But I digress. I was standing in line at a sandwich shop, waiting with other wearied travelers for a regrettably spongy-tasting, overpriced turkey club. I was fascinated by the man in front of me. Sporting a close-cropped beard with classy, slightly ruffled hair and stylish Oakley sunglasses perched on his head. He wore a blue longsleeve shirt that was obviously worn but somehow didn’t look ragged. His jeans looked both comfortable and fashionable. He had an OD green nylon daypack slung over both shoulders, the kind you might find at a military surplus store, with a grey hoodie strapped to the back. He work these great looking, brown leather shoes that seemed like a mix between sneaker and light hiker. I made a mental note to look those shoes up, since I am looking for a new pair of casual shoes. The whole ensemble made him look like he was in the middle of a great adventure, traveling light, living life to the limit. He seemed to be the kind of guy who had all kinds of great stories involving high jinx with good friends in far-off locales like Argentina and central Aisa.

Sitting next to me at the gate was an older man with a goatee and a faded ballcap from some sportsman’s associations. He wore Keen river sandals and well-worn shorts with a neat looking polo. His luggage consisted of a backpack that looked experienced and decidedly non-brandname with a Pelican laptop case. I noticed that the Pelican case was quite dusty. His gear looked grizzled and used and he looked experienced and world-wise. He reminded me of this man I worked with in Henry County, GA, a well-traveled public safety commissioner who regaled us with stories of working in Iraq after the invasion in 2002. A whole country was needing rebuilt, and police forces were essential. This man got tapped by the US Ambassador to lead a team of grizzled police veterans in training the new police forces. He had a similar level of coolness, of a relaxed demeanor combined with an intense awareness.

Walking through the airport, I realized that I was making all kinds of assumptions about what other people were doing, who they were, what their stories were. I tried to fit them into my stereotypes, into the characters I was used to. A woman, struggling to meet her husband’s expectations. A man, resigned to life on the road, wondering where his real life went. A shoeshiner, somehow loving life just as it was. I wondered, what did my life look like to them? What does it look like to me?

When I think about it, I do have some pretty neat things in my story. I work as a paramedic, a job that I think is way awesome when I stop and think about it. When actually working, I absolutely love it. I do a lot of pretty cool things. I live on a 2200 acre outdoor paradise, where I canoe on a regular basis and hike all the time. I work with awesome people at a flawed ministry that I believe in, down deep, on projects that I seriously enjoy—photography and graphic arts and web design and making visions realities. So why am I so dissatisfied with my life?

I looked at the man with the military-style backpack at the sandwich shop and thought about how much I’d like to be living his life. I made up this whole story to myself about what his life must be like and wanted my life to resemble it. Some of that I can’t do anything about, like having a beard (which is actually a big no-no in my profession) or being taller. Some of it is really about lifestyle choices—I liked how minimal his luggage was, and while I have real minimalistic instincts, I can’t seem to get past my unhealthy attachment to stuff. I often try to rationalize buying new stuff to reduce the stuff I have, but rarely does this work out. Usually buying more stuff simply means that I have more stuff.

My biggest problem is not a desire to live in a better story, but my desire to author it. I’ve come to the realization that I am already in a story—a much bigger story than I could dream up. I read last week that the Bible really focuses on answering big questions, such as what is really important in life. As I’ve studied the Word these past few months, I have come away impressed that life is way bigger than my myopic little American dream. Life is bigger than being a wandering adventurer. Life is bigger than training police forces in Iraq and Afghanistan. Life is bigger than all of these, and the challenge for us is to escape our small stories and embrace the big story of what God is doing.

“Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” (Mark 10:15 ESV)

“And Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, ‘How difficult it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!’”(Mark 10:23 ESV)

I never saw the connection before today. When I am rich, how do I solve my problems? I whip out my Visa, I draw from my stored up supplies, I pull cash from my wallet. If I am hungry, I have food in the fridge. If I need to go somewhere, I have a car.

