Author: Jim Cantelon

Key Verse: Luke 22:29 “I bestow upon you a kingdom, just as My Father bestowed one upon Me.”

Here’s a passage of scripture that has been remarkably silent over the years. At least in sermons, that is. We have probably heard a few sermons on Jesus sending out the disciples without “purse, bag or sandals”–the point of our dependency on God was well made in all of them. In fact, the party line has been that if God calls you and sends you out, you can rely totally on Him and have no need of money, extra clothing, or a second pair of Adidas. And the stock response from the faithful, as this principle is preached, is, “Amen!”

But wait a minute! After the disciples affirm that they had no need the first time they were out there ministering without material resources, Jesus now tells them the rules have changed. “But now” He says, “if you have a purse, take it, and also a bag; and if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one.” (v.36 NIV). Jesus is telling His disciples to buy a sword, and to sell their overcoat to get one? You mean defending yourself against an attack is more important in Jesus’ eyes than defending yourself against the elements, and you need money and a suitcase as well? Where did you say that reference was again?

What’s going on here? The real world, that’s what. Jesus had already taught His disciples the lesson of complete submission to His will and total dependence upon His provision. Now, He was stressing the complementary role we can play in our ministries by good planning and responsible management. Wha’t more, He was showing us that, as far as our physical safety is concerned, there are some “executive responsibilities” we have in assisting our Heavenly Father and His ministering angels in this business of staying alive. Jesus wants us to be childlike–not childish.

Key Verse: Luke 21:4 “all these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty…”

The question occurring to me as I read this story is, “what would Jesus think or say about some modern ministries that unscrupulously bilk widows of their life savings?” We have no record of what Jesus said or did about this poor widow who put all she had to live on in the temple treasury. All we read is that Jesus saw her do it and was impressed.

What do you suppose motivated her? It was probably the first time she had done this; and probably the last. How often can you give all you have to live on before the well is completely dry, and you die? Maybe she had a great need and felt that her eager gift was a part of expressing her deepest sincerity in petitioning God for help. Maybe she felt especially guilty about some secret sin. Or perhaps she was in such desperate straits that giving all she had was an act of frustration, anger, and acquiescence–a kind of financial suicide. Maybe she thought this might force God to intervene. Then again, may be she gave out of total gratitude for some special answer to prayer. Who knows? But the point Jesus made was that she gave out of her poverty: her gift was costly.

Contrast this to the carefully measured gifts of the wealthy. Many of them, no doubt, were meticulous in their commitment to tithing–every month the first donation was a tithe to the temple. They perhaps even preached the importance of giving first to God before any other bill was paid, and I doubt the Lord would fault them for this. In fact, Jesus said nothing overtly negative about their donations. What He did say, however, related to the relative value of the gifts–not as men saw it, but as God saw it.

The gift of the wealthy was simply that –a gift. The gift of the widow was something else–it was a sacrifice–and sacrificial giving then, as now, was pretty much out of style.

Key Verse: Luke 19:44 “…you did not know the time of your visitation.”

If you have read even a bit of the Bible, you’re sure to have noticed the awfully serious view it takes of decision-making: especially those decisions about our relationship with God. When we’re vague, or try to postpone, if not water down, the demand of the relationship, He is clear-cut and downright inflexible. We want qualifiers, maybe’s, and wait-and-see’s. He wants either/or. He will work for a while at winning us, but warns that His Spirit will not always wrestle with us. If we put the decision off He’ll eventually stop trying to convince us, and the results, He warns, will be disastrous.

A case in point is Jesus weeping over Jerusalem. The city personifies the nation of Israel, Jesus’ own and God the Father’s chosen people. Not that, even in the context of a heart-rending compassion, Jesus is gratingly blunt in His pronouncement of doom: “The days will come upon you when your enemies will build and embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. They will dash you to the ground, you and the children within your walls. They will not leave one stone ono another…” (vss. 43,44). This is pretty hard stuff; it almost seems that Jesus is foreseeing genocide here.

What makes it even more difficult is the seemingly schizophrenic nature of God in this passage. On the one hand, He loves His people with an everlasting love, on the other He pronounces judgment and appears to be prepared to sit back and let it happen. And this is all because His chosen ones “did not recognize the time of God’s coming” to them.

The lesson? God is love and God is just, and won’t extend His love forever, any more than He will postpone His judgment forever. It’s scary, but true — when God speaks, we’d better listen.

Key Verse: Luke 18:13 “…God be merciful to me a sinner!”

The Bible doesn’t always make an editorial comment about Jesus’ parables, but Luke does so in this instance. The famous parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector is told to “some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everybody else” (18:9 NIV). Of course, the temptation to us as we read, is to look down on the Pharisee. Human nature, as irrepressible as it is, will always manage to condescend somehow.

This parable is a classic. On one side you have a self-satisfied religious type. On the other side is a self-disgusted con artist. One enters confidently, arrogantly, even into the temple–it is familiar and much loved territory. The other entire fearfully, regretfully, and awkwardly–the temple is foreign territory. The one saunters, the other grovels. And to the surprise of the listener, Jesus says God responds to the man with the dirty face, and rejects Mr. Clean. This doesn’t seem fair, does it?

