You’ve Got a Friend

Scripture: Luke 19.1-10; Job 23.1-9, 16-17


I was visiting someone in Bon Secours hospital. I was in their room with them when my cell phone rang. (I know, what was I doing with my phone on in the hospital?). I glanced to see who was calling, and then assured the patient that the call could wait, and we went on chatting.

I didn’t answer the call right away, (which would have been rude and unprofessional) but I did call them back. It was my friend Jim. He had called to talk about fantasy football.

“Excuse me, sick person, while I take this call. It’s important. Shawn Alexander just sprained his ankle at practice this afternoon. We need to talk about it.”

Now, fantasy football is not all my friend and I talk about. We do talk about more important things. But it seems to me the measure of a friendship sometimes is the love of discussing unimportant things – even trivial things.

Seinfeld, one of the best and most popular shows ever on television, continues to be avidly watched in syndication. Why? Because it’s a funny show? Yes. But, also this – the “Show About Nothing” was really about something very important, a group of friends. These friends loved to be together and talk to each other about even, to quote Elaine, “the most excruciating minutiae of our daily lives.”

Friends will talk about most anything with each other, just so they can talk. Friends don’t need a reason to be together.

Do you have friends in your life like that? How did you become friends?

It was probably a discovery of common interests or perspectives on life. A similar sense of humor maybe.

What? You too?, you say. You love bobbleheads as much as I do? And a friendship is born.

This is no accident. We are made to have friends. We are made to live in community. We are not supposed to always be alone.

The Tom Hanks movie, “Cast Away” was on television this week. Maybe you know the story – this guy’s plane crashes, he’s the only survivor, and he washes up on a deserted island. After finding ways to satisfy his needs for food, shelter and warmth the next thing that the guy does is try to find a friend, someone to talk to. But he’s alone on an island. Who’s he gonna talk to? He’s been cast away from human community. So he finds this volleyball amid the flotsam of the plane crash and the cast away paints a face on it and begins to have conversations with the volleyball. “So, Wilson. ..” the castaway begins.


There once was a man who lived very much among other human beings, but for various reasons, managed to live very much alone. His name was Zacchaeus. He was a tax collector and he was rich. Already I don’t like him. Neither did his community. Nobody would be friends with him. Nobody respectable anyway. In effect, Zacchaeus was living on a deserted island in a sea of people. He was cast away because he was deemed “unfriendworthy.”

Now, I’m not saying he didn’t have it coming. He was probably not an easy guy to like. And for himself, Zacchaeus probably believes it too. I am not a likeable guy. I don’t have hobbies. I frighten small children. But I have my job and my money and that’ll have to be enough. This castaway assumes he’ll never get off his island. His life will never change.

But one day a traveling Rabbi comes to town. Loner that he is, even Zacchaeus has heard of this Rabbi named Jesus. But there are so many people and no one has saved a seat for Zacchaues. He’s a small man and so he climbs a tree to get a better vantage point.

Now, it’s impossible to know exactly what was going through Zacchaeus’ mind as he climbed up on that perch. Maybe he was just taking in the parade. Maybe he was trying to fit in with everyone else, or maybe this was just a perverse way of feeling his aloneness even more deeply amid all these people.

But there is another possibility. Maybe in this man there is a little part of him that wonders if his life can be different. We’ll call that little part, hope. Maybe he’s prayed the prayer that Job prayed, “My life stinks. God, where are you?” And maybe Zacchaeus has heard that this Jesus talks about God like he’s friends with him, like it’s real.

Sometimes with religion people talk about witnessing and taking God back to their homes or to work or into the streets. But the truth is it’s impossible and it’s unnecessary. As Rob Bell points out, “if you see yourself carrying God to places, well, that can exhausting. God is really heavy.” Secondly, it’s unnecessary to take God anywhere because God is already there.

Antime any of us see something amazing or hear something beautiful. . .anytime we have a good meal, well, that’s a sign that God is around.

It’s like in J.D. Salinger’s book, Franny and Zooey – a nine year old boy named Zooey swears to his brothers and sisters that Jesus appeared to him late one night in the kitchen when he was having a glass of ginger ale. (Jesus asked if he could have just a small glass) Later, as a young man Zooey talks about faith with his sister and says, “Who in the Bible besides Jesus really knew which end was up? Nobody. . .Jesus realized there is no separation from God.”

The Bible’s central promise is not, “You are forgiven,” or “You can go to heaven,” – though they’re certainly in there – the Bible’s central promise is, “I am with you.”

I am with you. That’s the most important thing God wants us to know. He is with us because, as silly, clichéd, unlikely, or amazing as this seems, God wants to be our friend.

