Luke 11:1-13
The Presbyterians, as is their wont, tend to make things more complicated than they need to be. Back when I was a Presbyterian seminarian, I learned, all those years ago, that, in order to pass my ordination exams, there was a standard for prayer. I memorized it in case it came up during the worship portion of the exams. A good prayer, according to the Presbyterians, involves six elements: adoration, confession, thanksgiving, supplication, intercession and communion with the saints. I remembered it by the acronym formed by putting the first letters of each word together: ACTSIC. It worked.
Jesus’ disciples in today’s passage want to know how to pray. And they didn’t have the Presbyterian Church to tell them how to do it in those days. So they did what they could do; they went to Jesus. Now the disciples, being good, faithful Jews of their time, no doubt already prayed and knew how to pray. But they probably sensed in Jesus what we would call a deeper spirituality and wanted that connection to God for themselves. And who wouldn’t? I imagine all of us in this room today yearn for a deeper spirituality with God. And that is attainable through a deeper and richer prayer life.
So how is your prayer life? Are you satisfied with your connection with God? Don’t be discouraged if you answered in the negative. Most of us aren’t completely satisfied with our spirituality and need to work on our ongoing struggles with connecting with God. I know I need to, for certain.
So we find the disciples in the reading from Luke asking Jesus how to pray. They want to go deeper too. They want to be more like their teacher; connecting with God and finding God more often through their prayers.
Jesus response to the disciples’ question about prayer actually comes in three parts: a formula, a story and then some advice. Let’s look at them in order.
Jesus comes up with a formula, as it were. We’ve turned it into a prayer itself but if you look closely, it’s more like a template for a prayer than an actual prayer itself. It can guide you in your own prayer life if you use it as such. So let’s see what Jesus says about prayer.
The formula for praying in Luke is very short, shorter than it even is in Matthew’s version of this passage. It begins with an address to God which Jesus used often: Father. Naturally our address may vary; some of us have moved to different ways to address God. I believe that God not only accepts our varying addresses but embraces them. Whatever brings us closest to God is how God wants us to address God.
This prayer that Jesus teaches is both outward looking and inward looking. It is outward in that it asks for God’s reign to be fulfilled in the “your kingdom come” line. We seek the justice and mercy of God’s commonwealth on our earth and pray earnestly for it to happen.
It is inward focused in that we ask for God to be apart of our lives: give us each day our daily bread and forgive us our sins. Each supplication is a request for God to enter in daily and to take care of us. We seek what we need in this prayer: we ask for bread and forgiveness. And we promise to forgive other’s indebtedness to us.
Finally in his example prayer, Jesus says to ask that we not be brought into the time of trial. I admit that I have the most problem with the prayer at this point. Is God going to bring me to a time of trial? Do I worship a God who would purposefully test me? I don’t like to believe that my God is actually like that. I don’t like to think that God is going to test me. But I think the meaning of this phrase is more along the lines of “keep me from facing hard times, God.” That’s the only way I can make sense of this line.
The story that Jesus tells in response to this question is one of persistence. It’s a story of approaching a friend, a neighbor, at midnight and asking for bread for visiting guests. Though the neighbor doesn’t want to get up and unlock his door, the supplicant is persistent. And that’s how we are to be with God; persistent. Seeking God time after time after time. Coming to God again and again and again.
It is important to note that the request for bread is not for the one who is asking for it. It’s for a traveler; a sojourner who needs care. The bread is for someone else. It is an intercession asking for God to take care of someone else’s needs. And so should our prayers include our requests, over and over, for God to care for others.
Finally, we come to the advice. It’s simply knock and the door will be opened; search and you will find. In other words, we have to actually do prayer in order to get results. It’s not going to happen without us doing our part. And once we do, we’re assured that God will listen.
And God will listen kindly. By using the metaphor of parenting and knowing what it is that is good for our children, Jesus reminds us that our heavenly parent, our creator is not going to do us wrong. Who would give a snake to a child when she asked for fish? Who would put a scorpion on the plate of a child expecting an egg? Certainly none of us would do that and certainly not God. Though we may not know what we actually need, God will not do us wrong. God will treat us as a parent would a child, knowing what is good and bad for us.
