it was the most difficult, because unlike the outcasts, these would-be followers struggled to let go.

I’ll close with some thoughts about letting go, because I know for many of you, letting go is hard. Let me start by saying what I don’t mean. By letting go I don’t mean that those of you who have been abused in any way, or who have suffered great trauma in the past [and are still obviously dealing with it], I don’t mean that you ought to just get over it. The things that were done to you were of course not your fault, and the healing process of coping with such trauma lasts a lifetime and is an everyday enterprise. Also, keep in mind that Jesus of Nazareth never said “get over it” to any of those who were considered outcasts or who were in need of healing. They were healed and invited on the journey.

What I mean by letting go refers to those reluctant people in the story [and any of us] who are attached to material things and human obligations so much that we cannot move forward. Those of us who are consistently looking back and so full of nostalgia [both good and bad] that the present day is less important and life is stagnant.

Here are some things that have helped me let go of such things obligations. I hope this is helpful for you:

Finding stillness and breathing. Okay, maybe this is weird for some? For me, meditation is helpful, but by meditation I mean just pausing. Really pausing. Stop, even for a few moments, and listen to your breathe. Try it.

Understanding. What has happened in your life? Don’t judge those things. Observe them. Be aware.

Accepting your history. Don’t try to change it. It’s done.

Letting go of judgements, expectations, and material things, as much as possible.

Assessing. What matters most to you in life? Are you pursuing this?

Allowing the Path to be revealed. Don’t force it.

Contributing to the well-being of others, even when you feel angry, sad, or hopeless.

Having fun and laughing. Life actually is short.

Being grateful. Let your gratefulness overcome any complaining.

What things help you to move forward and to let go?

Next week’s teaser: Luke 10:1-11: How Do You Measure Success?

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Being Bound, Being Free

Luke 8:26-39

freedomDoves

Okay, this might start off a little strange. We’re going to talk about a very important theme for all of us as individuals, and extremely important for the health of humanity. But to do so, we’ll look at an incredibly weird and confusing story. Are you ready? Let’s give it a go…

Demons. Really?

I’m no expert on demons, evil spirits, or whatever you wish to call them. I like Hellboy a lot, but he’s kind of an anti-demon + anti-hero, wouldn’t you say?

3013508-hellboy

In fact, I should probably go to my friend and amazing author, Lucas Mangum. Flesh and Fire just might help set some context as to how demons are presented in literature [both religious on secular].

fleshandfire
Maybe Lucas will even chime in! Lucas, are you down there in the comments?

Anyway, this Luke Gospel story is about a bunch of demons. Jesus steps onto gentile territory and he is met immediately by a demon-possessed man. He is called a man of the city, like the woman of the city with the alabaster jar whose tears washed Jesus’ feet in the previous Luke story.

He is an outcast.

He doesn’t have a home, he doesn’t even have clothes. The people of his community even tied him up in shackles. They bound him to try to control him. Jesus, however, approaches him and commands the oppressive spirits to leave the man. Jesus sees him as a human being. But the man is tensed up and yells at Jesus to leave him alone. When Jesus asks him his name, he is able to get out: Legion.

This name makes sense, because a legion of demons was oppressing him. Apparently, the demons are reasonably smart and have thought things through; they have considered their options. The abyss? Not such a great place for demons to have a summer home. The abyss, in ancient Judaism, was a place where evil spirits were tormented. So yeah…no. So the demons beg Jesus to let them escape into some nearby pigs that were minding their own business. Jesus agrees and the demons enter the pigs and the poor animals rush down the steep bank of the lake and drown.

I grew up in Iowa and while I did not live on a farm, the farms were all around me. And so were the pigs. So what’s up with that, Luke? Really? Poor pigs…

Obviously, this is not good news for the guys who work with the pigs. Can you imagine? They were eye witnesses. There they are, minding their own business, when their pigs start going crazy like lemmings and run down the lake’s bank to their death. I imagine that they were ticked off. Which is great for the story, because their anger moves them to run off and tell a bunch of people. Meanwhile, the once-bound and oppressed man is now sitting at the feet of Jesus [just like the lady with the alabaster jar], and now he has clothes on and his sane. But the people of the town don’t celebrate; instead, they are afraid and tell Jesus to get the Galilee out of town. The newly healed man, demon-free man wants to go with Jesus, but Jesus tells him to stay in his town and tell everyone what happened.