To appreciate the shock value of this parable, think of it in these terms: the Pharisee is you and the tax collector is a convicted rapist. You’ve never knowingly hurt anybody in your life. You’ve attended church faithfully, paid your tithes, and helped the poor. You are always ready to testify to your faith and intend to obey God and serve Him all your life. And, in all honesty, as you see it, God owes you something, for you’ve kept your part of the bargain.

On the other hand, the rapist has been nothing but trouble all his life. He was kicked around at home, so he lashed out at school. Abused by society, he paid it back with ever-increasingly abusive behavior. Finally, he went on a rampage, beating, stealing and raping. Now, as he enters the prison chapel, he throws himself on the floor in anguish, while you, on your monthly prison visitation, take a moment for prayer before the chapel service.

And guess what? God ignores you and honours him! He disregards. your self-satisfied conversation and embraces his self-condemnation. What gives?

Simply this. That man recognizes his spiritual poverty and you don’t. He cries for mercy, even as you casually converse. His feet are slipping into the pit; yours are merely slippered. He is in anguish; you are content.

Never forget Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Mt. 5:3). Regardless of how wholeheartedly we’ve embraced Christ, it is only because He’s embraced us first that we have any right to stand in His presence. And when He first embraced us, we were detestably filthy; as filthy as a rapist.

Key Verse: Luke 16:31 “If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rise from the dead.”

It’s amazing but true: there still are “Christians” who have a distinct prejudice against (if not and out-and-out hatred for) Jews. Three or four time s a year, I receive mail from these anti- Semites. Usually their letters are more like tomes–overstuffed manila envelopes with articles, essays, facts and figures, all designed and tailored to make me believe there is a Jewish conspiracy to take over the world. It is hateful and disgusting. What’s more, it’s sinful.

Jesus was a Jew, and I love Him; I also love His people. That’s one reason why my family and I gave seven years of our lives to living and working in Israel. I also have the highest respect for the disciples and the apostle Paul (all Jews) — so much so, that I follow their teaching g and base my life on their interpretation of the words of Jesus. On top of that (or should I say, “foundation to that”), is my high view of Moses and the prophets. The “Old” Testament, as we call it, is the very root system of my Christian faith. Take the Old Testament away from me and you’ve uprooted me–focus only on the New Testament and you may appear alive for awhile, just like your Christmas tree appears to believing for a week or so in your house at Christmastime, but eventually my branches will turn brown.

In Luke 16, Jesus tells the story of the rich man and Lazarus. He quotes Abraham as saying that if “Moses and the prophets” can’t convince a person of the reality of Heaven and Hell, then the resurrection won’t do it either. Jesus’ live and ministry was a fulfillment of the Old Testament. You can try to take Jesus out of the Old Testament–but you cannot take the Old Testament out of Jesus. Like love and marriage, they are inseparable. But don’t call it a “mixed” marriage. Sure, the Old Testament is Jewish , but so is the New!

Key Verse: Luke 14:33 “…whoever of you does not forsake all he has cannot be Me disciple.”

I don’t like those words in the key verse. Nor do I like these words: “If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters — yes, even his own life — he cannot be My disciple. And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow Me cannot be My disciple” (vs. 26,27 NIV). I dislike them, not just because they offend my values, but also because they seem out of character with Jesus, if taken at face value.

I say “out of character” for a number of reasons. First of all, Jesus had a high view of scripture, which included a high view of the ten commandments — one of which says, “Honour your father and mother…” Secondly, He had a high view of children — “suffer the little children to come unto Me…” Jesus respected the word of His Father which commands us to “train up a child in the way he should go…” — so how do you do this if you have deserted the child?

Obviously, Jesus was doing there what He often did as was the custom of a good semitic teacher: He used exaggeration for the sake of emphasis. He shocked people into seeing the point. The point here was simply that Jesus expects His disciples to put God and His kingdom first (“seek first the kingdom of heaven, and its righteousness…”), and personal concerns second (“…and all these things will be added unto you” –Matt.6:33).

He’s a lover of our souls, but He’s a jealous lover. Don’t cross Him.

Key Verse: Luke 12:1b “Beware of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy.”

Nobody likes a hypocrite. There’s something instinctive about this distaste — rather like our dislike for foul odours, snakes, and dishonest salesmen. We prefer people to be who they say they are. Regardless of the masks we ourselves may wear, we want the other guy to be transparent. We like an honest face. Indeed, one of the highest compliments we can pay a person is to recite the old adage of him, “what you see is what you get.”

It’s no secret Jesus gave the Pharisees a hard time; just like He would do to you and me. The Pharisees weren’t any more enamoured of hypocrites than we are. And they’d be the last to admit any personal hypocrisy. Like us, they were concerned about God’s word, about pleasing Him, attending weekly (in some case, daily) services of worship and raising their children in the faith — in most areas of their lives they were just like present day North American conservative evangelical Christians — Orthodox in faith, moderate in practise. They were good guys.

That’s why it stung when Jesus accused them of being inwardly filthy when they were so outwardly pure (11:39); or of neglecting justice and the love of God (11:42); or of being spiritually proud and self-serving (11:43).