But how does a child solve problems? A child doesn’t have a Visa, or stockpiled resources, or cash. A child has a father, and asks his father.

So which am I? Self-sufficient, independent, and limited to my own abilities? Or dependent on my Father’s infinite resources?

“And I tell you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11:9-13 ESV)

“It is vitally important that each of us discovers his own pathway to deep intimacy with the Lord Jesus Christ. For some, the way is music.…I try to use a combination of things, such as prayer walks, personal retreats, a daily devotional time, worshipful music, genuine community, or accountability with close and honest friends.”¹

Music (apart from lyrics) establishes an emotional atmosphere or mood, and this sets up the lyrics to communicate a message. A particular song can push us towards intimacy with God, or towards a competing affection.²

The connection I made is that while I may choose to listen to a wide variety of music, if I am serious about cultivating a deeper relationship with God, I will choose to pursue music that pushes me in that direction. If I am serious about pursuing better health, than I’m going to choose snacks like trail mix or chopped veggies, not Snickers bars and Fritos. If I am serious about getting to know a friend on a deeper level, then I will choose conversation with him, not go to a movie. So, if I want to be more intimate with God, then I should set myself up for that with the music I listen to. Is the other music, music that doesn’t lead me towards God, wrong? I don’t think so. Is it beneficial? Not really. And, it may even be dangerous, leading me towards the lies of riches and desires for other things that choke the Word of God in my life (³ ).

1. pg. 32. Kraft, Dave. Leaders Who Last (Re: Lit Books). Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2010.
2. Note that music doesn’t create that intimacy; its our responsibility to do so. But it can create an environment conducive to it, just as a walk in the woods or a great book or a good sermon can.
3. but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches and the desires for other things enter in and choke the word, and it proves unfruitful. ( ESV)

“The main problem here is not Christ followers taking too much risk. The problem is that we are not taking enough risk. We’re getting theologically fat and spiritually bored with our safer versions of sunshine-pumping Christianity. Even well-meaning Christian books that encourage us to take more risk are written by well-paid people who seemingly take very little life-threatening risk themselves. “Hear this: It was always supposed to be dangerous. The stakes are high, and many people around the world are in great jeopardy, severely marginalized and in extreme poverty. To state the obvious, people are dying. They need help, and it’s the Good News delivered by the crazy risk-takers who bring it. It’s people like the Korean Christians and countless others who carry it through at great cost.”

Read the rest here.

—Laura Clawson, on Twitter

Mark 2:21–22 is a confusing set of verses. Jesus is answering a question about fasting, then goes off in a seemingly unrelated tangent:

No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment. If he does, the patch tears away from it, the new from the old, and a worse tear is made. And no one puts new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the wine will burst the skins—and the wine is destroyed, and so are the skins. But new wine is for fresh wineskins.”

(Mark 2:21-22 ESV)

“No one sews a piece of unshrunk cloth on an old garment. If he does, the patch tears away from it, the new from the old, and a worse tear is made. And no one puts new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the wine will burst the skins—and the wine is destroyed, and so are the skins. But new wine is for fresh wineskins.”

The context explains and clarifies Jesus’ cryptic statement. In the immediately prior section¹, Mark introduces the conflict between the Pharisees and Jesus. In first-century Judea, the Pharisees were the religious and cultural leaders. Balancing the demands of the Roman empire and of the Mosaic code, they were both rigidly legalistic and politically savvy. Jesus’ ministry and teachings threatened to upset their entire system. Mark’s introduction to this conflict is the Pharisaical response to Jesus’ ministry: they took issue with his associations with sinners and outcasts.

(more after the jump)

Jesus’ answer to queries about fasting illuminates much of the framework in which to view his ongoing conflict with the Pharisees. Jesus implies that his teaching about “the Kingdom” is not merely a new patch to cover up holes or problems in the existing fabric of Jewish religion. Rather, it is an entirely new thing that cannot fit into the existing frameworks and religious culture.

