Elpis and Shalom

Sometimes I have been hiking or running on the trail and gotten the sinking feeling that I am lost. This feeling is terrible, and to prevent it, we have all sorts of gadgets and electronic maps to tell us where we are and where we need to be, but sometimes there is no reception, and you feel as if there is nowhere to turn. The thoughts begin, and I ask myself, “How did I get lost when I was following the trail?” The answer is usually a momentary lapse in attention, or just plain foolishness. When we realize we are lost, dread and fear of the unknown set in. All we want to do is find our way back home, or at least to our car. However, being lost doesn’t have to be far away; often it happens when we’re close and looking in the wrong direction. Jesus tells a story of two brothers who are both lost, and a father who will stop at nothing to help them find their way back home. Jesus directs this story to two audiences: those who know they have sinned, and those who are self-righteous and are looking for grace in all the wrong places. Society labels them as either good or bad, but one is truly lost and has run away from home, while the other is still lost, just closer to home. These two groups are distinct; however, Jesus reminds them both that they share a common lostness, and the Father has sent the Son so that they might be found.

11 Then Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the wealth that will belong to me.’ So he divided his assets between them. 13 A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant region, and there he squandered his wealth in dissolute living. 14 When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that region, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that region, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16 He would gladly have filled his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, and no one gave him anything. 17 But when he came to his senses he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.” ’ 20 So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. 21 Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’, 22 But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate, 24 for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate. 25 “Now his elder son was in the field, and as he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27 He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf because he has got him back safe and sound.’ 28 Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command, yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your assets with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ 31 Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’ ”

New Revised Standard Version: Updated Edition (Friendship Press, 2021), Lk 15:11–32.

The initial focus rests upon the younger son, because this is the type of rebellion we can more easily point out. We are comfortable calling out obvious sin in others, and in ourselves, this is where we know we have strayed from the trail God has prepared for us. We see in the younger son the need to control life, and in trying to do so, he asks to be dismissed from his father’s home and to take his share of the inheritance. When we want to control our lives, we inevitably give up our connection with the Almighty, because communion becomes too onerous for our ego. We value control more than relationship, just as the younger son shows the father that his desire to do what he wanted was greater than being in the father’s home, and the resources were of greater value than his father’s presence. Through our lives, we set out on the trail with plans to do things a certain way, but when things turn for the worse, if we lack direction or a compass to guide us, or worse, if we purposefully disregard the map God laid out for us, we feel lost. This is why God calls to us to remember who we are in those times. We see the son when his resources have run dry, and he is utterly lost; he is guided to remember that he is still a son, picks up the map, and heads back to his father’s home. He repents. However, he also plans to earn his keep by asking to be a servant. He will soon understand that all the father wanted was for him to turn and come home; so too do we misunderstand repentance: God just wants us to bring our empty hands into the embrace of grace.

Still far off, the son has not completed his steps back into his father’s good graces, but the father initiates grace long before the son reenters the scene. This is an important part of the narrative because Jesus wants us to understand that our Heavenly Father also initiates grace long before we act in contrition, and doesn’t just send directions; he doesn’t just give us a map to find our way, but rather he comes out to find us while we are still lost. While the younger son timidly walks toward his father’s land with some distance left to cover, the father, disregarding all societal norms, quite scandalously races out to greet his son. No one demands restitution; only compassion. He wraps his arms around his son and doesn’t even let him begin pleading for a place as a servant, as he undoubtedly rehearsed on the long road home. There is no shaming or correction; rather, the son is celebrated with a robe, a family ring, and sandals, welcomed fully as a child of the family, not as a servant. In doing this, the father shows us how God reacts to our return. We do not have to earn our place back in God’s covenant of grace. God welcomes us back as a member of the family, because grace is an unconditional gift. Just as we are rescued from the wild when we fall off the trail, there is no bill to pay because we are fully covered by the sacrifice of the Son and the love of the Father.

While many stories are about those far off coming to the Lord, many of us are lost and still inside the church. The elder brother stayed home and didn’t wander off the path, yet he was still lost. After hearing of the return of his brother, and his father’s response, his heart was not moved to join the celebration; instead, he sulked and pouted at the fact that he did everything he was supposed to do, but never received what the brother who insulted the family and walked away was getting at that moment. He expresses his disapproval by telling his father that this is not fair. His devotion to the father, having kept the commands and served, should have earned him some blessing. In doing so, the elder son points out that he, too, committed the same error as the younger, valuing possessions more than communion with the family. However, the father does not rebuke the son; he simply reminds him to celebrate and cherish that the younger brother has come home. We mirror the elder brother’s attitude when we celebrate sinners who come to the Lord more than those who have faithfully attended church for years. We are like those who always stay on the trail and never need rescuing, but realize we missed the glorious scenery and beautiful sunset because we kept our eyes down and stayed on track. In doing so, we don’t know what we missed. When the lost hiker is found and describes the beauty of the mountain, we don’t want to hear it because they “ruined” our experience by getting lost. God loves it when we faithfully serve, but it does not entitle us to extra blessings, nor does it give us license to moan about the celebration for the lost being found. Just like the father of these two sons, God reaches out to us and reminds us not to stay lost outside the celebration, but to embrace being found in the Lord and celebrate.