I’ll get right to it. I’m not one who believes in demons or evil spirits—at least not the kind with horns and not the ones who make people’s heads turn in complete circles or spit out green fluid. I like reading about them in stories and comics, because I do think they point us to the real thing. That “real thing” is evil, or the personification of evil, and the way that evil can bind and oppress a person, a family, a community, etc. We have no clue as to what really afflicted this guy Gentile territory. Was it his past? Did he suffer abuse of some kind? Was it a chemical imbalance, addiction, what was it? I think Luke doesn’t say for a reason. The point is that he was afflicted by a myriad of things, so take your pick; put yourself in his shoes; put other people you know in his shoes. The first thing that stands out to me is that any kind of afflicted person is still a human being—even if people tie that person up, declare the person untouchable and even inhuman.

Still a human being.

The other thing that I notice is that not only was this man untouchable and marginalized, but the evil spirits themselves ended up in pigs, another untouchable, unclean living thing, at least for the Jews of that time. Remember, Jesus was in Gentile territory. Poor pigs.

And yet, in light of the recent horrific and tragic events in Orlando, Florida [and the sad, ignorant and hateful responses to it by politicians and others], I am going in this direction: you see, we seem to be able to talk about people who have drug or food or gambling addictions; it’s commonplace to talk about people who are bound by an abusive past. But how often do we admit to how many people are bound by prejudice? How many people have evil in their thoughts and worldviews, so much so, that they are willing to hurt others who are different than they are, using hateful words, bullying them, or even resorting to violence? It’s happening too often. And we rarely talk about it. Many of us have family members or friends who are clearly prejudiced against certain people. Gay? Lesbian? Transgender? Non-binary? Black, Asian, Latin American, African, Eastern European, Arab, Spanish-speaker, Atheist, Arabic speaker, Muslim?

They are afflicted, they are bound by their prejudice.

Some of it is a result of social conditioning. Maybe they were raised to hate a certain group of people. Perhaps they went along with their peers in school just to fit in. Or maybe at work it was just easier to put down the person who was different. Whatever the case, prejudice is evil. It is affliction. It binds people.

I, as many other people, I am tired of prayers for families of victims of hate crimes. I’m tired and angry. I’m not saying that prayers don’t matter. I AM saying that prayers are not enough and that sometimes we hide behind them. It’s easier to say we’re praying for the families and victims in Orlando; it’s a lot harder to actually do something about the prejudice and hatred in our own communities, families, schools, and churches. We live in a world in which is easy to spread hatred via social media with one click and a thousand shares. But it’s equally easy to do the opposite—to combat hatred and to cooperate, love, and embrace pluralism of all kinds. Churches pray, but what do churches do? I’m tired of all kinds of prejudice, including subtle prejudice and all the excuses that we continue to make as to why we won’t stand up and say enough is enough! Why we won’t be more courageous in our communities and risk upsetting relationships with friends, classmates, work colleagues, church friends, and even family. Our inaction binds us. Evil happens and we stand silent.

Jesus healed this seemingly untouchable, non-human. But then the newly-restored man was then told to tell the scared and prejudiced people of his town what God had done. What God had done. My take is that whether you believe in this god or not,there is a universal theme here. Everyone deserves to be treated like a human. People will make categories and draw border lines and spread hateful rhetoric to keep us separated. They do that because they gain something from it [usually money and power]. But we can’t make excuses anymore. It’s time to admit to the prejudice that binds us as individuals and communities. The moment is NOW to stand up against your family members, friends, or co-workers who spread hate to others. Unfold your hands, open your eyes, and actually do something. Spread humanity. Spread cooperation. Spread love and acceptance.

Teaser for next week: Luke 9:51-62: Is it difficult sometimes for you to move on from your past? How can we stop looking back so much and move forward?

 

Side note: to all my friends and family and colleagues who identify as Lesbian, Gay, Transgender, or Non-Binary—I love you and I’m angry, too. I pledge to do my best to stand up against hatred and prejudice. My prayers will be my actions. And the same goes for all my Muslim friends and colleagues. Love you, too. I stand with you.

What Do Our Tears Mean?

