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Today’s Text

I suppose it is not surprising that we usually start the Christmas story in Luke 2. “In those days, Caesar sent out a decree, etc.” It is so beautiful. Babies and angels and shepherds are exactly the characters that should be in the Christmas story. Nevertheless, it is easy to forget that Luke 2 has a context. (In addition to its larger context in the story of God and Israel)

Most particularly the context of Luke 2 is Luke 1. For us to understand the implications of a young coulple travelling across the country to sign up for taxation as they hide from an evil and corrupt local king, we need to pay close attention to Luke 1. And especially, we need to pay attention to today’s text.

In Mary’s song she both summarizes what we have read so far and she offers foreshadowing of what is to come. She celebrates the reality that God (and not her) is doing great things and that she is God’s servant. [There is some important truth here that all God needs to do great things is a willing servant.]

I am fascinated most however by the second half of the song. In this section, I am fascinated by two things: the verb tense used to describe God’s great deeds and the nature of those deeds.

Paradox and Verb Tense

To be trusted is a wonderful thing. I remember once early in my marriage, I told someone that I would take care of something for them. They were doubtful, and my wife came to my defense, “He may forget and then stay up all night, but if he says he can do it then you can consider it done.” I glowed for weeks. I have let my wife down a lot and to hear her express faith in me in that setting meant so much to me. The part of her statement that I want to focus on is the phrase, “consider it done.” When we use this phrase, we are suggesting that something which most certainly is not done, is so certain to be done that we can already begin to think of it as done.

[One of the rules of gangster movies is that eventually someone will be instructed to whack somebody and they will respond, "Done." I love the confident presemuption of that response. Which is why I try to respond to requests that way as often as possible. Even if I don't follow through it gives the impression that I am a man of action and commitment.]

Mary expresses this kind of cconfidence through the verb tenses of her song. Jesus is still a fetus and Mary is singing about what God “has done.” Even before things have really gotten started, Mary is singing a song of completion. I admire that kind of faith. It is as if Mary is saying, “With God, you can consider it done.” That is such an important reminder for us. In so many ways we live in the “not yet” of God’s promises. Paul even uses the language of birth pangs to describe our longing for God’s completion. But like Mary we can be confident. Because God is commited we can begin to live in light of the coming victory that is even now secured.

Don’t you love it when one of the most signifigant paradoxes of our faith is hidden in the verb tenses of a teenage girl.

Having observed the opening summary of God’s commitment to act through the willing servant Mary, and meandered through the implications of the verb tense, I can no longer avoid the content of this song. In case you didn’t follow the link and read the text (You did didn’t you?) here are a few juicy parts from the end.

His mercy extends to those who fear him,
from generation to generation.
He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;
he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.
He has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.
He has filled the hungry with good things
but has sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
remembering to be merciful
to Abraham and his descendants forever,
even as he said to our fathers.”

Apparently something about this baby growing inside this teenage girl is going to turn the whole world upside down. I have trouble imagining what it would look like if I preached this sermon in downtown Baltimore. Who would hear it as good news? What if I stood and sang this song at my church? Who would hear it as good news? If the good news is that the world is being turned upside down, then for those currently on the top (like me I think) this is curious good news.

N.T. Wright reminds us that Mary sang this song as a Hebrew and so she knew that her child was the fulfillment of an ancient longing for God to come and set the world aright, to renew justice and righteousness where they was oppression and evil.

I read a book once called “In the Parish of the Poor” (I referenced the wrong book.  I will try to find the right one) it included long transcripts from community Bible studies in poor areas of South America. They loved this text. They talked about it for hours. One person read the text and suggested that this is why they should support the communists against the Americans. Another said, “No, this is why we should trust God to overthrow the Americans.”

I was stunned. They had no confusion. They knew that this text was good news for them and bad news for people like me. [Just for clarity, I neither support their politics nor their analysis of who their true enemy was.]

I was reminded that if we are goinng to be the church Jesus expects, then we need to be world turners. We need to be part of the solution to the ongoing oppression of our world, because God plans to repond, and Mary is so confident in God’s success that she can speak about it in the past tense.

I feel great tension because I guess that I can either be part of the solution or I am part of the problem.

-Ethan

I know that if I am going to make it through Luke I should really move on. And I hope to soon. (Maybe even later today.) I am having trouble for two reasons. First, I am having trouble finishing my post on Mary’s song in the next section. (Feel free to read ahead.) Second because I keep thinking about Mary’s words, “I am your servant.” (NIV)
Older translations render this word servant as “handmaid” or “bondmaid.” I am not a translation prude but I miss the old word. In part because translating it servant is sloppy. In part because these other words have so much more evocative power.