Being lost is not dependent upon proximity; we can be lost when we are far off, or we can be lost when we are still at home. The beautiful thing about the gospel is that our Heavenly Father never stops reaching out to find us. We are not stuck living the role of the lost hiker, off trail in fear, nor are we stuck as the one waiting at the car frustrated that the hiker had to be saved, because God reaches out to both of us with the same love. The parable is left open-ended, as we do not know whether the elder brother ever joined the celebration, but it is reminding us that we need to rejoice for those who are found. God reminds us to rejoice when our neighbor comes to the table of grace, and to refrain from a bitter spirit that threatens to poison our heart. Whether our heart is rebellious or poisoned by self-righteousness, God comes to us with a blessing that cannot be purchased; we are invited into His house because the divisions between the righteous and the unrighteous are broken down, because we are all lost and need to be found.

Nothing is more likely to make any group of Christians uneasy than discussing money. It isn’t necessarily the money that makes us uncomfortable; it is asking someone to confront their own preconceived notions, which Jesus seeks to disrupt. For many, the dream isn’t to become like the uber-wealthy billionaires we see plastered in our newspapers and on our computer screens; rather, we want to live comfortably, buy a home, provide for our family, and build our retirement accounts so we can retire at a reasonable age. We build our nest egg to accomplish this. Jesus speaks directly to this through his parable in Luke 12, where he tells the story of someone who builds up a nest egg and then desires to rest upon the work done. In this parable, and in the accompanying argument that led Jesus to issue a dire warning to his followers, there is danger in trying to control our own destiny by accumulating wealth. In doing so, we challenge God’s absolute sovereignty. Humanity always creates idols in our hearts; John Calvin looked upon the human heart as a factory for creating idols, and wealth is a powerful one. Ultimately, Jesus calls us to give up the idea that we can be self-reliant and to understand that God is in complete control and that the Almighty fundamentally sustains us through an active love shared with all of creation.

13 Someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” 14 But he said to him, “Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” 15 And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” 16 Then he told them a parable: “The land of a rich man produced abundantly. 17 And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ 18 Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. 19 And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ 20 But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ 21 So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.” 22 He said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. 23 For life is more than food and the body more than clothing. 24 Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! 25 And which of you by worrying can add a single hour to your span of life?, 26 If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? 27 Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 28 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, you of little faith! 29 And do not keep seeking what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. 30 For it is the nations of the world that seek all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. 31 Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well. 32 “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. 33 Sell your possessions and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. 34 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

New Revised Standard Version: Updated Edition (Friendship Press, 2021), Lk 12:13–34.

Our hearts and minds fight against uncertainty at every opportunity. We hate it, and work hard to create environments that are as predictable as possible. The weekend before an election highlights this fact. No matter your political affiliation, your heart flutters at least a little because every election cycle brings a certain amount of uncertainty.  This is probably why our media has clung to polling data and made those who build a narrative from it a key part of election coverage. However, especially lately, that data has proven faulty and created a false sense of certainty. Unfortunately, wealth often leads us to believing we are secure, even though the future is uncertain. Jesus highlights this in the parable, as the man believed that his abundance would allow him some certainty and allow him to fully eat, drink, and be merry. As the abundance came, the rich man sought primarily to serve this wealth as he determined that he needed a bigger barn to hold this so that it would in turn provide him comfort in the future. As such, he views his abundance as his salvation. Unfortunately for the man, his wealth would not serve the desired purpose, because it was on the very night that he contemplated the larger barns that he lost his life. Thus, his entire wealth did nothing to improve or extend his life. Death strips away our wealth; thus, it is foolishness to attach our identity to temporary riches. The only certainty in life is that God is present throughout.

We view our wealth as an antidote to our anxieties. I was always told I needed to go to a good university so I could get a good job, make enough money to buy a house, and provide for my family. This lifestyle should help keep a roof over my head, food in the pantry, and a life free from anxiety, right? It is pure folly to fall into the trap that any of this will keep the worries at bay. To confront that, we must let go of our trust in systems and relinquish our faith in wealth, fully placing our trust in the Almighty. Just as Jesus breaks down the myth of self-reliance for the rich man, He invites the disciples to relinquish their everyday anxiety.  They need not worry about their lives, food, or clothing, as long as they rest firmly in their faith and rely fully on God. This is not a directive to apathy and idleness, but an instruction to praise that leads to blessing. Jesus points out that the world around us, specifically nature, serves as a theological reminder of the Creator’s care for the creation. Birds are not concerned about where the next meal comes from; they do not hoard food or build storage for it; they don’t create the food, but God provides them with all they need. In the same fashion, the flowers don’t save up to buy lavish clothing; they don’t toil or spin, but God makes them even more beautiful than anything found in Solomon’s royal wardrobe. Since God cares so deeply for the parts of creation that are short-lived, how much more care does the Creator have for us, and thus our financial worry is tantamount to a failure to trust God’s care.