Prayer is our way of connecting with God. It’s an important part of our spiritual life. We not only speak to God through prayer but also seek to hear God through prayer. Prayer is two-way. Too often we think of it as one-way. But if we are truly serious about prayer, we wait to hear God’s voice to us. That voice may come in any number of ways, but we have to remain attentive in prayer.
I recommend that you follow your urgings for a closer relationship with God. Prayer is certainly one way that you will come closer to the divine. And we all can use a stronger connection to God. Don’t make it complicated like the Presbyterians try to do. Just remember to turn to God with the cares and concerns that you carry with you.
8 July 2007
2 Kings 5:1-14
The story from 2nd Kings which Grace read for us this morning is one of power and powerlessness. It is filled with people of power: kings, generals & prophets. But if you listen carefully you’ll hear the voices of powerless people too.
It’s the story of a powerful general, Naaman, a general of the army of the king of Aram. Naaman was one of the favorite generals of the king of Aram, we’re told. This would indicate that he was successful in his field of…generaling. Possibly he was a brilliant strategist who knew what his enemies were doing before they did and responded accordingly. He likely had the ear of the king by this point and was well-respected throughout his kingdom.
But Naaman had a problem. He had leprosy. Now we don’t know exactly what it meant when the Bible says that someone had leprosy. It was likely a skin condition of some kind; not necessarily the debilitating disease that we’ve called leprosy over the past few centuries. But though we don’t know exactly what it was that was called leprosy, we do know a few things about it: it was incurable and it made you an untouchable in society.
So here was this powerful general, respected and admired by all around him, suffering from this dreaded disease; a disease that would preclude societal contact; a disease that would leave him on the outside. It was a mix of power and powerlessness on the part of Naaman.
But true powerlessness comes next into the picture, when the very lowest of the kingdom speaks up. A slave girl speaks to Naaman’s wife; a slave girl from Israel, taken no doubt in some military campaigns. She is not named in our scriptures; in fact neither the slave girl nor Naaman’s wife are named as is too often the case with women in the bible. But they are actors in this drama with consequences for all concerned.
How much powerless can you be than a slave girl? First off, you’re a foreigner, someone from outside the dominant culture. Our own 21st century struggles with immigration indicate the human propensity to be afraid of the other. It was no different during this era recounted in our scripture. Plus you’re a slave; an unpaid servant whose life is one of service and doing the bidding of others. And finally you’re a girl, indicating you’re young and you’re, worst of all, female. It’s the lowest of the low; the one without any voice in any matter.
But this slave girl spoke up on behalf of her master to her mistress. She said that there is a prophet back home where she came from who could cure the great general Naaman. She speaks with assuredness not usually heard in the powerless so Naaman’s wife passes on the information.
Naaman then goes to his king who says, “by all means, go!” And the king writes a letter of introduction, as it were, to the king of Israel. Now the Israelite king, as often the powerful are, was a bit paranoid when he received the letter. He assumes that the king of Aram is trying to pick a fight with him; to find an excuse to go to war. For if Naaman doesn’t come back cured, then Israel isn’t as powerful as all that after all! That or else the king of Israel prevented the healing of Naaman. So the king of Israel did what people in those ages did at the hearing of bad news: he tore his clothes or rent his garments in the old language.
Elisha, whom our scripture describes as “the man of God,” finds out about the king tearing his clothes and why he did so and sends word to the king essentially saying, “don’t be so silly: send the guy to me and I’ll show him who’s a prophet around here.”
So Naaman shows up at Elisha’s door and Elisha doesn’t even come out to see him. He just sends word through one of his servants, again an unnamed powerless figure, that Naaman should go to the Jordan River and wash seven times.
And now we see another aspect of powerful people. They expect things to be done in a certain way, because Naaman becomes enraged. He’s angry that Elisha himself didn’t come out to see him himself. He’s infuriated that he has to wash in the Jordan, that dumpy little river of Israel; why, he could have washed in one of the great rivers of Aram. Who does this so-called prophet think he is? And to whom does he think he’s talking? Naaman’s a powerful general, not to be dealt with by servants. He was, as the author of 2nd Kings says, in a rage.
Imagine that, enraged because the cure for your disease is beneath you. Naaman expected Elisha himself to come out and use his special powers right then and there, invoking God’s name before him.
Well, again the powerless come too the rescue. Naaman’s servants go to him and suggest he’s overreacting a just a wee bit. They know their boss because they say if you had been told to do something more difficult you would have gladly done it. Why not give this Jordan a try? Huh?
