Reflection on John 11:32-44

 

John 11:32-44

32 When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 33 When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. 34 He said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” 35 Jesus began to weep. 36 So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” 37 But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

38 Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. 39 Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” 40 Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” 41 So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” 44 The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

Reflection

Jesus knew.  Jesus knew that he was going to raise Lazarus from the dead before he even arrived on the scene.  The Bible says that “when Jesus heard [about Lazarus’ illness],” “he stayed two days longer in the place where he was” (John 11:4 and 6).  Jesus knew that what was about to happen would be “for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it” (John 11:4). He knew that Lazarus would die.  He knew that he would raise him again so that we might all believe.  He knew that those gathered around the tomb would hear his prayer to God and that they would trust in him after they saw.  Jesus knew it all.

Yet…

When Mary runs up, kneels down, and accuses Jesus of being too slow in coming to help her brother, his friend, and when she chides, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died,” Jesus does not defend himself (John 11:32).  Jesus does not say to Mary, “Just calm down woman.  There is nothing to get hysterical about.  Everything is going to be alright.  You will see.”  He says none of those things.  Rather, Jesus lets his dear Mary accuse him to his face.  He lets her break down right in front of him, joining her tears and weeping with the others gathered there.  He does not rebuke her anger, nor does he defend himself against her accusations.

And, it makes me think of the times that I accused the Lord for not getting there in time.  It makes me think of the times that I questioned why there was not healing, but rather there was death.  It makes me think of the times that I broke down, sobbing alone in the car while driving, or weeping in my office with the door closed.  I see my face reflected in Mary’s face as she accuses Jesus, because just as Jesus did not defend himself against her accusations, Jesus also chose not to defend himself against my own.  Jesus chose to simply be there for me, and with me, as I broke apart.  Sometimes, we can do nothing more than be there when someone breaks apart.  Sometimes, simply being there is the best response.

After-all, Jesus knows it all.  He knows how the story ends.  He knew how Lazarus’ story was going to end.

Yet…

When Jesus looks around at the weeping and loud laments, seeing those he loves having their heart torn apart right in front of his eyes, the Bible says Jesus is “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved” (John 11:33).  That is what my Bible says anyway, but those who hear this story in the Greek language, hear that Jesus is “angrily groaning” in his spirit and his usual calmness has been “deeply disturbed” making him “restless.”  Somehow, the death of his friend and the emotional toll that it is taking on all of those he loves completely unsettles Jesus, making him strangely angry and deeply restless. 

And, it makes me think of all of the times, while grieving, that I have become angry at God, and the world, and the slow driver who goes 25 mph in a 40 mph down the golden mile.  Who does that? Do they not know there are people grieving out here?  Speed up!  Are you trying to make us mad? 

Jesus’ angry groans make me think of my shouts to the sky and fists to the air in utter frustration at the senselessness of it all.  Death is senseless.  Death it just takes, and takes, and takes, and does not give.  And, Jesus’ restlessness makes me think of the nights of tossing and turning, unable to find some peace.  And, it makes me think, Jesus gets it.  God gets it.  Jesus is right there, punching his fists into the air out of anger and despair with me.  Knowing the end does not make it any easier.  Jesus knows the end, but it does not make it any easier.  He gets it. 

That is right; Jesus knows the end of the story.  Jesus knows what he is going to do.

Yet…

When Jesus asks, “Where have you laid him?” searching for Lazarus’ resting place, they respond, “Lord, come and see” (John 11:34).  It is so weird.  He hears his own words coming right back at him.  “Come and see.”  These were the words he used to beckon his followers.  These were the words he used to convince people who were lost, searching for life, and light, and truth, to follow him and find that life, light, and truth.  “Come and see.” 

And, now the words are being used to beckon him toward death.  “Come and see pain.” “Come and see decay.”  “Come and see death.”  “Come and see.”  Was all of the beckoning and preaching and convincing all for nothing?  Lazarus cannot come and see anymore!  What good did the coming and seeing do him?

And, it was all too much.  “Jesus began to weep” (John 11:35).  Actual tears run down his face, even though he knows the end of the story.

And, it makes me think that the tears are OK.  The tears that still fill my eyes, years after the death, are fine and good.  It convinces me that the tears are not a sign of weakness, but are rather an expression of love made liquid.  Liquid love ran down Jesus’ face and soaked the ground just as liquid love would pour out of his side and water the earth when Jesus is pierced with a spear after his own death on the cross.  There is something healing about that liquid love that he pours on the world.  And, there is something healing about our tears.  They are a gift.  Notice, that it is only after the tears fall that Jesus is finally ready to do what he knew he was going to do all along.