Clearly, the ways of the world have led us to trust the creation over the Creator. Unfortunately, wealth leads to anxiety, and the only way to confront it is to radically reorient our lives into granting God our ultimate allegiance. This comes to us as a direct command from Jesus, who directs us to seek God’s kingdom instead and promises to provide all necessary things. The world chases after wealth to provide, and as such cannot be morally neutral because it directs our attention away from serving the Lord. Our hearts and minds must make the call: whether to follow God’s calling in our life, or to build our wealth. We have a moral mandate to use our wealth to serve God’s mission on this Earth, and Jesus urges believers to build up an unfailing heavenly treasure through generosity. When we give to the poor, the hungry, the unhoused, and the needy, we carry out God’s care for creation; but when we focus our wealth on feeding our own comfort and ego, we show that we prioritize self over God. Ultimately, where we put our money and spend our time tell the story of who we are and what we value. Our heart always follows the things that we truly treasure. Therefore, our connection and use of our wealth provides a clear window into what we truly worship.

The problems Jesus points out about wealth are perfectly demonstrated by the number of self-storage facilities in our towns. Whether you are in a big city or a small town, storage facilities are booming. You can’t help but see the parallel to the rich man who wanted to tear down his barn to build a bigger barn, because we accumulate so many possessions that they no longer fit in our homes, forcing us to rent external barns to store the items that overflow from even our garage. We hold onto things that we rarely use, thinking that we might use someday, hoping that this somehow brings us peace. Unfortunately, it more than likely ends with the scenario that prompted the parable in the first place with our progeny determining what happens to the stuff when we die. Our time on the Earth is limited, and Jesus points out to us that the incessant focus on wealth is a foolish endeavor that wastes the precious time that we have with one another. God is calling us to lay down our anxiety and lean upon the Almighty God to give us everything that we need, because no amount of wealth will be able to give us the peace that we get from becoming fully reliant upon God’s mercies everyday.

Getting started is often the hardest step in any endeavor. It doesn’t matter whether it is something lofty, like climbing a gigantic mountain, or something as mundane as putting away our laundry. The first step may seem insurmountable, but if we never take it, then we will never begin. In our churches, we often feel we need to be 100% prepared, and if we aren’t, we ask ourselves whether a lack of certainty and readiness paralyzes us. Without moving toward readiness, we start making excuses: we must first have more money to carry out the work, better education, a fine-tuned program, or the perfect circumstance to be ready to go out and be a faithful witness to the Gospel. We tell ourselves, “We just aren’t ready yet.” In Luke 10, Jesus gathers the seventy-two faithful disciples and tells them it is time to get ready to work. He sends them to towns and places Jesus was going to visit to prepare the way. He gave them no handbook or supplies before they went out; all he said was that the ground is ready, so they needed to get ready to work it. In this area, God is not looking for perfect people acting perfectly; He is only asking for those who are faithful to work for the good of the Gospel, because ultimately God is collecting the harvest that is already His. At every step, God provides for us, as the provision is already arranged. Our calling is to get ready to work.

After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. 2 He said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. 3 Go on your way; I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. 4 Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals, and greet no one on the road. 5 Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’ 6 And if a person of peace is there, your peace will rest on that person, but if not, it will return to you. 7 Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. 8 Whenever you enter a town, and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; 9 cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’

New Revised Standard Version: Updated Edition (Friendship Press, 2021), Lk 10:1–9.

The world is God’s field, and the Lord has seeded and prepared the land, and the harvest is upon us. Our calling to work has a limited scope, as we are called only to harvest the land God has prepared. The workers are not asked to plant or cultivate the fields, nor are they asked to plan which crops go next to one another. The Lord is the Lord of the harvest. God is already working in our neighborhoods, workplaces, and families before we arrive. This is good news for us, since we do not have the burden of beginning the work; rather, we get to participate with God in the harvest. God takes care of the hard part of starting so we can focus on doing the work. Also, we know that we aren’t even responsible for finishing up the work, because we see in this passage that Jesus sent the seventy-two to the towns where Jesus was going. We are appointed as the advance workers for King Jesus. Our primary purpose is to bring the Gospel through God’s comfort and grace. Through grace, peace will follow as Christ Himself shows up. By participating with Jesus in the harvest, we become partners in God’s mission in the community. However, it begins through prayer and asking God to send out workers for His harvest. Thus, work begins through the understanding that fruitfulness comes from God’s Spirit, not our ingenuity. Therefore, we are called to simply show up because the harvest is already present, prepared, and God’s through sovereign electing grace. 