Of course, the exciting finale, which is only one verse long, tells us that Naaman swallowed his pride and washed in the Jordan River 7 times and came out with skin like a newborn babe. The cure worked.
The powerless in this story, servants all and without name, are the true heroes. God acts through them as much as God acts through any king or general. In fact, their voices are those that save the day and bring about the cure. Without them, Naaman would have never found his way to Israel and never would have bathed in the Jordan.
The true power of the story though, of course, is God’s power. Though Elisha comes through as the hero by coming up with the cure for Naaman, it is God’s actions that cure Naaman.
We need to listen to the voices of the powerless in our culture if we are to find the cures for our culture from God. We need to seek out and really listen to those who are disenfranchised and on the margins. The powerless of our culture, and I don’t have to name them. we all know who they are, the ones without voices need to be endued with their voice to point out to the powerful what we need to do for a cure.
The powerful, as we saw, can be vain and paranoid. Those in power are likely to ignore the voices of the powerless and seek out cures that are not of God. Fortunately Naaman listened to the voice of the powerless slave girl in his household and ended up cured of his incurable disease.
We have powerful people in our culture; many people who hold power and rule with firm hands, including in our country. We need to urge them to hear the voices of the powerless of our country and follow the leads the present for the cures of our culture. And our society is deeply in need of cures. There are wide gaps between the haves and the have-nots. Racism is still rampant. And our environment is under attack. And these are just a few examples. Certainly we could each think of other ways our culture needs God’s curing power. But we won’t find out what they are without stopping long enough to listen to the voices of the powerless. May we seek them out and join our voices with theirs.
The story from 2nd Kings which Grace read for us this morning is one of power and powerlessness. It is filled with people of power: kings, generals & prophets. But if you listen carefully you’ll hear the voices of powerless people too.
It’s the story of a powerful general, Naaman, a general of the army of the king of Aram. Naaman was one of the favorite generals of the king of Aram, we’re told. This would indicate that he was successful in his field of…generaling. Possibly he was a brilliant strategist who knew what his enemies were doing before they did and responded accordingly. He likely had the ear of the king by this point and was well-respected throughout his kingdom.
But Naaman had a problem. He had leprosy. Now we don’t know exactly what it meant when the Bible says that someone had leprosy. It was likely a skin condition of some kind; not necessarily the debilitating disease that we’ve called leprosy over the past few centuries. But though we don’t know exactly what it was that was called leprosy, we do know a few things about it: it was incurable and it made you an untouchable in society.
So here was this powerful general, respected and admired by all around him, suffering from this dreaded disease; a disease that would preclude societal contact; a disease that would leave him on the outside. It was a mix of power and powerlessness on the part of Naaman.
But true powerlessness comes next into the picture, when the very lowest of the kingdom speaks up. A slave girl speaks to Naaman’s wife; a slave girl from Israel, taken no doubt in some military campaigns. She is not named in our scriptures; in fact neither the slave girl nor Naaman’s wife are named as is too often the case with women in the bible. But they are actors in this drama with consequences for all concerned.
How much powerless can you be than a slave girl? First off, you’re a foreigner, someone from outside the dominant culture. Our own 21st century struggles with immigration indicate the human propensity to be afraid of the other. It was no different during this era recounted in our scripture. Plus you’re a slave; an unpaid servant whose life is one of service and doing the bidding of others. And finally you’re a girl, indicating you’re young and you’re, worst of all, female. It’s the lowest of the low; the one without any voice in any matter.
But this slave girl spoke up on behalf of her master to her mistress. She said that there is a prophet back home where she came from who could cure the great general Naaman. She speaks with assuredness not usually heard in the powerless so Naaman’s wife passes on the information.
Naaman then goes to his king who says, “by all means, go!” And the king writes a letter of introduction, as it were, to the king of Israel. Now the Israelite king, as often the powerful are, was a bit paranoid when he received the letter. He assumes that the king of Aram is trying to pick a fight with him; to find an excuse to go to war. For if Naaman doesn’t come back cured, then Israel isn’t as powerful as all that after all! That or else the king of Israel prevented the healing of Naaman. So the king of Israel did what people in those ages did at the hearing of bad news: he tore his clothes or rent his garments in the old language.