Servant is a sloppy translation, because the word used is the feminine form of doulos. Doulos means slave. It does not mean servant. “Servant” – as a word – lacks power because there are so many kinds of servants. Some serve by choice and other by coercion. Some serve for the money and if they decided not to get paid they could quit serving. This sense of “servant” and employee is so common in our household that the word has lost much of its power. It still implies a humble status but it has lost it connotations of obedience and subservience.

The closest our modern world might have to the image Mary uses is that of a personal assistant to a demanding boss (assuming that personal assistant did not get paid and could not quit). The personal assistant dedicates the whole day to the will and purposes of the boss. The archaic English word “handmaid” gets at this pretty well. This describes the role a noblewoman’s most intimate servant to responded and acted out her every need and in some sense acted as an extension of the noblewoman’s self.

I want to be that way with God.  I tremble to imagine what good purposes God could work in my life if I could commit to being his slave.  A lot in me fights that idea, but I know it would be great.  God has such good ideas.  He is always doing the coolest and best stuff, why wouldn’t I want to be totally on board.

I have a series of events in my last ministry called the Nights of the Bizarre.  When I invited my students to attend, I would never tell them what was happening.  I would only tell them how messy the event would be so they could dress appropriately.  My promise was this, If they came and they did what I said, they would have the time of their life.  If they didn’t they would regret it when they heard what happened.  The first one was my poorest attended event ever.  But I kept my word.  After one year, the Nights of the the Bizarre were my best attended events.  And I never once once told them what would happen before they came.

God is often just that mysterious, but God’s track record is even better.  I want to show up and say, “God I am your slave.  Your will is my will.  Your prupose is my purpose.  I don’t know what you have planned, but I am sure that it will be the time of my life, and if were to choose to follow some other way but yours, I know that I will regret having missed the great adventure you havve prepared for me.”

I know that in a few pages Jesus is going to challenge some people to follow him.

I’m in.

-Ethan

Today’s Text

You can take it as a given that there is always too much to discuss so I hope that you are brave enough to offer your questions. If you don’t want to post to the blog, then email me (ethan@besquared.org) and I will write a post just for you.

As I read this text, the first thing that jumped out at me was the contrast between Mary’s response and Zechariah’s. She is suprised and she asks questions. (Like Zechariah, she paid attention in health class.) But she does not ask, “How can I be sure?” There is no hint of “Prove It,” rather her response seems to convey wonder. And then having been told what God will do, she commits wholly to the method and will of God. As you can tell from my last post, I want this kind of attitude.

For me, one of the big obstacles to this attitude is fear. Apparently it was an obstacle for Mary too. Notice Luke’s clarity. She was not frightened at the angel’s appearance or voice. She was not surprised by the bright light. She was afraid of the message. So far she has been told that she is highly favored and the the Lord is with her. What exactly is fearful about this message?

I think that perhaps this text acknowledges that to be used by God is a fearful possibility. God’s servants will feast at the table one day, but first they will often pass through the valley of the shadow of death and even the feast comes in the presence of enemies. I think that part of the reason I am so quick with my rational objections (See the last post) is that inside I am afraid to let go. I am worried what God will do with my nice ordinary life if I really give God control. So I bargain and compromise and strike deals with God.

How differently Mary responds. “Behold the handmaid of the Lord.” or in NIV, “I am the Lord’s servant.”

Fear Not

That is the response I want. Despite my fear, because of my fear, I want to say, “I am the Lord’s servant. I will not be afraid because it is not in my hands. It is in God’s hands. I am God’s servant and that is enough. And as God’s servant, I will do God’s purposes, in God’s ways, for God’s glory.”

Mary got the message, and so the angel left.

-Ethan

Today’s Text

There is so much to talk about in this text and I plan to ignore the vast majority of it. In fact, here is a list of what I will NOT be talking about.

• The signifigance for the double decent from Aaron as a foreshadowing of John’s role.
• The implications of bearing the mantle of Elijah.
• The puns on hearing and speach, and angels (ie. messengers) and muteness that are everywhere in this section.
• What are they talking about in v. 8-10 about how the priestly system worked?
• The narrative suspense being built in this story by starting with a foreshadowing of a birth that isn’t even Jesus. Luke thinks that we need this narrative context for some reason. (In contrast to how a Bond movie (or the gospel of Mark) starts, with lots of action and little or no context.)
• This narrative introduction creates continuity with the great redemption narrative of which this is a part. One of the puzzles of Lukes gospel is that despite Greek authorship and audience, Luke cares a great deal about narrative and theological continuity with the Old Testament. Telling this story is a subtle but important example of that.