God’s grace carries those ready to work into the fields, not special preparation, training, or tools. Those going into the harvest will be vulnerable to attacks from the enemy and the world. Jesus recognizes this and sends them out knowing they will be like lambs among wolves, because vulnerability is key to effective ministry. Ministry requires vulnerability, not special tools and skills. As God asks the workers to travel light, He also reminds those of us working for the Gospel that we don’t need to carry much because we are supposed to be completely reliant on God. Ultimately, extra weight becomes a crutch we lean on instead of trusting God to carry us through. It’s easy to fill our pockets and hands with a heavy load in the name of being prepared, but when our hands are full of stuff, we can’t receive God’s provision. That provision comes through the very people we are sent to, as the disciples are told to remain in a home, eating and drinking what is provided. The evidence of grace is that even as the Gospel is spread, the very people God sends His servants to become the provision promised. Thus, we do not need an endless stockpile of supplies; we only need a willingness to show up, listen, and share bread with those we meet because God always provides.

When participating in God’s mission, the Church must remember that Jesus was specific in the call and that we aren’t called to do more than the call invites us to do. Too often, our churches get distracted by whatever is happening in the culture at the moment. We chime in on controversies, or do so much to be seen as a body that is constantly status-seeking, and this leads to administrative exhaustion. Jesus calls the workers to bring peace wherever we go, reminding us that we are called to flee anything that pulls people apart and to strive to be a calming agent in a polarized, anxious world. If anything, we should strive to bring reconciliation everywhere we go. Our world has many broken places, and these are precisely where the workers are sent. As we enter these places, the workers are to tend to the sick and the brokenhearted. In these areas, we are supposed to look out for the vulnerable as we visit the lonely and advocate for them. For the peace we bring to these communities will be a louder proclamation of the Good News than any perfect three-point sermon. By doing so, we are a living conduit who brings the Kingdom of God near to the people. We connect every act of mercy to the grand truth of the Gospel, and we proclaim that God’s gracious reign has entered human history through Jesus Christ, the same Jesus who sends us to bring peace to all of the broken communities around us.

We might feel intimidated by the call to work for Christ the way the seventy-two were sent out into the world. This might give us visions of going to a far-away place or learning new customs, but the work starts with taking one step. Think about going on a hike. Some might think of a gigantic undertaking like climbing one of the world’s largest mountains, but plenty of hikes are available right here in our community. This is the same community where God has given us a clear calling to go out and participate in an abundant harvest. To participate, we don’t need a full pack as if we are about to take a trip on the mighty trails across the entire continent; instead, we only need the basics and a willingness to go. God provides for us along the way, and we are called to lean upon only this provision. Therefore, we need to set aside all our excuses about being ill-prepared or not having enough resources to participate. Just like when we go out on the trail to begin our hike, we don’t go assuming we’re trying to win an ultramarathon. When God sends us, we aren’t expected to solve world hunger or bring world peace; instead, we are called to bring peace to the people we are sent to and work to share the Good News with a neighbor, a co-worker, or someone who just needs to know that God loves them. That is the work God calls us to, so we just need to get ready to work.

Our world thrives on the adage, “If you scratch my back, I will scratch yours.” This system of reciprocity has shaped our society for most of its existence. We deal with contracts, quid pro quo, engagement-rewarding algorithms, social networks built on mutual benefit, and relationships negotiated around equal emotional return. Our world moves as if there is no such thing as a free lunch. This bleeds into our faith, where we think that to be a good disciple of Christ, we live as though we must look to the world for respectability, comfort, and modest civic duty. Our version of being “countercultural” is limited to superficial taboos (what media we consume, what parties we skip, what places we avoid). As such, we avoid Christ’s far more unsettling countercultural command. Comfort lulls us into trusting our own resources and reducing love to a transaction. Jesus reveals that true discipleship emerges when comfort is dismantled, driving us to rely entirely upon God and empowering us to love where there is zero guarantee of return. This becomes clear as Christ gets down on the level with his disciples and delivers the Sermon on the Plain.

20 Then he looked up at his disciples and said: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. 21 “Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. “Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. 22 “Blessed are you when people hate you and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. 23 Rejoice on that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven, for that is how their ancestors treated the prophets. 24 “But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. 25 “Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. “Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. 26 “Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.

27 “But I say to you who are listening: Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you; 28 bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat you. 29 If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. 30 Give to everyone who asks of you, and if anyone takes away what is yours, do not ask for it back again. 31 Do to others as you would have them do to you. 32 “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. 33 If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34 If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive payment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. 35 Instead, love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. 36 Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

New Revised Standard Version: Updated Edition (Friendship Press, 2021), Lk 6:20–36.