Elisha, whom our scripture describes as “the man of God,” finds out about the king tearing his clothes and why he did so and sends word to the king essentially saying, “don’t be so silly: send the guy to me and I’ll show him who’s a prophet around here.”
So Naaman shows up at Elisha’s door and Elisha doesn’t even come out to see him. He just sends word through one of his servants, again an unnamed powerless figure, that Naaman should go to the Jordan River and wash seven times.
And now we see another aspect of powerful people. They expect things to be done in a certain way, because Naaman becomes enraged. He’s angry that Elisha himself didn’t come out to see him himself. He’s infuriated that he has to wash in the Jordan, that dumpy little river of Israel; why, he could have washed in one of the great rivers of Aram. Who does this so-called prophet think he is? And to whom does he think he’s talking? Naaman’s a powerful general, not to be dealt with by servants. He was, as the author of 2nd Kings says, in a rage.
Imagine that, enraged because the cure for your disease is beneath you. Naaman expected Elisha himself to come out and use his special powers right then and there, invoking God’s name before him.
Well, again the powerless come too the rescue. Naaman’s servants go to him and suggest he’s overreacting a just a wee bit. They know their boss because they say if you had been told to do something more difficult you would have gladly done it. Why not give this Jordan a try? Huh?
Of course, the exciting finale, which is only one verse long, tells us that Naaman swallowed his pride and washed in the Jordan River 7 times and came out with skin like a newborn babe. The cure worked.
The powerless in this story, servants all and without name, are the true heroes. God acts through them as much as God acts through any king or general. In fact, their voices are those that save the day and bring about the cure. Without them, Naaman would have never found his way to Israel and never would have bathed in the Jordan.
The true power of the story though, of course, is God’s power. Though Elisha comes through as the hero by coming up with the cure for Naaman, it is God’s actions that cure Naaman.
We need to listen to the voices of the powerless in our culture if we are to find the cures for our culture from God. We need to seek out and really listen to those who are disenfranchised and on the margins. The powerless of our culture, and I don’t have to name them. we all know who they are, the ones without voices need to be endued with their voice to point out to the powerful what we need to do for a cure.
The powerful, as we saw, can be vain and paranoid. Those in power are likely to ignore the voices of the powerless and seek out cures that are not of God. Fortunately Naaman listened to the voice of the powerless slave girl in his household and ended up cured of his incurable disease.
We have powerful people in our culture; many people who hold power and rule with firm hands, including in our country. We need to urge them to hear the voices of the powerless of our country and follow the leads the present for the cures of our culture. And our society is deeply in need of cures. There are wide gaps between the haves and the have-nots. Racism is still rampant. And our environment is under attack. And these are just a few examples. Certainly we could each think of other ways our culture needs God’s curing power. But we won’t find out what they are without stopping long enough to listen to the voices of the powerless. May we seek them out and join our voices with theirs.
1 July 2007
Luke 9:51-62
It’s like Jesus didn’t want disciples. This passage from Luke is one of those occasions where Jesus comes across as petulant; even nasty. We read passages such as this one and think to ourselves, “is this the Lord that I follow?” Jesus, I admit does not come across all that well today.
Jesus has already set his face to Jerusalem, we’re told at the beginning of this passage, and we all know where that will lead. He is resolute in his journey. He knows how this trip to Jerusalem will end up too, I’m sure.
First they enter a village of the Samaritans. There’s no surprise that they don’t get a good reception there; the Samaritans and the Jews were hated enemies of each other. So they move on to another village.
On the way, Jesus talks to three people; three potential followers. And this is where we get into trouble. Jesus’ responses to these three would-be disciples are not what we expect. We expect Jesus to be chipper and say, “Sure, c’mon, join in. There’s room for all who want to follow me.” We want Jesus to be a Lord of politeness, making room for all.
But that’s not what we get. We get these somewhat cryptic, somewhat outright answers that put limits and conditions on being a follower. But let’s take a closer look at each of the three potential followers of Jesus and Jesus’ reply to each of them and think about what the consequences for us today are.
First, we have one follower say, “I will follow you wherever you go.” That sounds pretty straight forward, doesn’t it? Anywhere you go in your wanderings, any place, I shall be there with you. Sounds like a good follower to me, doesn’t it to you?