And, let us not gloss over that too quickly.  It was only after the accusations, and the confusion, and the anger, and the energy draining restlessness, and the all important tears that Jesus is then ready to bring the new life; the resurrection.  All of that stuff had to come first, both for himself, and for those around.

So, if you are still there; if you are still in the accusations, and the confusion, and the anger, and the restlessness and are still consumed by the tears, if you are still in that sort of place, that is fine.  You are exactly where you are supposed to be.  Jesus has been there.  God understands.  And, Jesus’ Spirit is right there with you through it all, taking it all, and holding you through it all.  Jesus will not abandon you in any of it, because he knows the end of the story.

38 Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. 39 Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” 40 Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” 41 So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” 44 The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” 

(John 11:38-44).

May you too be resurrected from your grief.  May you too be unbound and set free to live your life.  May you too find hope in Jesus’ promise of resurrection; even as you grieve the loss of those who now feast at the heavenly party that has no end, with Jesus Christ, our risen Lord.

Reflection on Romans 3:19-28

Romans 3:19-28

19 Now we know that, whatever the law says, it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world may be held accountable to God. 20 For no human will be justified before him by deeds prescribed by the law, for through the law comes the knowledge of sin.

 21 But now, apart from the law, the righteousness of God has been disclosed and is attested by the Law and the Prophets, 22 the righteousness of God through the faith of Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction, 23 since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; 24 they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, 25 whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to demonstrate his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; 26 it was to demonstrate at the present time his own righteousness, so that he is righteous and he justifies the one who has the faith of Jesus. 

 27 Then what becomes of boasting? It is excluded. Through what kind of law? That of works? No, rather through the law of faith. 28 For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law. 

 

Reflection

“We hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law” (Romans 3:28).  That phrase was a mind-blowing discovery to Martin Luther, the first voice of the Protestant Reformation.  The idea that a person is made right by trusting in the one who can make things right, Jesus Christ, changed Luther’s life.  Previously, Luther’s relationship with God was one of absolute struggle. 

In his own words, Luther describes his life previous to his discovery: “As a monk I led an irreproachable life. Nevertheless I felt that I was a sinner before God. My conscience was restless, and I could not depend on God being propitiated by my satisfactions [he could not trust that he had gained God’s favor by doing all that God expected]. Not only did I not love, but I actually hated the righteous God who punishes sinners…Thus a furious battle raged within my perplexed conscience…” ("Weimarer Ausgabe" 54. 183-185).

After-all, there is so much pressure on us to be a certain type of person, and to do certain things.  I see the videos my teen watches, instructing her on the right way to shape and blend her makeup.  It is the law of makeup, so that the girls of the world can be acceptable.

I feel the pressures from family and friends to vote the “right” way and support the “right” causes as the election looms.  It is as if there is only one acceptable way to think and vote and do.  It is the law of political alignment, so that the voters of the world will be acceptable to their fellow citizens.

I feel the pressures to do more and be more and do more still, feeling guilty for not doing enough for people and being enough for the right people.  I feel the list of “doing” growing and growing, and I feel myself encouraging others to do the same, as if doing enough will allow any of us to finally be acceptable.

That is the all pervasive law of “up religion.”  “Up religion” tells you that you will only be acceptable and good if you do what is expected.  “Up religion” encourages you to save yourself, make something of yourself; be a better self.  “Up religion” says that you must climb up to finally see God.  “Up religion” requires that instructions be followed precisely and laws be kept.

And, the thing that is so confusing about the laws of “up religion” is that the laws are good.  As Paul says, “we know that, whatever the law says, it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world may be held accountable to God” (Romans 3:19).  There are ways that makeup is done that makes you look glamorous and there are ways that makeup is done that makes you look like a crazy, cartoon faced Aunt Edna.  Sorry to all of the actual “Aunt Ednas” out there.  I am sure you are all beautiful. 

The laws are good.  God’s expectations of us are good, and our expectations of one another are also often very good, and what we do does affect other people.  The way you vote will have repercussions with the way our society either falters or flourishes.  The laws are good. 

But, the problem with “up religion” is that we put way too much stock in the abundance that the laws promise.  We trust that the laws will actually bring us what is promised.  We trust that the proper makeup will get us the attention that we seek.  Unfortunately, makeup may get someone to look our way, but it cannot get anyone to love us.  At least it has never worked for me. 

