We’re off into the adventure of Acts in our 5x5x5 New Testament reading plan. Here’s a new observation on the apostles’ choosing Matthias to replace Judas.
So one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us—one of these men must become with us a witness to his resurrection.” And they put forward two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also called Justus, and Matthias. And they prayed and said, “You, Lord, who know the hearts of all, show which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry and apostleship from which Judas turned aside to go to his own place.” And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles. (Acts 1.21 – 26, ESV, emphasis mine)
We don’t spend much time on this event. Matthias is never mentioned again (nor are any of the others listed in Acts 1.13) except Peter and James. It’s not even clear that they needed to choose one more. It’s been argued that God chose Saul of Tarsus later. But no matter. What I saw here for the first time is that although Barsabbas was not chosen, in chapter 15, he’s still an active leader:
Then it seemed good to the apostles and the elders, with the whole church, to choose men from among them and send them to Antioch with Paul and Barnabas. They sent Judas called Barsabbas, and Silas, leading men among the brothers,… (Acts 15.22, ESV)
Just because I’m not chosen for one role or “office,” doesn’t mean I can’t serve in other ways. I don’t have to “take my ball and go home.”
For promotion cometh neither from the east, nor from the west, nor from the south. But God is the judge: he putteth down one, and setteth up another. (Psalm 75.6, 7, KJV)
Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you… (1 Peter 5.5, 6, ESV)
Yesterday we looked at Peter’s rash boasting before his denial, and Jesus’ response after the resurrection: “Go and tell the disciples AND Peter…” Jesus saw Peter “on the team” even if Peter didn’t. I’m reminded of a very poignant book on baseball: The Game by Robert Benson. If you like baseball, I strongly recommend. One chapter talks about a minor league player having a bad night, not delivering with runners in scoring position. In the seventh, he strikes out. Robert writes:
WHEN CRUZ GOES DOWN ON STRIKES TO END THE inning, he stands for just a second or two, looking at his bat as though it were the culprit. Then he very calmly bends over at the waist and places the bat gently on the ground. Without straightening up, he takes his batting helmet off and sets it softly beside the bat. He then unfastens the shin guard that he wears on his right leg and lays it in the helmet. Then he pulls his batting gloves off, puts them neatly one on top of the other, and lays them in the helmet as well. As he straightens up, he picks up the helmet and the bat and calmly hands them to the batboy and turns and walks to his position at first base. No runs, no hits, no errors, but then no muttering, no tirades, no whining either.
There are those who would say that they are not quite sure what to think about a ballplayer who has a cool post-strikeout move that he does when he strikes out to end the inning. After all, it would lead one to suppose that he has struck out quite a bit, perhaps a bit too often even. They are thinking perhaps that he ought to be angry, be remorseful, be something, be anything but placid and calm in the face of defeat. I am thinking that this is a man who has played the game for many years and knows some of what baseball will teach you if you are willing to listen. I am also thinking that I want my kids to learn to do what he does when they strike out. I am also thinking that maybe I should learn some sort of post-strikeout move myself.
…
[speaking metaphorically] Sometime here in the late innings, I am going to come to the plate again a few times with a chance to do something good for the home team, and I am going to hit a weak ground ball or swing and miss. To think that I am not, that there is not as much chance to fail as there is to succeed, is to pretend that I am somehow different than all the rest of the people in the game. It is to believe that I alone will be able to do what no one else has ever been able to do, and that is to get a hit every time I go to the plate.
…
I hope that from here to the end of the game [of life], whenever it turns out that I am somehow unable to hit the ball cleanly, whenever I am unable to even put the thing in play so that someone will have a chance to come home, whenever I swing and miss, or worse, do not even get the bat off my shoulder and take a swing at the blame thing, that I will have the presence of mind and the grace to simply put my things on the ground and go back out to my position.
In Mark 16, Peter hadn’t yet learned the lesson that Jesus put him on the team knowing he would fail. Life is more like baseball than not – the best hitters in baseball are out more than 70% of the time. Just go back to your position! Maybe Peter had learned it by the time he wrote his letters:
Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. (1 Peter 5.5 – 7, ESV)
Let’s close out our journey through Mark with observations on good old Peter. (The 5x5x5 reading plan started us in Acts on January 25.)
And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. And Jesus said to them, “You will all fall away, for it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.’ But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.” Peter said to him, “Even though they all fall away, I will not.” And Jesus said to him, “Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.” But he said emphatically, “If I must die with you, I will not deny you.” And they all said the same. (Mark 14.26 – 31, ESV)
Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (Mark 14.38, ESV)
I’ve often read “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak,” but this time it seemed to tie directly with Peter. I know you’re willing to die with me and for me. However, you won’t (at this time!) because you are weak.