What is Jesus’ response? “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” Okay, at first this sounds like a warning to the would-be follower that things may not be easy. We’re not talking about staying at Marriots and sending out for meals. We’re talking about a hard life.
But there’s more to it than that, it appears. You know how we associate certain animals with certain countries? Like the eagle with the US and the bear with Russia? Well, it was no different in the first century. “Birds of the air” was evidently how the Jews referred to Gentiles, including the hated Romans who ruled the land. And remember at one point Jesus refers to Herod, the puppet king of Israel, as a fox? Well, Jesus is making the point to this potential follower that outsiders have places to rest in Israel but the one who is truly Israel, the Son of God, the Human One, really has no where in the land that is his. He’s not a ruler like these other rulers and anyone who is going to follow him had just better get used to that idea.
The second conversation is harder for us to grasp because it goes against our grain so much. Jesus says “follow me” to someone. The would-be follower says, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” This sounds like a reasonable request, especially when you consider that Jews had strict laws about burial of the dead. Jesus’ reply, about letting the dead bury their own and telling him to go and proclaim the kingdom of God instead seems downright abrupt and even cruel to someone who is in mourning.
But there’s something going on that we don’t realize in this passage; something we miss in our cross-cultural misunderstanding. At this point in history, in the Jewish culture, a son was expected to stay at home with his father until the father died. This is likely what the would-be follower was referring to; not that his father had died, but that he had to wait until the father had died before he could follow Jesus. That could be years or decades, of course. And Jesus was saying he can’t wait that long. The follower must make a choice between family obligations and his obligation to God. He must make a choice between cultural expectations and a new way of doing things. Jesus expected this follower to begin proclaiming the good news of God’s commonwealth here and now; not in some distant future time.
The final would-be follower simply wants to say goodbye to his loved ones before taking off with this itinerant preacher. This sounds like a reasonable request, doesn’t it? The words we heard this morning were, “let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Actually, it should read something more like, “let me take my leave of those at home.” There’s a slight difference between the two. In the first case, saying farewell, the leave-taker is in charge and goes off on his or her own. In the second case, that of taking one’s leave, there is an implied consent from those who are being left behind. Taking one’s leave entails asking for permission and receiving a blessing to go.
Now what family is going to give permission for a young person to go off with this hare-brained, itinerant teacher who just goes around stirring things up and making the religious authorities angry at him? No, Jesus knows that he doesn’t fit in with the status quo and knows also that no parent in his/her right mind is going to give leave to an offspring to go with Jesus. Now, Jesus’ response is cryptic…to us. But to someone in an agricultural society it makes perfect sense. “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”
When you’re plowing a field, you put a marker at the opposite end of the field as a place to aim for as you plow. Looking back or taking your eyes off that goal will end up with crooked furrows and an embarrassing field. No, following Jesus means keeping your eyes straight ahead and not varying from the goal of bringing in God’s commonwealth.
We are followers of Jesus, or so we claim to be. These verses, as difficult as they are to comprehend and take into our system, are as valid today as they were when Jesus first spoke them. We simply have to keep them in mind as we go about our business each and every day of our life.
The message is clear once this passage is cleared up. Following Jesus is neither popular nor easy and Jesus is not going to be the ruler that we assume him to be. Jesus expects you to make God your number one priority, over and against all other obligations including your family and the society in which you live. And it requires concentration and an unswerving allegiance to God and God’s commonwealth.
We’ve lost some of these concepts in our culture. With Christianity the majority culture in our society, we may not realize the radicalness of following Jesus and what it requires. But if we are to be true followers, we must remember the lessons of these three would-be disciples of Jesus.
It’s like Jesus didn’t want disciples. This passage from Luke is one of those occasions where Jesus comes across as petulant; even nasty. We read passages such as this one and think to ourselves, “is this the Lord that I follow?” Jesus, I admit does not come across all that well today.
Jesus has already set his face to Jerusalem, we’re told at the beginning of this passage, and we all know where that will lead. He is resolute in his journey. He knows how this trip to Jerusalem will end up too, I’m sure.
First they enter a village of the Samaritans. There’s no surprise that they don’t get a good reception there; the Samaritans and the Jews were hated enemies of each other. So they move on to another village.