Luke 7:36 – 8:3

Frederick Buechner[1] wrote:
You never know what may cause tears. The sight of the Atlantic Ocean can do it, or a piece of music, or a face you’ve never seen before. You can never be sure. But of this you can be sure. Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention. They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are, but more often than not… God is speaking to you through them—of the mystery of where you have come from and is summoning you, to where you should go to next.

Do you cry easily and often? Or do you struggle to cry?

What do our tears mean?

cryingAccording to Michael Trimble, British professor at the Institute of Neurology in London, and author of Why Humans Like to Cry, tears are necessary to keep the eyeball moist, and contain proteins and other substances which maintain the eye healthy and to combat infection. Trimble writes: “Humans cry for many reasons, but crying for emotional reasons and crying in response to aesthetic experiences are unique to us.”[2] He goes on to say that tears of joy or sorrow, in other words, the tears that are highly emotional, tell us a lot about ourselves. Emotional crying can help us highlight what’s important and what we need to focus on, says Dr. Lauren Bylsma[3], at the University of Pittsburgh, someone who has conducted various studies about tears and crying.

Tears
I’m sure you probably already knew that there are different types of tears. According to Dr. Bylsma and her co-author Ad J.J.M. Vingerhoets, of Tilburg University in the Netherlands, the first type of tears is basal tears. Basically, we cry to lubricate, nourish, and protect our eyes. This can happen involuntarily, of course. The second type of tears is reflex tears. You cut an onion or if you are allergic to things like smoke, pollen, or ragweed, and well, you tear up. Lastly, the third tear type: the tears that we shed after fighting with someone close to us, getting treated badly, empathizing with someone who is suffering, or crying for help. These are emotional tears.

Truthfully, researchers haven’t quite figured out why we cry. They have theories, of course. Some scientists, according to Vassar psychologist Randy Cornelius,[4] say that emotional tears were [and are] ways to signal distress without making noise. You can make others know you are vulnerable by crying, even if you cannot speak a word. Thus, over time, according Dr. Bylsma, humans have developed a purpose for emotional tears, which is to signal that there is a problem or to ask for comfort or support from another.

vulnerableAnd the research shows that crying can be valuable in a cathartic way. If someone cries in a social situation in which the people are accepting, that person is more likely to feel better after crying. In fact, we will feel better than other social situations in which we held back tears, because we felt unsafe, in danger, or embarrassed. Furthermore, other researchers suggest that emotional tears contain stress hormones that the body can physically push out while we are crying, therefore making us feel calmer. And finally, the difference between happy and sad tears is not very big. Dr. Bylsma states that after crying the body returns to “a state of homeostasis after being aroused—whether positively or negatively.”[5]

I’m fascinated by this. I myself do not cry a lot, but when I do, I can say that the majority of the time I feel better afterwards. And, I can also say that if I cry with people who care about me and accept me, the feeling is not unlike euphoria. So what of the crying woman in Luke’s story?

It all took place in Simon the Pharisee’s house, which should tell us something. The Pharisees were mostly in opposition to Jesus of Nazareth’s teaching, and were certainly not happy with Jesus hanging out with the so-called unclean, marginalized, and sinful. Keep in mind, though, that we cannot make the Pharisees out to be the “bad people” because many times in the Gospel stories, the readers [you and I] are supposed to put ourselves in their shoes. Anyway, the story is not about Pharisees as much as it is about a brave woman who was already shunned and who came into the house [she was completely unwelcome] and brought an alabaster jar of ointment. She came from the city, but it is not said that she was a prostitute, as some interpreters say. Clearly, though, in the eyes of Simon, she was a category and not a person. She stood behind Jesus crying her eyes out, and then she covered his feet with tears and tried to dry them with her hair. She then kissed his feet and anointed him with the ointment. Of course, the host Pharisee mumbled under his breath: If this guy really were a prophet, he would have known what kind of woman this is. She’s a sinner.

Jesus then addressed Simon by name and told him a parable. That was, after all, the purpose of such a meeting at the house—debate and discussion. The parable of the two debtors is pretty clear. Both people owed a lot to a money lender; both were forgiven. Who would be more grateful? Logically, the one who owed the most. Simon got it. Would he get that this woman was a human being, capable of love and not just a category?

Once again, in Luke, Jesus turned. Big deal! He turned toward the woman. Then, he said to Simon: do you SEE her? Yes, that’s the climax, folks. Her tears, her love, her expression of sorrow, were all accepted and embraced. She showed hospitality. She had no more debt. She was forgiven. And her tears told that story. What do you think?