Jesus didn’t carry God to Zacchaeus’ town. Jesus helped people to see the God who was already there. Zacchaeus was “ a small man.” After he saw Jesus Zacchaeus got bigger. Suddenly the desert island didn’t seem so deserted. When Jesus asked to come to his house, the former tax collector knew that God wanted to be his friend.

Have you noticed signs that maybe God is around in your life?

Is God welcome in your home?

What would it look in your life to be friends with God?

Beyond Words

Scripture: Mark 10.2-16; Job 1.1; 2.1-10


There was a donut missing the other day at our house. Seth has picked one out and put it on a plate with the note, “Seth’s donut.” Pretty clear, right? Only, someone took it, and I assume, ate it. There was a search involved, some unpleasant questioning. Accusations flew. The perpetrator, amid some laughter, confessed. The name will be withheld to protect the guilty.

But the scene reminded me of a story that has been in my family involving my brother, myself, and a donut. I’ve told this story before. Upon close inspection there’s really not much to this story except my brother’s line – “I had my eye on that donut.” Outsiders may listen and be slightly amused or not. But if you mention that line to one of my sisters or myself, we will still crack up, almost twenty-five years after we first heard Scott say it. It’s one of those stories that you end the telling with, “You had to be there.”

The telling doesn’t do justice to the reality. That’s the limitation of language, especially, of words.

You have heard me say how important and powerful words are. Words shape reality. Mere words call reality into being. “Then God said, ‘Let there be light. And there was light.”

“In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God. And the Word was God.”

The Word is living and active and powerful. However, at least from mortal mouths, words have limitations. Words sometimes strain to capture the reality of life.

Consider the story of Job.

“There once was a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job. That man was blameless and upright, once who feared God and turned away from evil.”

Bible scholars believe that the book of Job was the first book of the Bible to appear in written form. As such, it’s older than than the stories of the Kings and the Judges. It’s older than the Law of Moses and the Exodus. As a written story, it’s older than Genesis, the book of beginnings.

The story of Job is archetypal. It has the power of myth that actually happened. The ancient Israelites probably all knew that opening line by heart, “There once was a man in the land of Uz. . .” For them, it was like “Once upon a time. . .”

And the story has the charm and gravitas of both fairy tale and epic. It has cosmic forces and personalities dipping in to our everyday world and affecting the life of an ordinary Joe named Job. The sons of God (principalities, powers, spirits, angels) come before God and so does Satan (because he is one of them, though obviously now fallen). God says, “Have you seen my servant Job?”

Like a proud parent, God holds Job up for display. God says, in effect, “Look at my boy! He’s getting straight A’s! He’s so well behaved. I am so proud!”

And of course, Satan scoffs. No wonder. You’ve given him everything in life a man could want. Make him suffer. Make him hurt. See what happens to your boy then.

And so the story of Job is a study in the problem of pain and suffering and evil. This is why Job is an archetypal story. This is why it’s an epic. Because humanity has wanted to know the answer to this problem since before time – if God is good, why is there evil and suffering in the world?

Satan tempts and accuses, and God takes the bait - and Job suffers. The rest of the book of Job, all thirty-nine chapters, is really commentary on that question. Job’s wife and Job’s friends all weigh in on that question, and some, with many words.

I won’t give away the whole ending, but suffice it to say, Job’s friends answers are less than satisfactory. Their words sound good and logical, even pietistic and religious. But they fail to capture the reality that Job is experiencing. At one point, Job cries out, “If only there were a mediator between God and man, to state our case!” Job is looking for a reality that has not yet happened, but we know will. Job is waiting for God to do something about his suffering. Job is waiting for God to answer.

Our religion is a religion of words. But not words only. If we’re not careful, we can sound like Job’s friends in the face of other peoples pain and challenges. We can pretend to have all the right words and answers to people’s questions – but we would be wrong.

The issue of divorce is a good example. The Pharisees come to test Jesus again on the very difficult question of “When is it lawful (right) to get a divorce?” Jesus asks them what does the law of Moses say?

Well, the law of Moses gave certain provisions and conditions for divorce. Moses, in turn, had been interpreted by two main schools of rabbinical thought, by two key rabbi’s, Shammai and Hillel. One was much stricter about who could divorce than the other. In the Gospels, Jesus is stricter yet. But Jesus main concern is not the rules of divorce but rather the reality of marriage. Jesus points to the physical and spiritual reality of what it means for “the two become one.”

One might ask, why is there different sayings and interpretations on divorce in the Bible? Because words strain to capture the reality. That’s why we say context is so important. That’s why a good student of the Word reads the whole Bible and lets “the Bible interpret the Bible,” so to speak.