Christ’s message opens with a call to patience and a warning, much like the prophets before Him, in the proclamation of blessings and woes. A woe is an exclamation of grief, pity, and warning, not, as some might think, a vindictive curse. Through the blessings, Jesus reminds the disciples that times will be hard and that, in those times, we cannot always dictate our circumstances and must rely more completely on the Almighty. In contrast, the woes are Jesus’ diagnosis that abundance insulates us from reality. When our pantries, investment accounts, and reputations are secure, our prayer that asks for “daily bread” becomes nothing more than liturgy, instead of an urgent cry that comes when we are poor. Comfort becomes a breeding ground for spiritual laziness; without urgency, we lose the sense of a grumbling stomach that is desperate for God. In the place of desperation, we misattribute the absence of trouble to the presence of God’s favor. When trouble and need show up, we find we no longer have certainty in what once comforted us. As Jesus calls the poor blessed, he identifies those uniquely positioned to recognize their absolute need for external help. The call is to turn our minds toward heaven, but we often cannot do so until we first realize this world offers us nothing permanent.

The Church’s mission is to become a countercultural force in our world. Jesus points to this by reminding us that grace is not only doing for others what will result in payback or payment of some kind, because Jesus shows us that grace goes against the tide of our cultural waves. Our churches are not meant to be another social club where we spend time only with people who look like us, share our politics, and will always return an invitation.  That is not countercultural witness, because it serves only self-preservation. We do not witness to the grace offered to us in Christ by simply doing all the same things the world does, nor do we do so by proving our worthiness through shallow cultural markers of holiness. We are not rewarded by shielding ourselves from media produced by the culture, because the media of the culture is a mirror held up to reveal the truth about society; thus, to be truly countercultural, we must not act and carry out the Church the way our culture does. After all, discipleship is not measured by sheltering ourselves from secular culture; it is demonstrated by stepping into broken spaces to extend mercy where they cannot return the sentiment.

By letting go of the need for reciprocity, we truly understand that God’s love is often given without any return, and that the Church is called to mimic the Almighty God’s pattern of love. In His command in verse 35, “Instead, love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return,” we are called to remove the idea of personal payback from our minds completely. As the Church, we are expected to give through our finances, our social capital, and our emotional capacity to people and things that will not or cannot give back. This does not come naturally to us and may be hard to imagine; however, we cannot do it by intention alone. Rather, Christ makes it a reality because we have been given grace upon grace, and oftentimes the giver in unilateral love, and we are beneficiaries of His unilateral grace. Through this act, God justified the ungodly through Jesus Christ. Before we ever moved toward holiness, Christ died for us. Therefore, as we approach verse 36, “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful,” we are called to care for our community the way God has cared for us in bringing salvation to the people. We do not complain that the people are ungrateful, nor do we make people “sing for their supper,” as God’s love for us comes as a gift of unmerited grace.

Throughout Jesus’ sermon to the disciples on the Plain, Jesus did not sit on high and point at them in judgment, but rather He walked beside them on their level to show them an example of love that was not reciprocal. Sometimes it can feel comfortable standing at a distance and proclaiming to people about God’s love, but Jesus invites us to get down on our neighbor’s level and show them love that asks nothing in return. With the temptation to sit back in our safe enclave, where comfortable living silences the true urgent and intentional prayer, we must ditch self-reliance and actively trust in God’s providence, and heed the call to love without any thought of reciprocity. When making the decision to sell the church building several years ago, the church looked at its budget and spending and realized that the resources of the church were allocated to servicing the building, which in turn offered a space to keep going at what we had been doing, and nothing toward ministry outside the walls. We had to look and realize we needed to be radically giving in service to the Gospel, and in order to do that we had to start by letting go of the building. So the challenge is this: are our resources primarily allocated to spaces of mutual benefit, or are they flowing toward those who cannot repay you? There exists a challenge for the church and our personal lives to practice love as a one-way street. This means we must forgive someone who has not apologized, serve a person or group that cannot offer social capital or networking opportunities, and bless someone who could be considered an opponent in a time of deep political division and discourse. Jesus came off the mountain to walk with us, so we need to live radically like Jesus and do the same in our community.

Our minds can easily conjure up people that we find absolutely deplorable, whether we think of those who are on the opposite side of us politically, or those who come from places with different customs from ours. Every once in a while, we can unite behind the idea that some people who have committed the most heinous acts are the worst of the worst. We often see those who profit from others’ suffering as traitors to their community. This is exactly how the leaders in the church viewed Levi, and Jesus bypassed them and invited him to be a core leader in his movement. We often believe we must clean ourselves up to be found by God, and we complain when messy people enter the church. However, the gospel tells a different story. Jesus seeks us directly in our sin, and a repentant response leads to a joyous invitation; if we are honest when we look in the mirror, we need the Great Physician as much as the worst offenders and the truly messy folks in our community.