We all know that Peter stayed close enough to actually deny him. (The others all ran far away.) Thus after the resurrection, we have this poignant verse in Mark:
But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.” (Mark 16.7, ESV)
Why “Tell his disciples AND Peter…”? Because Peter had failed and didn’t consider himself a disciple. (Verse 7 is really a short version of John 21.)
Like most of us, Peter had not yet grasped the concept of grace. “I’ve failed and can’t be on the team anymore.”
I want to continue thinking about this tomorrow.
The LORD directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall, for the LORD holds them by the hand. (Psalm 37.23, 24, NLT)
I said yesterday in quoting Matthew Kelly that I would offer this word of wisdom without further comment, and I did.
You cannot live a meaningful life by filling your life with meaningless things and activities. – Matthew Kelly, Life is Messy, page 150.
But that was yesterday! What are some of the meaningless things and activities we give ourselves to?
Things? Our houses are filled with them! Last week I received a gift from my cable company: a nice Bluetooth speaker. There’s only one problem: I don’t need another Bluetooth speaker. I spent a few minutes thinking about where I could put it and how I could use it, but after thinking about meaningless things, I’m going to give it away.
Meaningless activities? I’ve got a personal list I’m trying to whittle down, but this picture captures one source of meaningless activities, doesn’t it?
Life is short. Make sure you spend as much time as possible on the Internet arguing with strangers. – Source unknown, I saw it posted on NextDoor.com.
So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. (Psalm 90.12, ESV)
You’ve noticed in the previous two blogs that I have been reading Life Is Messy by Matthew Kelly. By his own admission, the book itself is messy: no major parts, no chapters, just a series of 1-3-page sections such as A New Path, which I wrote about Sunday, and Slow Down, which was our topic yesterday. At the end of the book, he still had material left over from his journals, so he listed a number of ideas without comment.
The first one is haunting me, and I offer it here without further comment, just as he did:
You cannot live a meaningful life by filling your life with meaningless things and activities. – Matthew Kelly, Life is Messy, page 150.
Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. (Ephesians 5.15, 16, ESV)
Yesterday I wrote that sometimes we have to choose a new path. Here’s one that we’ve all been offered before but that most of us have turned away from:
Slow Down!
Matthew Kelly in Life is Messy has a section called just that: Slow Down. It begins with the observation that he has been “Way over the speed limit of life.” I have written about this before. My friend and mentor, the late Skip Gray used to say:
Jesus had a 3-mile-per-hour ministry: he didn’t go jogging through Judea, sprinting through Samaria, or galloping through Galilee. He walked wherever he went.
Well-known author Dallas Willard said, “You must relentlessly eliminate hurry from your life.”
I really like the way Matthew Kelly frames it:
But here’s the real problem with racing through life. If you think of life as a race, every step sidewards and backwards, every pause, will seem like it doesn’t belong, like a waste of time.
Every step is part of life, and there is life in every step. Life isn’t a race. It’s a dance. Every step forward and every step back, stepping sidewards and twirling in circles, are all part of the dance we call life.
Great dancers are never in a hurry. They relax into the rhythm, become one with their partners, and experience the exhilaration of the dance. When was the last time your life felt like that? – Matthew Kelly, Life is Messy, page 38
Eugene Peterson captures the same idea in his rendering of Ephesians 4 in The Message:
He handed out gifts of apostle, prophet, evangelist, and pastor-teacher to train Christians in skilled servant work, working within Christ’s body, the church, until we’re all moving rhythmically and easily with each other, efficient and graceful in response to God’s Son, fully mature adults, fully developed within and without, fully alive like Christ. (Ephesians 4.11 – 13, MSG, emphasis mine)
Today’s blog will go along with yesterday’s challenge to Stay Awake! Maybe if we stay awake, we won’t fall into a hole. What?!
I think I’m late to the party on this one, but I just saw for the first time an apparently well-known poem by Portia Nelson. Portia was a singer, actress, and poet, well known for playing the nun in Sound of Music who said, “Reverend Mother, I have sinned” (when she removed the distributor cap from the Nazi’s car at the end of the movie).
(If you can’t see the picture containing the poem, please scroll down. I have reproduced it at the end.)
Matthew Kelly writes:
It takes tremendous awareness and courage to embrace a new direction in our lives. It is so easy to sleepwalk through life. It is so easy to keep walking down the same street, so easy to keep falling into that same hole, and all too easy to adopt the posture of a victim and blame someone else. – Life is Messy, page 89.