If you want to know more about the above topics, you will have to ask. If you don’t care, then don’t ask.
Instead I want to talk about the pendulum from smug self-satisfaction to personal conviction that I follow as I consider Zechariah’s response to the words of the angel. It happens the same way every time I read such story. The angel comes to someone, or someone sees a vision, and they respond with doubt or delay. And I think, “How could anyone refuse such a situation? How could anyone respond like this?” I often even go on to think, “I would not have responded like that. If I had a vision, if had a direct word from God, I would do it God’s way. I would never presume.”

But in my heart – even when I am stuck in smug self-satisfaction – I know that I am lying. I know that Zechariah’s impulsive doubt that God could do what God says pales in comparison with the lifestyle of scepticism that I often practice.

Recently, Evan and I were discussing how to water tomatoes. I had showed him twice and he was ready to try. He had his own idea of how to do it. I stopped him and explained, “That’s a good idea buddy, but it won’t work. You need to do it just like I showed you.” He tried again a different way from his first attempt but still not how I had showed him. (Just for clarity I want to assure you that his problem was not that he could not do it the way I had taught, it was that he would not.) I stopped him again and firmly explained, “Evan, there is one way to do this. If you won’t do it my way, you can’t do it.” So he quit. (Again – for clarity – he has since relented and is now excellent at watering plants. You can hire him for 10$ per hour.) As he left I found myself thinking, “Who in the world does he think he is? How could he possibly imagine that his way of doing something would be better than mine?”

As I reflect on this text today, those thoughts haunt me. You see, I do have direct access to words from God. I pretend that if an angel came it would be different, but I have the teaching of the very son of God. I have access to more direct teaching and instruction from God than Zechariah did, and yet I still say, “How can I be sure of this?” I am quite enamored with my own ideas. Like Zechariah, I know how the world works. Old women don’t have babies.

• God has said to me (and to you) directly, “Do not worry about you will wear or eat. Seek first the kingdom and all this will be added to you.” And I say, “How can I be sure of this, because I know how the world works, people who seek first the kingdom often don’t eat as well as I would like nor do they dress as comfortably as I want to.”
• God has said to me (and to you) directly, “Love your enemies. Do good to them.” And I say, “How can I be sure of this, for I have studied history and I know how the world works, many who have loved their enemies were killed by those enemies. Jesus’ love for enemies led to cross.”
• God has said to us directly, “Deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me.” And I say, “How can I be sure of this, for I know how the world works, if I don’t look out for myself no one will.”
• God has said to us directly, “If I am lifted up, I will draw all men to me.” And I say, “How can I be sure of this, for I know how the world works, people don’t want Jesus, they want better lives, and better marriages, and lower golf scores, they want their life – their best life – and they want it now. If all I offer is the life of Jesus in them, it is not enough.”
• God has said to us directly, “Come to me all who are burdened and I will give you rest.” And I say, “How can I be sure of this, for I know how the world works, who would get the work done, could I really rest? If I wasn’t busy how could your kingdom grow?”

I think that God roars – or whispers – BE SILENT. And then says,

You may think that you know how the world works,

but you have forgotten how I work.

Zechariah did not overestimate the challenge. His biology was right. Old men and old women do not have children. But he did underestimate his God. God delights in working against the grain. God brings children to the barren and eloquence to the shy and power to the humble and grace to the lost. I need this story. It is a great way to start a gospel because it reminds us that God’s ways are not our ways and God’s power is sufficient even against impossible odds. But even more, I need this story in my life.

I need to be reminded that all God asks is faithfulness to God’s ways and God’s plans, even when I cannot see their wisdom. I pray that I might object less to God’s ways and object more to the ways of Men. I prya that I will continually submit to God’s wisdom and will even when to follow them seems folly at best and impossible at worst.

-Ethan

Ps. If you have questions about that other stuff, feel free to ask. And if you have areas of God’s will that you find hard to trust, you can add to my list.

Today’s Text

I love the way Luke’s gospel begins. As we will see, there is long introduction before Jesus arrives. But even before the narrative introduction we have this preface of sorts where Luke speaks directly to the reader and answers two very important questions. He tells us why he wrote and how he wrote.