27 After this he went out and saw a tax collector named Levi sitting at the tax-collection station, and he said to him, “Follow me.” 28 And he got up, left everything, and followed him. 29 Then Levi gave a great banquet for him in his house, and there was a large crowd of tax collectors and others reclining at the table with them. 30 The Pharisees and their scribes were complaining to his disciples, saying, “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?” 31 Jesus answered them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician but those who are sick; 32 I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance.”

New Revised Standard Version: Updated Edition (Friendship Press, 2021), Lk 5:27–32.

Looking to the results of Jesus approaching the tax booth in Capernaum. In Luke 5:27, we read: “After this he went out and saw a tax collector named Levi, sitting at the tax booth; and he said to him, ‘Follow me.’” In the first century, tax collectors were the ultimate traitors, as they often used extortion while working for the occupying Roman Empire. They were so reviled that the Jewish leaders made special dispensation for them and allowed the people to hide the truth or outright lie to a tax collector because they were so closely tied to the practice of extortion. When Jesus arrives, Levi is not looking for Him, because he was actively working in a corrupt and sinful system. Jesus calling out to this agent for the Roman government is divine initiative, showing us that God reaches out to us before we ever have the sense to reach out to Him. Jesus is not repulsed by the messy nature caused by the spiritual dirt on Levi’s hands. Most people in Capernaum would avoid him by moving to the other side of the road; counterculturally, Jesus walked directly toward him and engaged the man. Jesus meets us as sinners without waiting for moral purity before issuing the call, completely unintimidated and unshocked by our worst mistakes or addictions.

Jesus’ invitation demands a response, and when we see Levi’s reaction, it reveals the full understanding of his need for repentance: “And he got up, left everything, and followed him. Then Levi gave a great banquet for him in his house; and there was a large crowd of tax collectors and others sitting at the table with them” (Luke 5:28–29). As Levi encounters the true nature of Jesus’ unmerited grace, he is changed instantly. There isn’t a period of scolding or a forced recollection of all his errors, but instead, in Jesus’ presence he is made new. Repentance is not a somber, isolated sitting with guilt to be worked off; instead, it shines through a massive, joyful feast. Levi, affected by grace, wants to hold a banquet so that the others in his life can encounter Jesus and experience change. Jesus, in turn, is not adversely affected by spending time with the messy; there is no need for shame or a shower before entering into fellowship. That’s why so many who have experienced conversion seek to share the experience and the power that changed their life; this same experience prompts Levi to invite his entire network of fellow outcasts. Seeing this reaction, we should remember when we first encountered Jesus. Therefore, as we experience grace, our instinct shouldn’t be to hide in a holy huddle, but to throw the doors open wide.

Unfortunately, much of the religious elite will not embrace this approach to welcoming in the sinner completely. Radical openness inevitably draws criticism from those who claim righteousness for themselves. If they have to live a certain way and do things for several years, then everyone should have to do the same. Instead of letting everything go in the presence of one who removes all shame and all sin, the religious complain about the sinner.  Luke’s account continues: “The Pharisees and their scribes were complaining to his disciples, saying, ‘Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?’ Jesus answered them, ‘Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance’” (Luke 5:30–32). The complaints surface through their pride, which somehow convinces them they are superior to the people at Levi’s table. They view sin as something “those people” do. Still, Jesus’ response reminds them of the importance of repentance. We are all spiritually sick, in need of healing. If we think we are fully immune, the disease of pride has blinded us. In the grand scheme of God’s perfect holiness, we are no better off than the tax collector, and grace alone saves us, as we find no peace with God through our resumes, church attendance, or moral superiority.

To grasp the depth of Levi’s transformation in modern terms, consider Oskar Schindler. He was a member of the Nazi Party, a war profiteer, an opportunist, and a man who utilized the forced labor of Jewish people in his enamelware factory to make himself wealthy. By all accounts, he was an agent within the evil system. However, once the reality of the Holocaust became impossible to ignore, Schindler, even with his faults, eventually spent all of his money in order to bribe SS officers and buy black-market supplies to protect his Jewish workers, ultimately saving 1,200 lives. Schindler was similar to Levi: complicit in an evil empire, yet reached by grace’s transformative power. If God’s grace can reach Levi or Oskar Schindler, it can certainly reach the worst of us today. But to receive it, we must abandon the pride of the Pharisees, look in the mirror, and acknowledge our need for the Great Physician. We may be tempted to focus on others’ evil, but Jesus reminds us that grace leads to repentance. Therefore, we must stop complaining about the sinners in the world and fall back entirely on the amazing grace that saves us all.