Does this make the words less important? By no means! But we must humbly confess our limited understanding of the reality of God’s power and Word. No matter how well we think we understand, we know that our doctrines and sermons and beliefs about God do not define, capture, or corral the reality and experience of God.

There were certain questions that Jesus refused to answer. Some things were simply on a need to know basis only. Some, Jesus said, were beyond our understanding, beyond words.

“If I tell you things of earth and you do not understand how shall you understand when I tell you things of heaven?”


In the end, God has spoken most clearly to mankind not in what He said but in what He did. The best language is the language of the Creation, the Incarnation, the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection. If you can’t hear that language then you are less alive than the rocks and the trees and the very skies.

Or as St. Francis of Assisi is to have said, “Preach the Gospel at all times; if necessary use words.”

Our task is not only speak about God as correctly as we can (God’s answer to Job’s friends was “you have not spoken about me correctly”) but to experience God in reality.


“This people draweth nigh unto me with their mouth, and honoureth me with their lips; but their heart is far from me.” Matthew 15.8

We must give our hearts to God and living in His presence.

Beyond all religion lies Something, or rather Someone, that religion can never capture, Who is more real than any practices or doctrines.

As C.S. Lewis wrote, “We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito. And the incognito is not always hard to penetrate. The real labour is to remember, to attend. In fact, to come awake. Still more, to remain awake.”

One

Scripture: Mark 9.38-50; Romans 5.18-6.4


What is a disciple? One who closely follows a Rabbi or Teacher. Notice the word closely.

An early Jewish sage once said to disciples, “Cover yourself with the dust of your rabbi’s feet.”

Rob Bell tells of a friend who once saw a rabbi go into a bathroom and his disciples followed him in. They didn’t want to miss anything the rabbi might say or do while he was in the bathroom!

In Orthodox Judaism children are taught the Torah, the first five books of the Bible. Torah means teachings, instructions, or simply “Way.” Israel believed that following Torah, God’s word to Moses, was simply the best way to live. Jews in Jesus day prided themselves on teaching their children Torah. Education wasn’t a luxury, but rather a necessity for life. Six year old children memorized Torah at their local synagogue under the instruction of their rabbi. By the age of ten most students would know the Torah by heart – Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy – memorized. After that, the better students would go on to Talmud, the rest of the Old Testament, while those who didn’t would begin to learn the family trade.

At fourteen, the very best students would apply to become disciples, talmidim, of a rabbi. A student would present himself to a rabbi and ask to become a disciple. The rabbi would choose the disciples who he thought, not only could learn, but become like the rabbi himself. Can this kid cut it? Can this kid take my yoke upon himself?

At one point, Jesus reminds his disciples, “You did not choose me – I chose you.” And whom Jesus choose. Fishermen, tax collectors. Why were they doing these things when Jesus called them? Because they weren’t the best of the best. They were the average students, the not-good-enoughs. That’s who Jesus wanted.

Jesus believes these average fishermen can do it. He believes they can become like Him.

“John said to him, “Rabbi, we saw a man casting out demons in your name, and we forbid him, because he was not following us.”

What’s the disciples beef? Some guy is using their Rabbi’s good name, Jesus, to do his own stuff. Some would-be disciple who hasn’t taken up Jesus yoke is going around doing good under his nametag. The disciples have a legitimate point. Not only that, but they were probably just a little miffed and dismayed that they had just come off the experience of failing to heal a demon-possessed boy themselves. They had used the authority of their rabbi’s name but come up empty. And then they stumble upon this Johnny-come-lately nobody who is just doing these miracles, and well, Lord, it’s embarrassing to them. Standards must be maintained. They had sacrificed everything to follow in the dust of their rabbi. But this stranger, what had he sacrificed?

The answer Jesus gives them is telling. He talks about “mighty works” and “a cup of water.” Though he doesn’t use the word truth here, Jesus fleshes out what truth and life is. He uses the metaphor of salt. Salt can be what is used to judge and punish us and salt can be what gives us flavor, what gives us life. Salt is good. Salt is truth.

The Pope got in trouble the other day because of some salty words. Turns out he was quoting a medieval text on Islam in a discussion of the present day relationship of Islam to Christianity and the Western world. The text said that Mohammed didn’t bring peace but rather often violence. It was a controversial text. But Pope Benedict didn’t say he believed it, he just quoted it. This caused a firestorm among those ready to find another reason to attack Christianity and the West. Some of these radicals proved how wrong the Pope was by killing a nun and some other innocents.

It’s an unfortunate situation but it illustrates how delicate and incendiary is the question of Truth in the world. Who has Truth?