At first glance, this seems to conflict with Jesus’ assertion as recorded by Matthew: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.”² If Jesus did not intend to abolish the Law, then why does he claim here in Mark that the Kingdom is “new wine” that won’t fit into the old skins?

Mark relates two separate incidents that help to explain this conundrum.

First, on a Sabbath, the disciples snacked on grain as they went through a field.³ This behavior is actually permitted under Mosaic law, but the Pharisees prohibited it out of a well-meaning concern that they might accidentally work on the Sabbath, thus violating law. Jesus responds in defense of his disciples’ actions, citing David and Abiathar as an example. Jesus’ response indicates that the demands for mercy in the Law supercede both human traditions and certain ceremonial aspects of the Law itself.

Mark’s second illustration comes from another Sabbath day event, in which Jesus healed a man on the Sabbath⁴. The Pharisees reacted, predictably, because they considered healing to be work. Jesus asks a pointed question to illustrate his point: “Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do harm, to save life or to kill?” The answer, of course, is to do good. To show mercy. This is, without a doubt, emphasized throughout the Law and the Old Testament. Nonetheless, his answer wasn’t good enough for the Pharisees. It blew apart their carefully constructed religious traditions and threatened their way of life.

Jesus’ destruction of their religion was why they sought to destroy him.

When viewed in the context of these incidents, Mark 2:21–22 makes more sense. The Kingdom was a new thing. It was the fulfillment of the Old Testament prophets and law, the inevitable conclusion to God’s story of redemption to this point. And while the Kingdom perfectly fulfills the Law and Prophets, it did not fit in the context or framework of first-century Jewish practice. It was not a patch, to cover up shortcomings of an existing system. And trying to fit the Kingdom into the existing religion⁵ would only result in the destruction of both.

A couple practical applications seem to jump out to me. First, this passage does seem to take issue with human systems and frameworks that go beyond God’s law. In each of the three events, the Pharisees got into trouble because the elevated their own guidelines above the bigger picture of doing good and loving mercy.  Their guidelines were well-intended, at first: They wanted to keep people from accidentally violating God’s law, so they erected stricter laws around them. Unfortunately, many in the conservative American church do the same thing. I fear that in so doing, they commit the same error the Pharisees did and would come under the same censure from Christ.

Beyond that issue, though, is a greater lesson to be learned. This passage contains a strong caution to those, in certain circles, who idealize the first century Church and Jewish culture. Without a doubt, understanding that time and culture is important to properly interpreting Scripture. However, we should approach any emulation of that culture with the utmost care. First century Judaism was a human religion, one with a good foundation, but many not-so-good additions. Jesus censured it and warned that the Kingdom would not fit in it. While we should appreciate the roots of Christianity in that culture and religion, we must also be careful not to romanticize it and replace the Kingdom, as taught throughout our Scriptures, with a man-made framework.

1. Mark 2:13–17
2. Matthew 5:17–20
3. Mark 2:23–28
4. Mark 3:1–6
5. I use religion, here, to designate the entire system of traditions, culture, and law built by human hands around God’s revelation.

Lately the lessons seem to be focusing on forgiveness and patience. I’m struggling, honestly, with several emotional wounds. Some people very close to me, people I trusted, betrayed that trust and left me hurting. It is easy to slip into bitterness over it, and some days, I’ll start thinking about those hurts and get so angry I want to explode. But then I begin thinking about Christ—and how Christ endured far worse hurt and betrayal and suffering. The comparison is helpful. My petty wounds pale in comparison to how my actions, my sin hurt Christ. And seeing the magnitude of God’s forgiveness to me pushes me to forgive the smaller, most likely unintentional mistakes of others.