The other problem is that we convince ourselves that we will actually be able to accomplish the all that is expected.  We do and do and do, but all of that doing only reveals that we have not done it enough.  How many of you feel as if you have prayed enough?  How many of you feel as if you have loved your neighbor enough?  Praying and loving are absolutely good, but over and over again we look at the law, at the expectations, and all we see reflected back is the face of a failure.  We cannot be made right by following the law because God so often uses the law to make us come to “the knowledge of sin” (Romans 3:20).  The law, the expectations, are like a mirror that reveals us to be failures.

This is where the good news starts to break in.  After years of struggling to keep the law, only to be exposed as weak and a fraud, Luther made the discovery in God’s Word that changed his life.  In his own words, “Then finally God had mercy on me, and I began to understand that the righteousness of God is a gift of God by which a righteous man lives, namely faith, and that sentence: The righteousness of God is revealed in the Gospel, is passive, indicating that the merciful God justifies us by faith, as it is written: ‘The righteous shall live by faith.’ Now I felt as though I had been reborn altogether and had entered Paradise” (Ibid. 183-185).

And, this was when Luther discovered the gift of God that had been hidden in plain sight the entire time.  He discovered the gift of “down religion.”  “Down religion” is God’s promise to “come down” to us, to heal us, to feed us, and to save us.  In the very real feet and hands of Jesus Christ, God comes down to make things right again, as a gift.  It is the promise of the cross, where Jesus comes down to the dust through death, only to rise up again and raise us with him. 

The Apostle Paul prays that we will not only see, but grasp with our very lives, like a sinking person grasps a life preserver, this gift of God, convincing us that “since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Romans 3:23-24).

The Apostle Paul wants us to trust that Jesus loves us first, before we prove anything.  Jesus comes down to find us and save us, searching like a shepherd who loves his lost sheep, searching like the woman who desperately seeks her lost coin, and embracing tightly the son who had wandered away even before he could say, “I’m sorry.” 

In his book, “When Christ Comes,” Max Lucado recounts a true story that came after a horrific earthquake.

“Moments after the deadly tremor ceased, a father raced to an elementary school to save his son. When he arrived, he saw that the building had been leveled. Looking at the mass of stones and rubble, he remembered a promise he had made to his child: ‘No matter what happens, I’ll always be there for you.’

Driven by his own promise, he found the area closest to his son’s room and began to pull back the rocks. Other parents arrived and began sobbing for their children.

'It’s too late,’ they told the man. ‘You know they are dead. You can’t help.’ Even a police officer encouraged him to give up his task.

But the father refused. For eight hours, then sixteen, then thirty-two, thirty-six hours he dug. His hands were raw and his energy gone, but he refused to quit. Finally, after thirty-eight wrenching hours, he pulled back a boulder and heard his son’s voice. He called his boy’s name, ‘Arman! Arman!’ And a voice answered him, ‘Dad, it’s me!’

Then the boy added these priceless words, ‘I told the other kids not to worry. I told them if you were alive, you’d save me, and when you saved me, they’d be saved, too. Because you promised, ‘No matter what, I’ll always be there for you.’”

(https://www.irontontribune.com/2021/05/16/he-has-promised-he-will-always-be-there-for-you/)

Jesus promises to rescue us and make us right.  We are in the rubble.  We cannot possibly get ourselves out.  Whenever we try, another piece of rubble falls down to pin us under.  But, rather than despair, we urge others to trust the promise given to us, “No matter what, I’ll always be there for you.”

That is why we, as God’s people, do not trust in ourselves.  We do not trust in our own works or our own accomplishments.  We are not convinced by “up religion” that tells us that we need to do more and be more. 

Rather, as Paul says, “We hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law” (Romans 3:28).  We are people of “down religion” who trust in the one who wants the best for us and who goes to any length to make things right for us once again, even all the way to a cross.  In the cross we see that first and foremost, we are loved by Jesus. 

And, we share that promise of “down religion,” with everyone around us, because we understand to our very core that everyone strives for “up religion.”  The dark corners of this world want to convince us all that it is up to us to do more and be more and save all.  The world tries to convince us to save ourselves and be slaves to the messages of this world.  “Look pretty.”  “Be the best.”  “Find God.”  But, “up religion” forces us to ask the wrong god to save us.  You will recognize this very struggle in the poem, “Stepdad.”

Stepdad

Everything he does, he does to make his father proud. 

 

The ceramic volcano that he made in school,

that he handed over to his father in pride,

was thrown into the corner of his Father’s apartment,

collecting piles of dust inside. 

 

I am his stepdad. 

He doesn’t want me,

but I was there to hold him,

he needed to know someone was there to see. 