On the way, Jesus talks to three people; three potential followers. And this is where we get into trouble. Jesus’ responses to these three would-be disciples are not what we expect. We expect Jesus to be chipper and say, “Sure, c’mon, join in. There’s room for all who want to follow me.” We want Jesus to be a Lord of politeness, making room for all.
But that’s not what we get. We get these somewhat cryptic, somewhat outright answers that put limits and conditions on being a follower. But let’s take a closer look at each of the three potential followers of Jesus and Jesus’ reply to each of them and think about what the consequences for us today are.
First, we have one follower say, “I will follow you wherever you go.” That sounds pretty straight forward, doesn’t it? Anywhere you go in your wanderings, any place, I shall be there with you. Sounds like a good follower to me, doesn’t it to you?
What is Jesus’ response? “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” Okay, at first this sounds like a warning to the would-be follower that things may not be easy. We’re not talking about staying at Marriots and sending out for meals. We’re talking about a hard life.
But there’s more to it than that, it appears. You know how we associate certain animals with certain countries? Like the eagle with the US and the bear with Russia? Well, it was no different in the first century. “Birds of the air” was evidently how the Jews referred to Gentiles, including the hated Romans who ruled the land. And remember at one point Jesus refers to Herod, the puppet king of Israel, as a fox? Well, Jesus is making the point to this potential follower that outsiders have places to rest in Israel but the one who is truly Israel, the Son of God, the Human One, really has no where in the land that is his. He’s not a ruler like these other rulers and anyone who is going to follow him had just better get used to that idea.
The second conversation is harder for us to grasp because it goes against our grain so much. Jesus says “follow me” to someone. The would-be follower says, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” This sounds like a reasonable request, especially when you consider that Jews had strict laws about burial of the dead. Jesus’ reply, about letting the dead bury their own and telling him to go and proclaim the kingdom of God instead seems downright abrupt and even cruel to someone who is in mourning.
But there’s something going on that we don’t realize in this passage; something we miss in our cross-cultural misunderstanding. At this point in history, in the Jewish culture, a son was expected to stay at home with his father until the father died. This is likely what the would-be follower was referring to; not that his father had died, but that he had to wait until the father had died before he could follow Jesus. That could be years or decades, of course. And Jesus was saying he can’t wait that long. The follower must make a choice between family obligations and his obligation to God. He must make a choice between cultural expectations and a new way of doing things. Jesus expected this follower to begin proclaiming the good news of God’s commonwealth here and now; not in some distant future time.
The final would-be follower simply wants to say goodbye to his loved ones before taking off with this itinerant preacher. This sounds like a reasonable request, doesn’t it? The words we heard this morning were, “let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Actually, it should read something more like, “let me take my leave of those at home.” There’s a slight difference between the two. In the first case, saying farewell, the leave-taker is in charge and goes off on his or her own. In the second case, that of taking one’s leave, there is an implied consent from those who are being left behind. Taking one’s leave entails asking for permission and receiving a blessing to go.
Now what family is going to give permission for a young person to go off with this hare-brained, itinerant teacher who just goes around stirring things up and making the religious authorities angry at him? No, Jesus knows that he doesn’t fit in with the status quo and knows also that no parent in his/her right mind is going to give leave to an offspring to go with Jesus. Now, Jesus’ response is cryptic…to us. But to someone in an agricultural society it makes perfect sense. “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”
When you’re plowing a field, you put a marker at the opposite end of the field as a place to aim for as you plow. Looking back or taking your eyes off that goal will end up with crooked furrows and an embarrassing field. No, following Jesus means keeping your eyes straight ahead and not varying from the goal of bringing in God’s commonwealth.
We are followers of Jesus, or so we claim to be. These verses, as difficult as they are to comprehend and take into our system, are as valid today as they were when Jesus first spoke them. We simply have to keep them in mind as we go about our business each and every day of our life.
The message is clear once this passage is cleared up. Following Jesus is neither popular nor easy and Jesus is not going to be the ruler that we assume him to be. Jesus expects you to make God your number one priority, over and against all other obligations including your family and the society in which you live. And it requires concentration and an unswerving allegiance to God and God’s commonwealth.
We’ve lost some of these concepts in our culture. With Christianity the majority culture in our society, we may not realize the radicalness of following Jesus and what it requires. But if we are to be true followers, we must remember the lessons of these three would-be disciples of Jesus.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