There isn’t much we can know about this character. There are two basic possibilities. They are pretty different. He could be a person – a noble most likely because the term “most excellent” was a specific honorific for a particular noble class. [A less lazy blogger would go look up the specific class.]

If this is the case, then he is certainly a Christian and probably the person who is sponsoring the publication of this book. It would be an expensive project to write and distribute a book of this length. Scribes would be needed and piles of paper. It was common in those days for a noble to fund the publication of an important work and be honored in an opening dedication. [This explains the hilarious pun - "a word from our sponsor."]
A second possibility is that this is an attempt to generically personalize the book. Theophilus means “lover of God” and could be a generic term for any Christian. In either case the first audience for this book was Christians and that will have signifigant implications for the stories Luke chooses and the whole feel of the gospel. I find myself favoring the first possibility these days, but I forget why. If you are passionate about this issue, we can schedule a cage match.

Now on to our main points.

Why did Luke write this book?

Well, In verse 4 he tells us, “so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.” In the Message this reads, “so you can know beyond the shadow of a doubt the reliability of what you were taught.” Wouldn’t it be cool it Luke actually said that? Of course he didn’t. That is an entirely unreasonable standard of belief. Luke actually said, “That thou mightest know the certainty of those things, wherein thou hast been instructed.” Which is obviously easier to read in modern English, and these all mean basically the same thing.

Luke wrote to give a confidence boost. He knew that it was easy to forget that our faith was grounded in history – in events that really happened. So he decided to do the reasearch and checks his facts so that we could be confident in the stories we had been told. (Kinda like the Lee Stroble of the early church.) I find this very comforting. Luke recognized that the stories of Christ are remarkable. (In any other context we might even call them “unbelievable.”) Therefore it is important that an extra measure of care is taken to validate these dramatic claims. It is to provide this assurance that Luke writes. This reason for writing is intimately connect to how Luke wrote.

How did Luke write this book?

Luke acknowledges that he is an investigator. He is not an eyewitness. These are not his memories. He is a second generation Christian, and so like us he has to take someone’s word for it. And he is no fool, so when asked to believe such dramatic tales, he investigates. He describes three sources: Other writings, eyewitnesses and stewards of the word.

We can’t know eactly what other writings Luke knew. It is commonly thought by most scholars that Luke knew Mark and by a growing minority that Luke knew Matthew. Others suppose that both Matthew and Luke had access to a non-narrative “sayings source.” I think that these suggestions are all likely. It is expecially likely that Luke knew Mark. In every case however I think that we should be careful to draw conclusions from such speculation.

Luke’s second category is eyewitnesses. If Luke was writing in the Late sixties or the seventies – something like 30 to 40 years after Jesus death – then eyewitness would have still been available but they would be rare. I think that it is safe to say that this is a big part of why the gospels were written at this time. The people who saw it happen were dying. So Luke writes at an important time. In twenty years there will be no eyewitnesses to consult.

Luke’s third category is the stewards of the word. This reminds us that in an oral culture stories mattered and communities treasured and kept their important stories. The transmission fo story was not a great game of telephone. The word steward speaks to their great care for the word. These stewards would have told stories in community and the consistent retelling in front of a consistent audience would have kept the stories sound. (NT Wright has some great stuff to say about this that I will scan in later.) So Luke can visit these communities, and hear these stories 20( for Acts) to 40 (for the Gospels) years after the fact.

That’s why and how, but who cares?

Understanding how Luke wrote is very important to me. I worry about Christians who imagine that Luke and the other scripture writers went into a room, prayed for inspiration and wrote down their book. Instead I hope that we picture Luke waking up and praying, “Lord, help me find the right people to talk to today.” And then getting up and visiting the old folks in the churches or the grumpy old men sitting outside a Nazareth barber shop and asking them. What happened, What was it like?

I picture Luke going through his texts and organizing the stories, and going to the aging Christians in Jerusalem, and asking, “Do you remember when Jesus told this story?” They might respond, “Oh he told that one a lot. I heard it for the first time here.”

The details of this picture aren’t important. What is important is that we recognize that these memories are not the product of one man in a closet with God, and when this book was published, Luke could honestly say, “Dont’ take my word for it, go meet these people and check for yourself.” That makes a ton of difference.

So my hope is that you will experience Luke not as a mystical moral tale, but as a life changing piece of investigative journalism. Luke has gathered the evidence, not merely to write a good story, or to secure his place in history, but for this purpose, “that you may be certain of that which you have been told.”

Amen.

-Ethan