Not to “sleepwalk through life” is exactly what Jesus is calling us to do. To embrace a new path is also what Jesus is calling us to do. Saul of Tarsus is an example:
I persecuted [Jesus followers] even to foreign cities. In this connection I journeyed to Damascus with the authority and commission of the chief priests. At midday, O king, I saw on the way a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, that shone around me and those who journeyed with me. And when we had all fallen to the ground, I heard a voice saying to me in the Hebrew language, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.” And I said, “Who are you, Lord?” And the Lord said, “I am Jesus whom you are persecuting. But rise and stand upon your feet, for I have appeared to you for this purpose, to appoint you as a servant and witness to the things in which you have seen me and to those in which I will appear to you, delivering you from your people and from the Gentiles—to whom I am sending you to open their eyes, so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me.” Therefore, O King Agrippa, I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision. (Acts 26.11 – 19, ESV)
P.S. If you can’t read the poem in the picture above, here it is:
Autobiography in Five Short Chapters by Portia Nelson:
I I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost … I am helpless. It isn’t my fault. It takes me forever to find a way out.
II I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don’t see it. I fall in again. I can’t believe I am in the same place. But it isn’t my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.
III I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in. It’s a habit. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.
IV I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.
Continuing with our readings in Mark, chapter 13 gives us the well known but hard to understand Olivet Discourse, Jesus’ explanation of the destruction of the temple:
And as he came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what wonderful stones and what wonderful buildings!” And Jesus said to him, “Do you see these great buildings? There will not be left here one stone upon another that will not be thrown down.” And as he sat on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter and James and John and Andrew asked him privately, “Tell us, when will these things be, and what will be the sign when all these things are about to be accomplished?” (Mark 13.1 – 4, ESV)
One translation of one of these Olivet Discourses says that the temple will be “a pile of rubble.” I’ve been there, and I’ve seen the pile of rubble that was the temple, destroyed in 70 A.D. by Roman soldiers. This is the approximate view Jesus and the disciples would have had during the discourse except where the Dome of the Rock, the Muslim mosque is where the temple of Jerusalem was. The wall in front, especially the lower part is as it was when Herod built it, truly from “wonderful stones.” Very large stones.
My point today is we still struggle today with the meaning of the Olivet Discourse. In Matthew it starts:
As he sat on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately, saying, “Tell us, when will these things be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” (Matthew 24.3, ESV)
We all wish Jesus had said, “I hear two questions: 1. When will these things be (the destruction of the temple). 2. What will be the sign of your coming and the end of the age?” To the disciples, it was all one question. Naturally, to their minds, the destruction of the temple would be at the end of the age, at his second coming. But since the destruction of the temple occurred in 70, and Jesus hasn’t returned yet, those aren’t the same events.
Therefore, the discourse is hard to understand since we’re never quite sure which event(s) he’s talking about, despite this semi-amusing sentence:
But when you see the abomination of desolation standing where he ought not to be (let the reader understand), then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains. (Mark 13.14, ESV)
“Let the reader understand….” what?? The “abomination of desolation” is discussed in Daniel 9. Have fun.
My point is this: the discourse itself may be tough, but the ending is clear:
But concerning that day or that hour, no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard, keep awake. For you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his servants in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to stay awake. Therefore stay awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or in the morning—lest he come suddenly and find you asleep. And what I say to you I say to all: Stay awake. (Mark 13.32 – 37, ESV)
There are two central messages at the end:
No one knows…you do not know…you do not know (verses 32, 33, 35)
Be on guard, keep awake…stay awake…stay awake (verses 33, 35, 37)
“You don’t know” should be a clue that we ought not to waste too much time trying to figure out all the nuts and bolts of the end times.
“Stay awake” …for what? Here are some suggestions.
Don’t be overwhelmed by culture.
Don’t let the world around you squeeze you into its own mold. (Romans 12.2, Philips)
Therefore it says, “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. (Ephesians 5.14 – 17, ESV)
Be awake for opportunities to advance the gospel.
At the same time, pray also for us, that God may open to us a door for the word, to declare the mystery of Christ, on account of which I am in prison—that I may make it clear, which is how I ought to speak. Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person. (Colossians 4.3 – 6, ESV)
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. (Matthew 5.9, ESV)
Keep awake and pray!
Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. (Mark 14.38, ESV)
Pray at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak. (Ephesians 6.18 – 20, ESV, emphasis mine)
If you’re following our 5x5x5 reading plan, you will have read Mark’s account of the Triumphal Entry. I thought Mark’s account was a bit underwhelming. We give an entire church service to this every year? (But it’s the same basic account in Matthew and Luke except for one thing that Matthew adds – I’ll get to that in a minute.) Note that most of the press is given to the selection of the donkey – verses 1 – 7! Verses 8 – 10 describe the actual “triumphal entry.” Verse 11 is a rather flat close to the story.
Now when they drew near to Jerusalem, to Bethphage and Bethany, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately as you enter it you will find a colt tied, on which no one has ever sat. Untie it and bring it. If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ say, ‘The Lord has need of it and will send it back here immediately.’” And they went away and found a colt tied at a door outside in the street, and they untied it. And some of those standing there said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” And they told them what Jesus had said, and they let them go. And they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it, and he sat on it. (verses 1 – 7)
And many spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut from the fields. And those who went before and those who followed were shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest!” (verses 8 – 10)
And he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple. And when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve. (Mark 11.1 – 11, ESV)
What’s the significance of this underwhelming account, mostly about a donkey? I’m not sure. We know Mark’s gospel is Peter’s perspective. Maybe Peter had expected this to be the beginning of the visible Kingdom, and it wasn’t. Therefore, no big deal. Just one more time that Jesus walks away from a big event.
Jesus himself needed to do it to fulfill Zechariah’s prophecy, but he also knew it wasn’t a big deal. He could have been thinking, “These same people are going to clamor for my death in just a few days.” Re Zechariah’s prophecy, Matthew wants us to be sure not to miss it:
This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying, “Say to the daughter of Zion, ‘Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.’” (Matthew 21.4, 5, ESV, quoting Zechariah 9.9)
So what is the takeaway? Jesus needed to fulfill prophecy, and the donkey was a big part of it. Jesus didn’t own a donkey, so the three gospel writers take pains to let us know how he acquired a borrowed donkey. And most kings ride into town on a magnificent stallion. The prophet and the gospel writers make it clear that Jesus wasn’t “most kings,” and his “triumphal entry” was on a donkey. He fulfilled the prophecy, rode in, and went “home” with just his small entourage.
Maybe we need to be reminded that God uses ordinary things to accomplish his purposes. My grandson and I just watched The Star, a whimsical animated movie about the birth of Christ, featuring, you guessed it, a donkey. I recommend it if you don’t take it (or yourself) too seriously.
Jesus riding in on a donkey may have been a minor event, but we remember it every year. There will be another event, yet to come, and it won’t be a donkey:
Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The one sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems, and he has a name written that no one knows but himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God. And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has a name written, King of kings and Lord of lords. (Revelation 19.11 – 16, ESV)
Here’s an interesting paragraph from the life of Jesus:
Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they ran there on foot from all the towns and got there ahead of them. When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. And he began to teach them many things. (Mark 6.33, 34, ESV)
When’s the last time you saw people running to hear someone? It’s interesting to think why the crowd valued Jesus’ teaching so much. Mark doesn’t even record what he taught. But we know he taught simply, sometimes in parables, but mostly just practical stuff.
There’s a church where I speak from time to time. Everyone likes the pastor, but I’ve heard him preach, and he gives them too much content, little of which is applicable. When I’m there, sharing simple, applicable stuff, people tell me how much they appreciate it. My friend Ray was the guest speaker at a church once, and people came up to tell him how “clear and relevant” his sermon was. Ray told me, “So they’re used to unclear and irrelevant?”
Regular people crave simple teaching that they can put into practice. Andy Stanley lists “practical preaching” as one of the five catalysts for growth. He writes in his book Deep and Wide, “You’ll remember the first time you heard practical preaching.” I remember. I was raised on solid “Bible teaching,” which was interesting but mostly not applicable. I heard a guy preach for a week from a chart that compared the seven dispensations to the seven churches of Revelation and the seven stages of Paul’s journey by ship in Acts 27.
When I first went to a conference hosted by The Navigators, I heard ordinary men challenging me to put the Word into practice. Here’s an example I’ve blogged about before: old-school Navigator Max Barnett, 82 years old at the time, sharing the importance of quiet time. Or go to discipleshiplibrary.com, search for Skip Gray and pick any message!
And the common people heard Him gladly. (Mark 12.37, NKJV)
They read from the Book of the Law of God and clearly explained the meaning of what was being read, helping the people understand each passage. (Nehemiah 8.8, NLT)
When Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were amazed at his teaching, for he taught with real authority—quite unlike their teachers of religious law. (Matthew 7.28, 29, NLT)