No religion has a corner on Truth. The problem with Christianity too many times is that it is presented in a very narrow and dry, or weak and pitiful way and then claims, “Only we have the Truth.” Other religions come across this way too, but we should concern ourselves with our religion.

The reality is that God is present everywhere in everything. The Jews of Jesus day believed that the world was literally jumping with God’s glory, juiced with his presence. The presence of God was so real and heavy that sometimes you had to brush it away from your face.

David said, “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?”

Jacob said, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.”

God is always present. We are the ones who occasionally show up.

The Apostle Paul affirmed that God’s presence and truth is international and universal when he spoke on Mars Hill and other places. Paul was confident that God’s truth revealed in Jesus Christ was true everywhere and always for everyone. And Paul believed that there were foundations of truth and seeds of truth in every culture and among all peoples. The One true God had prepared both Jew and Gentile to receive Truth in the person of Christ.

As modern and postmodern people today we might wonder what does stained glass and hymns and sermons have to do with the truth I feel and experience in everyday life?

Everybody has spiritual experiences. Watching a red sunset is very often spiritual. Feeding homeless people or visiting a sick friend, that’s spiritual. Watching my children fall asleep is a spiritual experience to me. Are these experiences strictly religious? No.
Are they true? Absolutely.

“Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely and gracious, anything that is excellent and praiseworthy, think about these things.” Philippians 4.8

It is all from God and it all belongs to you.

I have often thought that in moments of weakness it is possible for me to doubt God, to disbelieve all this religion. Though I believe the historical truth of Jesus, the Cross, the Resurrection – there are times I could deny it. I could turn my back on it and my responsibility to it. I could stop following and go my own way. But I know it couldn’t last. Because I couldn’t find a place to go where God wouldn’t be there to. He would always be showing up in so many little things.

It would be annoying and frustrating. I might even get angry. It’s like what some people who have gone through a divorce say. It’s in one way harder for them because it’s not like their ex has died. No, they’re still walking around this planet and sometimes you bump into them and have to be reminded of their presence.

I could divorce God. But He wouldn’t be dead.

All my life speaks of God’s life around me and in me. We can find truth in a lot of places. Lots of things taste salty. We shouldn’t deny that. We can find truth in other religions as well. This is a good thing.

But the Teacher we are following, we follow not for a religion but for Himself.

“I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life,” Jesus says.

Following Jesus is the best way to live.

Or as Paul puts it in Colossians 2, “These religious acts an rules are a shadow of what is to come – the substance, the reality is found in Christ.”


Everyone who seeks truth and life, I believe, will find it in the One who is Truth and Life.
Let us follow as closely in his presence as we can.

The Choice of Transformation

Scripture: Mark 9.30-37; James 3.13-4.3, 7-10



I was admiring my friend’s t-shirt the other day. It was a shirt he had received for running in a 10k race.

Me: “I like your shirt. I wish I had a shirt like that.”

My friend: “There’s a way you could have a shirt like this.” He was implying that I could get the shirt by running the race with him next time.

Me: “I don’t want to make the effort and commitment – I just want the t-shirt.”



If we’re not careful, our religion can be just that, a way of being identified with the right kind of cause or group without the commitment and long-term work necessary for really becoming the sort of person we say we are. Our faith can be as easy as buying a t-shirt.

But in fact, it’s not. Because it is not a religion we are pursuing, but a person who keeps saying things to us and what’s more,, he keeps walking, oftentimes away from us, so we have to occasionally scurry to keep up and to hear what He just said. Being a Chrisitian is being a disciple, and the way of a disciple is the long path of transformation.


Notice in Mark’s Gospel that Jesus and the disciples are always “on the way” to somewhere. Mostly, as Jesus was soon to tell them, they are on the way to a city called Jerusalem, and a place, not then well known but whose name would become infamous – a place called Golgotha. But for now, they are just “on the way to Capernaum.”

“They passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it; for he was teaching his disciples. . .”

It’s one of those frequent moments in the Gospel that I love, the time when Jesus has gone out of his way to make sure it’s just him and his closest friends. He wants time with them without the distractions and busyness that the crowds bring with them. It’s important for us to remember that these small group times, these “alone” times are not just a retreat or respite from their “real lives” or the “real work”; this is their real life and work. Jesus is the Teacher and they are the disciples. Jesus is the Master and they are the apprentices. You get the sense that Jesus loves these times and so do the disciples. They get to ask questions and talk about so many things with Jesus.

These special small group times were not without their challenges. Sometimes things could get tense. The disciples found that Jesus was not always in a good mood. Sometimes things could get awkward or even embarrassing. Like now:

“When he was in the house he asked them, ‘What were you arguing about on the way?’