What motivated Christ to walk through that pain? The author of Hebrews writes that it was “for the joy that was set before him.”¹ I believe this provides part of the answer for me, as I work to forgive. Forgiving someone hurts. I have to accept the pain, to say, “I am willing to take this pain without recompense. I’m willing to let you off the hook for hurting me.” But it becomes easier for me with the right motivation: The joy that comes from winning a brother², the joy that comes from relationship with God³, and the joy that comes from living in harmony⁴. It is easier to overcome those wounds if I focus on the why, the end result.

Patience is a hard for me. I don’t like waiting, and I don’t like being out of control. Right now, God has me waiting in several areas of life for several things. I dislike it. It is hard. But I’m learning patience. I’m learning to rely on God, again, to work things out. So much of my Christian journey has been about these first principles: Trust in the Lord. Do good. Dwell in the land. Befriend faithfulness.⁵ So I’m back to trusting the Lord. The last major go-around here focused on trusting God for provision when my car’s engine blew. Now, its about trusting God’s sovereignty in working things out that are beyond my control. Its about trusting God’s wisdom; that he works all things together for good. Its about trusting Him to provide for me as I follow His call on my life.

I’ve said this many times, but it bears repeating. Trust is faith in action. I picture rappelling. I can have faith in that rope, faith in the system, faith in the anchor. I can believe that it is strong enough to hold me. I can’t see the strength, but I can have faith in it. But I’m not trusting on it until I’m over the side of the cliff and actually hanging on that line. I can inch up to that edge, hang on with my hands, but that’s not trusting. Trusting is letting go and relying, 100%, on God to live up to His words. Its scary. Its seems risky. It certainly isn’t normal.

But who wants to be normal? Jesus pictures the Christian, in his Sermon on the Mount, as a thoroughly abnormal person. Matthew 6 paints the picture of someone who eschews the “normal” way of focusing on food, and shelter, and clothing, and instead embraces a radical pursuit of God’s Kingdom. He promises that if I make God’s work my first priority, all of those other needs will be taken care of.

I can have faith in this basic concept, but I’m not really trusting God until I take that step off the edge and actually live it. And that is another place God is working me on right now. I believe God has called me to be a pastor, but that is a scary thought. Its a profession where, unfortunately, the average income in America is $24,000 a year. That’s significantly less than I’m making right now, and I can’t imagine supporting a family on that.

The good news is: I don’t have to. If I really believe Christ’s words, and then build my life first on pursuing His work, He will support me and my family. To actually step out on that takes faith, and takes trust.

My life’s journey has really been about God proving his trustworthiness over and over again.

1. Hebrews 12:2
2. Matthew 18:15
3. Matthew 5:14-16
4. Colossians 3:12-13
5. Psalm 37

“The point of this book is that even though we are sinners, and we have rebelled against a righteous God, yet God loved us and sent His son Jesus to live and die and rise in our place, to take the penalty of our sin on Himself and pay it, to take the wrath of God in His own body and exhaust it, and now He calls us to believe in Him and repent of our sins so that we can be saved. And the upshot of that is that once we do that, we are called into Jesus Christ’s Kingdom, and we are called to live the kind of life that will glorify Him and commend this Gospel to the world. That’s the message that I’m building my life on.”

Greg Gilbert on why he wrote the book, What is the Gospel?

Thats My King! on Vimeo on Vimeo

I wonder, do you know him? Not know of Him, but know Him.

1. Put your heart’s deepest trust in God and his grace. Every day remind yourself of his unconditioned, covenantal love for you. Do not instead put your hopes in idols or in your own performance.
2. Submit your whole mind to the Scripture. Don’t think you know better than God’s word. Bring it to bear on every area of life. Become a person under authority.
3. Be humble and teachable toward others. Be forgiving and understanding when you want to be critical of them; be ready to learn from others when they come to be critical of you.
4. Be generous with all your possessions, and passionate about justice. Share your time, talent, and treasure with those who have less.
5. Accept and learn from difficulties and suffering. Through the gospel, recognize them as not punishment, but a way of refining you.

Read the article here: Proverbs: A Mini-Guide to Life – The Gospel Coalition Blog.