Showing posts with label discipleship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label discipleship. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

"I want to want . . ."

Last night when my deacons and I met with our regional minister to discuss our NCD survey results, we talked at one point about the difference between aspirational values and actual values. Aspirational values are the values we say we have. For instance, as believers we say that we want to spend our lives serving Christ and glorifying God, but our actual values -- how we actually live and spend our time -- demonstrate that we'd often (or at least sometimes) rather live ordinary lives enjoying at least modest creature comforts without ever having to journey beyond our comfort zones.

Thinking of this tonight made me think that while I can say, "I want to serve Christ and glorify God, what I really mean is, "I want to want to serve Christ and glorify God." At least it can be that way. Even our noblest aspirations are eroded by self-interest. Realizing that so often even my desires are skewed by sin, I see that I don't always want what I should want. Sometimes this is true when we worship and sing a variety of lyrics that tend toward the aspirational rather than the actual. We express things in words, in song, that we don't altogether mean or feel. We confess in sung prayers that we want more of God in our lives, that we long for a deeper relationship with him when in reality there are times that our behaviour demonstrates the opposite: we really want our own way, our own desires met, and we want as little interference from God as possible.

This isn't to say that our worship or our aspirations are therefore disingenuous. Rather, it's about recognizing that our desires -- what we want -- also need to be transformed. Only through the work of the Spirit can the aspirational be gradually turned into the actual. Only through the messy work of prayer, worship, Bible study, fellowship, and daily discipleship do we become what we ought to be and therefore more fully want what we ought to want: to serve Christ and glorify God. This is what I want, anyway; or at least it's what I want to want.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Things Beside the Point . . .

One of the most conspicuous features of Mark's Gospel is its pace. Things happen quickly. Amongst the four evangelists, Mark's work is akin to an action movie. Not a moment is wasted. There is little actual teaching in Mark. We see more of Jesus doing and moving than Jesus saying. He's heading toward Jerusalem, and more specifically, the cross. We learn this as readers in Mark 8:31: "Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering . . ." This occurs roughly midway through the narrative. No wonder many scholars refer to Mark as a passion narrative with an extended introduction. Jesus has a destination and proceeds toward it--and please pardon the pun--with a relentless passion. It seems, then, that Jesus is very goal-minded. The whole point of his ministry is to reach Jerusalem, the cross, and the destiny that he came to fulfill for us all.

Some of his disciples, it would seem, were also very goal-minded. They too were looking to the future and to what they thought the point of Jesus' ministry ought to be. In Mark 10 James and John, Jesus' second pair of converts, approach Jesus with a request: "Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory." Jesus' response, though oblique, proves that they had no idea who Jesus really is and what it will take for them to sit with him in his glory. They wanted power, influence, authority. A certain greed was rearing its ugly head. No surprise, then, that the rest of the apostles were angry with them once they found out. And as usual, the dull-headedness of the disciples provides Jesus with significant opportunity to teach them what service truly means. He ties his mission and identity directly to what he expects of them: "Whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve . . ."

What specific difference does this make? Look at Mark 10. In one story his disciples tried to prevent little children from approaching him. Jesus, they think, has more important things to do. "Don't disturb the Master," they say, "with such insignificant people!" Children had no status in Jesus' day. They were people beside the point. But precisely for this reason, Jesus admonished his disciples sternly and let them know that this children were precisely the point. A little later in the same chapter, a blind man cries out to Jesus for mercy. Many there try and shut him up. We don't know for sure if the disciples were among them. Whatever the case, the man just cries out louder. And Jesus stops. Jesus shows mercy. Jesus stops at the side of the road to heal a blind man crying out desperately for his touch. And then we are told that after he regained his sight he "followed him on his way."

People that many thought were incidental, distracting to the real work at hand, unimportant, and beside the point, Jesus treated as worthy of attention, time, and energy. Jesus often treated what people considered beside the point as the point. Yes, Jesus had an agenda. This agenda, this mission, meant proceeding towards the cross. But not at the expense of people; in fact, he proceeded toward the cross--a destination even his closest disciples did not yet understand--precisely for these very people. "The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve . . ."

What his disciples didn't get in their immature and hungry grab for power was that power was not on Jesus' "to do" list. They were only concerned for themselves. James and John, in vying for positions alongside Jesus, missed the point entirely. The little children were the point. The blind man crying out desperately for mercy and for his sight was the point. Jesus was giving up his life for "the least of these."

How often do I do the same thing? How often do I overlook and shove aside that which Christ wants front and center? How often do I do that because I am more interested in personal gain and self-interest than I am in the needs of those around me? We can make fun of those disciples (duh-ciples!) all we want, but we are more often like them than Jesus. Do I have an agenda that pushes away the least of these or do I allow my agenda to be shaped by the least of these? Jesus' passion and mission was restoring fellowship between God and anyone interested in that restoration, and this meant treating with respect, dignity, and a fierce love many that we normally see as beside the point when we're preoccupied with ourselves and our own self-important agendas. May we be more like Jesus, willing to stop at the road side to assist those crying out, knowing full well that doing so is a part of the journey along the road in the first place.