14 Then Jesus, in the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding region. 15 He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone. The Rejection of Jesus at Nazareth 16 When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, 17 and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: 18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed, 19 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” 20 And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21 Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” 22 All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, “Is this not Joseph’s son?” 23 He said to them, “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.’ ” 24 And he said, “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in his hometown. 25 But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months and there was a severe famine over all the land, 26 yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. 27 There were also many with a skin disease in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.” 28 When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. 29 They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. 30 But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.

New Revised Standard Version: Updated Edition (Friendship Press, 2021), Lk 4:14–30.

In the mid-twentieth century, people viewed computers strictly as massive, room-sized calculators. The military and scientific establishment saw them merely as computational machines, glorified abacuses used for calculating artillery trajectories and crunching numbers. But Commodore Grace Hopper, a brilliant mathematician and naval officer, saw something far greater. She envisioned a world where computers could help solve complex, real-time human issues. To make that vision a reality, Hopper invented the compiler, a revolutionary piece of software that translated human-readable, English-like instructions into binary machine code. Yet when she presented her breakthrough to the establishment, they flatly rejected her. They insisted computers were built strictly for arithmetic, dismissing her groundbreaking work by claiming she was “solving a problem that didn’t exist.” Their fixed assumptions about what a computer was supposed to do, and perhaps their biases about who was offering the solution, blinded them to a revolution, forcing Hopper to fight for years against institutional stubbornness just to integrate her compiler.

We are often blinded by our own established systems. When something, or someone, arrives to fundamentally disrupt how we operate, our immediate instinct is so often rejection. This dynamic played out vividly in the synagogue at Nazareth. When Jesus stood up to read from the scroll of Isaiah, declaring that he had been anointed to bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, and sight to the blind, he was proclaiming Jubilee. Just as Grace Hopper sought to expand the computer from a mere calculator into a responsive problem-solver, Jesus was expanding the community’s understanding of God’s Kingdom. The Gospel was never intended to be a series of dry spiritual calculations, temple rituals, or self-serving religious math. It was a real-time intervention into human suffering. The congregation initially loved the poetic sound of Jubilee, assuming it meant liberation for them from Roman rule. But because Jesus’ message disrupted their comfortable expectations, they quickly turned hostile.

Much like the military leaders who could not look past their own institutional biases when evaluating Hopper, the people of Nazareth stumbled over familiar pedigree. “Is this not Joseph’s son?” they asked, unable to reconcile their expectations of a glorious, conquering Messiah with a local carpenter who had dirt under his fingernails. We recognize how deeply our own limited scope and sinful nature clouds our perception, leading us to reshape Jesus in our own image, a Savior tailored to our politics, socioeconomic status, and personal comfort. When the Gospel comes packaged in someone who lacks the proper credentials or cultural standing, our natural inclination is to dismiss them entirely.

Rather than backing down, Jesus pressed deeper into the offense of sovereign grace. He reminded his listeners that during times of famine and sickness, God sent the prophets Elijah and Elisha not to Israel’s elite, but to outsiders: a poor widow at Zarephath and Naaman the Syrian. In doing so, he declared that God’s expansive, unmerited grace reaches beyond traditional boundaries to solve the real-time suffering of people we might consider enemies. Where the military establishment responded to Hopper with initial skepticism, the crowd in Nazareth responded to Jesus with outrage. Realizing that salvation was not their exclusive privilege, their pride turned to violence, and they drove him to the edge of a cliff to destroy him.

Ultimately, Grace Hopper had to persevere so her compiler could be integrated to transform modern computing; Jesus went to the cross so his grace could be deeply integrated into our broken lives. We must stay vigilant against the racial, economic, political, and social biases that lead us to reject his message today. We have to ask ourselves whether we are truly willing to accept a Jesus who brings freedom to those we might prefer to keep at a distance. Instead of clinging to our conditions for God’s grace or reacting like the crowd in Nazareth, may we cultivate the humility to listen, accept his disruptive proclamation, and join him in setting the oppressed free.

Living in the desert makes you familiar with the tumbleweeds, succulents, and wildlife, and helps you understand that what something looks like on the outside may not accurately be predictive of what lies beneath. One who has spent any significant time in the desert or even on the hilly trails knows that what might look like a dead branch or stick on the dirt road might just end up being a snake. As the heat begins to bring its fury upon the desert floor, we see the fires fueled by the dead brush and dry landscape. This prompts the creatures nested in the brush to emerge from their smoky hovels and try to understand what is happening. Meanwhile, on the banks of the Jordan, John stands addressing the crowds arriving from the comfort of Jerusalem, relying on the name given to them by their ancestors. However, John addresses them with disdain: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath?” This serves as a reminder to the people that a snake fleeing fire is still a snake, and just wearing a particular name and saying you belong to Abraham is not enough, because proximity to religion is not life in the Spirit. Therefore, any journey to begin following Jesus cannot start with flashing credentials or spiritual posturing; it must begin at the root, with genuine repentance.