Teaser for next week: Luke 8:26-39: what binds you? In other words, what are the things that keep you from being your whole self? What would it feel like to be unbound, free?

[1] Originally published in Whistling in the Dark and later in Beyond Words
[2] http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/why-humans-like-to-cry/
[3]
http://www.pitt.edu/~bylsmal/
[4]
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=129329054
[5]
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/01/10/tear-facts_n_4570879.html

Feeling a Little Dead?

Luke 7:11-17

Have you ever felt dead?

Do you think that people can be resurrected during this life on earth?

Resurrect
Do you think that people can live again after being dead? Like me, maybe you don’t. Maybe you reserve that type of event for shows like the Walking Dead or Michael Jackson’s Thriller. Whatever the case, if you are at all interested in the Christian Bible, you at least have to address this question, because the Gospels tell various stories about Jesus healing people, and sometimes they were dead. And then they were alive. And, of course, three of the Gospels, in their original endings, have Jesus die and then rise to life.

So here we are in one of those Gospels, Luke.

This story follows the story about Jesus healing a Centurion’s servant and that should come as no surprise. Luke often pairs two healing stories together. Also, notice that Luke has a clear agenda to make Jesus a prophet. Check out 1 Kings 17 and the story of Elijah the prophet who also encounters a widow, at the gate of Zarephath. Elijah’s revives her once-dead son. Clear connection there, huh?

Jesus went to Nain, a town in Galilee. Jesus was followed by a large crowd, and as they entered, they encountered another large crowd of mourners, on their way to mourn the death of the widow’s only son. By being a widow and without a son, she would have been considered marginalized in their society—no money and no support. Well, Jesus “saw” her. Important, because would she be seen at all after this? After the professional mourners went away, she would be left alone. Who would see her? Then, Jesus was moved emotionally and had compassion for her. Finally, he talked to her: Don’t weep.

Then, the drama unfolds. Jesus went up to the bier, the portable frame on which a coffin was taken to the grave, and the people carrying it stopped in their tracks. Jesus touched it; now he was unclean. Jesus didn’t seem to care. He told the supposedly-dead son: Be raised! Those were resurrection words. The son stood up and he was “given” to his mother. The now-combined crowds were scared, excited, and all the rest. Luke’s author reminds us why: a great prophet has arisen among us! There’s that word again: arisen.

Okay, that’s a quick look at the story. Here’s my Twitter-sized take. I’m not one who believes in raising people from the dead. If that makes me a skeptic, so be it. I don’t think these stories are true or false either. I do believe in resurrection, but just not the kind that means zombies and stuff.

I believe that people can raise from the dead, even while their bodies are still alive.

Okay, what? Think about it. Have you ever felt dead, even though you’re technically alive? I know I have. You go through the motions—go to work, school, whatever. Wash, rinse, dry, repeat. But it’s all empty. You’re dead.

empty
And then, something happens. It’s different for everybody and it depends on where you are on your journey. For me, I have experienced resurrection at various times in my life. Once, it was because I realized that I didn’t have to please everyone all the time. That was killing me. I was dead. And then I was alive, because I was free to be myself and not worry so much about pleasing others. Another time, I was dead because I didn’t see any hopeful future ahead of me. I felt stuck. But then, I became alive again when someone entered my life and woke me up to the simple reality of appreciating the present moment and embracing each day. Before I knew it, I wasn’t thinking about a dead future; I was embracing now. I was truly resurrected.
Feeling-alive
So I think this Luke story [and all others of a similar nature] are about how Jesus helped people wake up to reality, to discover that they didn’t have to feel so empty and dead, that they had the ability to really be alive and renewed.

 

Every day we have a chance to redefine ourselves and start over. Man, THAT is life! What do you think?

Next week’s teaser: “Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears,
it is well to pay the closest attention. They are not only telling the secret of who you are, but more often than not of the mystery of where you have come from and are summoning you to where you should go next.”
Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark

Do you cry easily and often, or do you struggle to cry? What do your tears mean?

What’s Faith? Trust and Healing…

Luke 7:1-10

Question: What is faith to you? Can faith lead to healing? If so, how?