But there was one accusation Jesus made which speaks volumes to me: “You load people down with burdens they can hardly carry” (11:46 NIV). This hits me because I’m a preacher, as well as a broadcaster and author. I have often moralized in my preaching, punctuating my sermons with idealisms, shoulds, coulds and black/white value judgements. I have laid guilt on people, crushing them with the burden of my view of righteousness. Little wonder there’s been a significant fall-out rate over the years: being a human has a way of winning over being an angel.

It’s taken me a few years, but now I try to point people to Jesus rather than standards. Not that standards are all bad, but when Jesus is magnified and glorified, moral standards seem to follow naturally.

I suppose it boils down to religion versus relationship.

Key Verse: Luke 11:9 “And I say to you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.”

Have you ever thought of prayer as a process? Usually we think of it only in terms of verbalizing: articulating a need. But if you look carefully at Jesus’ teaching on prayer in this chapter, you begin to see prayer as far more than just talking to God.

As Jesus presents it, prayer is using your mouth, your head, and your hands. You ask. You seek. You knock. Let’s look at it.

We usually don’t ask for something we already have, so when we ask for something, we’re defining a need. Or, to put it another way, we’re defining a goal. Seeking means actively looking here, there, and everywhere, in order to find something. That is, we’re pursuing the options. And to do that we need to make some sort of plan. Knocking, on the other hand, is something you do when the options have been narrowed to a few key doors. There is a note of expectancy as you knock — an opportunity lies on the other side. So we knock. We work the plan.

Define the goal, make a plan, work the plan. Sounds like something from a business seminar. But the point is this: prayer is essentially active. It’s not passive at all. Perhaps this is why our prayers are sometimes not answered — they’re not finished. We’re to ask, seek, and knock (all active verbs). After that, we’re to receive, find, and enter. Don’t sit back when you pray — go for it!

Key Verse: Luke 10:20 “…do not rejoice…that the spirits are subject to you, but rather rejoice because your names are written in heaven.”

In the last chapter, we read of Jesus sending out the twelve disciples “to preach the kingdom of God and to heal the sick” (9:2). In this chapter, He sends out seventy more. It’s in this context that Jesus says the famous words, “the harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into His harvest field” (v.2)

So the seventy rookies went out, and came back, a few days later, with a glowing report. “Lord, even the demons submit to us in Your name,” they exulted. “We have power! Authority! We’re special!” Or so they thought.

And so they were. No doubt Jesus was pleased to hear it had gone so well. He had hand-picked these special people. they had gone out to preach, heal, and deliver — and they had succeeded. They tried to follow Jesus’ example — and they did, with one glaring exception: they had become overly impressed with their spiritual power, especially as it related to their ability to rout demonic spirits. Spiritual pride was beginning to raise its ugly head.

Jesus put things in perspective. “It’s no big deal about the demons,” He said, in effect. “That’s no reason to rejoice. Rather rejoice that your names are recorded in heaven.” As great as a miracle of deliverance or healing may be, it’s small bananas compared to the greatest miracle of all — passing from death into life. Salvation is a miracle number one; beside it the other miracles pale in significance.

God isn’t impressed with a panoply of miracles and a plethora of miracle workers. Unlike humans, He’s not moved by the outward show of things (after all, there are false miracles and false prophets who, on the outside, are very impressive). He is impressed with those He calls His children. He likes dependents, not co-deities.

Key Verse: Luke 9:58 “…Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”

Read the last part of this chapter, and you get the distinct impression that Jesus didn’t have the foggiest idea, when it came to public relations. Before you get defensive (as if Jesus needs defenders!), think about it for a moment.

Suppose you had the greatest message the world has ever heard, but it wasn’t going all that well with the ratings. People were ignoring you at best, and persecuting you at worst. You’ve just had a bad day in Samaria when, along comes a bright-eyed idealist who just loves you and wants to follow you “wherever you go” (v.57). So what do you do? You sign him up! You give him your “now that I believe” follow-up manual, get his full name and address, put him on your mailing list, and make sure the nurture-group leader in his area gets him to the next house meeting. You pray with him and tell him he’s made a wise decision.

What you don’t do is highlight your personal poverty and imply in no uncertain terms that if he follows you he’ll be a pauper, too. Nor do you turn to other would-be followers and tell them that it’s either you or their bereaved families — “You go to that funeral and you can forget following me. You say goodbye to your family, and I say goodbye to you.” Was Jesus insensitive here or what?

It appears He was. But then appearances can be misleading. There is another cliché, “what you see isn’t always what you get”. It could very well be that at this point in Jesus’ ministry He was, in His eyes, becoming too “popular”. More and more wanted to follow Him, but they were doing so for the wrong reasons. Jesus had to do some sifting of wheat from chaff. And I suspect Jesus’ words to these idealists were meant not just for them but for the scores of would-be disciples who were within ear-shot.

Jesus wanted it to be known that there was a cost in following Him. He demanded singleness of purpose and maturity. He wanted people with an eye to the heavenly kingdom, feet on the ground, and back bent in doing good.

Grace isn’t cheap