They didn’t want to tell him. Because what they had been arguing about was, well, who was the best disciple. On the road, just between the best ones, it seemed like a good discussion to have. But here in front of Jesus, it sounded a little egotistical. It sounded a little silly.

Before we look at how wrong the disciples got things, let’s take a look at what they got right. They got it right to follow Jesus in the first place. They could have been one of the nameless crowd who would come out to hear an inspiring message and then go home and live the same ole way; they could have been one of the Pharisees or lawyers with their laws and their rules who came to debate Jesus, to try to trip him up, score some points.
But the disciples were not the crowds or the Pharisees. The disciples were different. When Jesus called, they followed.

Naturalist Edward O. Wilson has criticized Christians for a religion that posits “the torment of the damned for trillions and trillions of years. . .all for a mistake they made in choice of religion.” Wilson makes the mistake that, let’s admit, many professing Christians make – that is, that our eternal destinies rest upon the precarious foundation of a knife’s edge called religion – one wrong belief, one sin too many, and you will fall and not get up again.

Disciples know better, not because they are smarter but because they’ve fallen so many times and a hand has always been extended to them to help them up. More often than not, they’ve found that hand belonged to the Master. Disciples make mistakes. Disciples don’t know all the answers. (That’s why they’re always asking questions.) They just know that in the Master there is one who is worth following, one worth giving their lives to.

So let’s give credit to the disciples for this much - they know Messiah when they bump up against him. Secondly, the disciples get credit for somehow sticking to each other. And there were moments, like every day, when that enterprise seemed unlikely to last. Peter was a loudmouth. James was a know-it-all. Judas just didn’t look right, ya know? Andrew probably had b.o. (Well, they all probably did by our standards) and John, him of Beloved Disciple fame, well, he was just so smug! They had trouble getting along at times. They got into arguments. But let’s give them credit – they really lived together. They were honest and they stuck together, warts and all.

I’m missing from friends, the Caulders. Last week was special for me. It wasn’t just having old friends visit and remembering old times. Shelley and Amy are the kind of friends that you pick up with right where you left off, even if that leaving happened years ago. Shelley has described our friendship as one of “full disclosure,” meaning there are not many subjects, especially personal ones that are off-limits, that we won’t talk about. I give him credit for that. They have been amazingly honest with me and that has often given me the freedom to be honest with them as well. The Apostle James calls this, “Confessing your sins one to another.”

But this kind of friendship and spiritual transparency doesn’t just happen. The other day Shelley was fixing one of his kids bikes and while he was doing that we were talking about some stuff and I presented to him a challenge I was facing. He stopped with the bike, looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said, “As soon as I fix this bike I’ll fix your problem.” We both laughed because most problems are not as easy to fix, or quick to fix as a bike. But many times we don’t benefit from the wisdom and friendship of other Christians because we’re not willing to hang around long enough to talk about things “on the way.”

It’s like what this guy said who came to look at my birch trees. He said, “One thing you can do to prevent major limbs from breaking off is cabling the trees together. You put a couple bolts into them and connect the bolts with cable. You can connect trees to each other by cabling them together. Then, when the storms come they will sway together but won’t break.”

Many of us are breaking on our own because we won’t do what it takes to cable together and learn to sway.

Being a disciple with other disciples takes time. It’s a way of life really. As I’ve said, these disciples had problems just like you and me. They were always jockeying for position among themselves, just like you and me. What Jesus told them was you are defining greatness the wrong way, you are measuring greatness in the wrong direction. Think low. Think small. Think a child. If you do this then maybe you won’t be so preoccupied with power and comfort and success, with who is right. “Perhaps the better question is who is living rightly?” says Rob Bell. Maybe you learn to care for the poor and the widow and the unbeliever. Maybe you’ll even care about each other like I God cares

Knowing who God is comes by knowing Jesus. And knowing Jesus happens when faith is given room and food and exercise to grow in the company of others who are pointing their lives in the same direction. We change. We transform. But it’s a choice that we make and continue to make daily. It doesn’t just happen cause we go to church or believe in God. We don’t drift into transformation. We choose to grow. We choose the way of the Cross. We choose to follow. That’s what a disciple does.

A young woman wanted to go to college. Her heart sank as she read the question on the application that asked, “Are you a leader?”

Being both honest and conscientious, she wrote, “No,” and returned the application, expecting the worst.

To her surprise, she received this letter from the college: “Dear Applicant: A study of the application forms reveals that this year our college will have 1,452 new leaders. We are accepting you because we feel it is imperative that all these new leaders have at least one follower.”

Jesus is looking for followers today. Will you follow?