I start by saying that faith is sadly misused–both as a word and a concept. I’ve had plenty of experiences in which people were told that they did not have enough faith, or, if a person was going through a really difficult time [or dying of some disease, illness, or injury] that she should just have faith in God and all would be fine.

Faith-healing-630x398

True story. Years ago, in my clinical pastoral care work as part of a Master’s program, I was at Robert Wood Johnson Hospital in NJ. A sixteen-year-old kid was in a terrible car accident. He was brain dead. His mom, however, kept him on the machine that kept him, well, “alive.” Meanwhile, the doctors encouraged her to take him off the machine. He was suffering. But she had faith. She believed. She brought in faith healers and called in the kid’s friends from school. They gathered around him in a circle, with the healer, and were told to pray and to have faith. If they didn’t have enough faith, maybe this kid wouldn’t survive. I was mortified. I looked at those HS kids, standing in that circle, and I thought to myself: what are we doing to them? What’s wrong with us? If this is faith, I want nothing to do with it!

This is a challenging topic, and so, I invite you to interact with me on this blog or to email me. Let’s talk about faith in an authentic way. And now, let’s look at a story in the NT Gospels that may help?

We pick up Luke’s Gospel story right after Jesus of Nazareth’s sermon on the plain, and now it appears that he will be headed to the town of Capernaum. This is one of those rare times [at least in my view] when Luke’s author makes it clear that there is a literary agenda. Luke’s Gospel is kind of a bridge—trying to help Jews and non-Jews [called Gentiles] find some common ground as it pertained to Jesus. So at times, Jesus is portrayed as quite Jewish, but in such a way so as to attract Gentiles to his message. Enter the Centurion, then.

A Centurion was a man who commanded soldiers and servants. He was an authority figure. He was a Gentile. He was most likely someone considered non-religious. But the Centurion, for some reason, loved deeply one of his servants, a servant who happened to be seriously ill. Maybe for the first time, this Centurion felt helpless.

He had no authority; he had no control over the situation.

So this Centurion, who obviously had heard of Jesus, understood only one option: have Jesus, another authority, heal his servant. So yes, it’s a story about authority. One hundred percent. Notice that the Centurion didn’t face Jesus, one authority to another. Notice that he sent Jewish elders to talk to him. Huh? Jewish elders. What in the world?

Well, Luke’s author gives us a clue. Apparently, this particular Centurion “loved” the Jewish people. He even helped them build them a synagogue. Okay, I get it. The Centurion was calling in favors. The Jewish elders obliged. They went to Jesus. We don’t know if these particular Jewish elders were “for” or “against” or “neutral” as it pertained to Jesus’ teachings. Apparently, for Luke, that didn’t matter in the story. The Jewish elders came to Jesus and asked him to go to Capernaum to help the Centurion’s servant.

So Jesus did, of course. But on the way, another twist. Jesus was just about to arrive at the Centurion’s house, and then, the Centurion sends someone else to mediate. This time, it was his friends. The message is:

Jesus, don’t come. I’m not worthy to receive you in my house. But, if you just speak a word, my servant will be healed.

The Centurion isn’t willing to meet Jesus face to face, but he is willing to accept Jesus’ authority to heal. Just as the Centurion was used to ordering people to what to do, perhaps this Jesus could order sickness to leave a person?

Whatever the Centurion’s motivation, Jesus, in Luke’s version of this story, is moved. He marveled at the Centurion.

Then, he turned.

Why is that significant? Because each time that Jesus “turns” it is important. This time is no different. Jesus said he had not seen more faith than that of the Centurion, even in Israel. Does this mean that there was no faith in Israel, in Jesus’ people, the Jews? No, of course not. What it meant was that this Centurion—a non-Jew, non-religious person, surprised everyone [including Jesus], by having faith.

And then, almost like an afterthought in the story, the sick servant got better.

allbetter

At first glance, this story is all about faith. But I don’t think it is—at least not in the way we often talk about faith. The story is about perceived authority and humility. The Centurion realized that he was not in control. He found humility. In this case, that was faith.

So, from my perspective, faith, in this case, is about giving up our desire for control, realizing that that there are some things out of our hands.

What do you think?

Teaser for next week: Luke 7:11-17: A young man had died in a certain town, a mother’s only son. Jesus had compassion for the woman, and…Have you ever felt that you were dead? Why? Can we rise from the dead in this life?

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