7 John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? 8 Therefore, bear fruits worthy of repentance, and do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.” 10 And the crowds asked him, “What, then, should we do?” 11 In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none, and whoever has food must do likewise.” 12 Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” 13 He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” 14 Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.” 15 As the people were filled with expectation and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16 John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water, but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the strap of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” 18 So with many other exhortations he proclaimed the good news to the people.

Luke 3:7-18 NRSVue

There is nothing that grants us access to the change of the Holy Spirit short of making this repentant turn. In our world, there are membership clubs and all-access passes that might grant us entry into areas that the public may not be able to gain admittance to, but that doesn’t exist within the kingdom of God. Similarly, those that came out to see John relied on their covenant lineage: “We have Abraham as our ancestor.” Thus, assuming that the baptism offered was necessary for the Gentile outsiders but not required for respectable insiders. However, that type of good-for-thee but not-for-me thinking is shattered through John’s statement that “God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.” God is never captive to our traditions or our heritage. Carrying this into our church, we must be wary of relying solely on what is visible within it. How long our name has been on the roll sheets, the focus on the pews our family has sat in for years, or the fact that our friends and family funded or built this or that. Simply calling ourselves Christian or members of a particular congregation will not withstand scrutiny against what God actually requires of a follower. What makes us feel as if we belong to God’s flock? If we view our faith as a family heirloom rather than a living, fruit-bearing branch, we are prime for being cut off. 

We then come to the question of what is required of a true follower of Christ. John speaks to the crowds with a succinct prescription about the requirements of one who wants to be a part of God’s kingdom. He does not need time to come up with a list, nor does he need to separate himself from the group, because the instructions are direct and obvious. Stop doing things that harm people; repent of your sin. This call reminds us that genuine repentance is relational, ethical, and economic. Share your excess. Winter nights bring freezing winds off the mountains; therefore, a second coat sitting idle in a closet is life-saving warmth withheld from a neighbor. The more challenging aspect is that we are specifically told not to hoard our belongings, which includes our money. The bunker mentality of saving against tomorrow’s fear is completely foreign to Kingdom living, because we cannot earn security, and to live repentantly, we must learn to open our hands to provide resources to those in need. Use your position to show grace through justice. John’s instruction to government officials and those who enforce the power of the state was not to flee, but rather to show God’s grace through justice enforcement, because proximity to power tempts us to lean into how justice can edify oneself, but a repentant life will use that position to reflect the grace of God. Therefore, for those working locally in schools, county offices, clinics, or running small businesses, the call is simple: we must refuse to pad the bill. Refuse to leverage authority to humiliate subordinates. In all circumstances, we must choose equity over leverage. Repentance isn’t a feeling of guilt; it is the joyful, concrete reordering of our ordinary lives to love our neighbors as God has loved us.

The repentant life culminates in the purpose behind why we live the way that we do, so that our lives ultimately point to Jesus. Our world is constantly in search of deliverance from its ills. In the same way, the crowds coming to John are hungry for a deliverer, wondering if he might be the one, the Messiah. Instead of basking in the power that might come from people seeing him as such, John points decisively toward Jesus: “One more powerful than I is coming… He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” Water only goes skin-deep, cleaning only the outside. While this is a good start and an act of preparation, Jesus comes to surgically reconcile us to God. For only Christ brings the internal refining fire of the Holy Spirit to burn out our greed, division, and fear. No matter what good we might be able to do for people in the world, it becomes utterly meaningless if we don’t ensure that the glory goes to Christ. Jesus is light, and brings life to a world that has been decimated by brokenness and division. Therefore, we must embrace that Christ strips away our masks, pretenses, and poisonous instincts so that the true person God created can flourish. This is the Gospel, as it is good news because we no longer have to pretend we are whole when we are cracked. We are invited to let Christ’s life shine through us.

However, we cannot point others to Christ without first fixing our lives upon Jesus. John the Baptist clears the path so that we can be prepared to hear the teaching and understand Jesus’ life. Just because we may have heard the stories of Jesus and the Bible hundreds or even thousands of times, we are in no better position than those who are hearing them for the first time; we must allow our lives to be changed by them. This is the only way we can open ourselves to the repentant life. Those who sought to wear the badge of Abraham are just like those of us who lay claim to heritage and tradition, and those are nothing more than snakes hiding in the brush. However, when we see that John points out to the religious that they are called to give up false security, just like the false security the snake finds by hiding in the brush, and the false security we have in our excess, then we are able to walk the repentant life in the light of Christ, and the Spirit can refine us through the fire that helps purify us. Then we can be a wonderful manifestation of the person that God calls us to be, and we can then point to Christ as the one that follows, for whom we are merely preparing the way. Faith is not an inheritance we coast on; it is a life we turn toward.