 

The time that he devoted at the gym,

gaining an impressive, muscular frame,

was not seen by his father

who decided women’s bodies were more to his gaze. 

 

I am his stepdad. 

He doesn’t want me,

but I was there to spot him as he lifted those weights.

I will be there, because that is what he needs. 

 

The touchdowns and the championship

were all done to make his father talk with pride. 

But, when he stared to the stands, his father was nowhere to be found,

and his tears he had to hide. 

 

Instead, his eyes fell upon his stepdad. 

He doesn’t want me,

but I smiled and raises my thumbs up high anyway,

because the day will come when he will surely see, 

 

that while grieving his father

whose pride he was never able to find,

he will see the dad

that he had the entire time. 

 

But, until that day,

I vow to be at his side,

To show him that he has always been loved,

and has never needed to do anything to gain my pride.

 

Christ has been there the entire time, giving his love.  There is no need to do more or go up. Christ has come down to you.  May Christ’s love for you this entire time, blow your mind, and may he continue to reform your life.

Reflection on Mark 10:35-45

Mark 10:35-45

35James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.” 36And he said to them, “What is it you want me to do for you?” 37And they said to him, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” 38But Jesus said to them, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?” 39They replied, “We are able.” Then Jesus said to them, “The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; 40but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.”

41When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John. 42So Jesus called them and said to them,“You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. 43But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, 44and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. 45For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.”

 

Reflection

I am going to give James and John the benefit of the doubt here.  When they ask Jesus to grant them to sit at his right and his left hand in his glory, I am going to assume that they are not necessarily seeking power and glory for themselves, even though the other disciple’s red-faced anger reveals that they are certain James and John are trying to do exactly that.  I am simply going to assume that James and John are like our kids, fighting to sit next to the adult of their choice whenever we go out to eat at a restaurant.  They are not maliciously trying to keep the other children away from their chosen adult (who, in full disclosure, is never me).  They just want to be close to the adult they love.  I assume that James and John just want to be close with Jesus.

I get that.  I also want to be close with Jesus.  I have wanted to be close for a long time.  During my college years, I had sort of a mystical understanding about this getting close to God business.  I reasoned: if Christ is the source of all life, and he is still making all things new right as we speak, then if I just stay still enough, I will be able to feel his life and his love at work.  It was kind of like someone standing in a thunderstorm, trying to feel the static electricity build up, hair raising up on head, before the lightning strikes…which I do not suggest trying.  I reasoned that if I stayed still enough I would feel his power and be at one with him in peace.

Meditation, thus, was my primary form of prayer.  I am not sure I ever pulled it off.  Mostly I would come out of my meditations with a backache, no nearer to Christ.  But, like James and John, I wanted to be near Christ!  I think we all want that.

Years later I had a co-worker who also wanted to be close to God.  We worked together scraping rust off of an old Corp of Engineers steamboat.  While we scraped he talked about his desire to get closer to God.  “If I can get closer to God,” he would say, “then God will reward me and I can get out of this rust hole.”  That was not a metaphor.  We were literally scraping rust in a hole.  “I know that God wants the best for me.  I know that God wants me to be successful in life, and rich.  Can you help me to know God better so that I can be successful and rich?”

It was at this point that I made the mistake of telling my coworker that I was training to be a pastor.  You know how, if you bake a good apple pie for someone once, they will keep asking for it all the time?  Well, this is the pastor version of that. 

He would talk endlessly about how God wanted him to be successful.  After days of this, our rust hole started to feel pretty small and cramped.  But, he was convinced that I could teach him the secrets of God and being rich…I mean blessed.  After-all, the guy who is scraping rust in a hole next to you is the obvious choice for holy, financial advice.

I could not give him what he wanted.  Not only was I bad at finances, but I knew this story of James and John all too well.  I knew that, like James and John, he wanted glory and reward, not sacrifice and cross bearing.  The church I went to had a huge wooden cross right in the middle of it, representing Christ’s suffering as it loomed over us.  I could not possibly miss the message that cross was sending.

“How about you check out that church on the edge of town,” I suggested.  “You know, the one where the pastor pulls up every Sunday morning in a Ferrari.”  Needless to say, a Ferrari was never in my blessed future.

Yeah, I know, it is easy to judge the guy, but how is his desire to know God more and get the benefit of nice things in life any different than my desire to know God more and get the benefit of peace in life?  We both wanted something from God.  We both came with hands open, expecting them to be filled properly.

“Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you,” James and John ask, hands open…waiting to be filled (Mark 10:35). 

“What do you want?” Jesus wisely responds. 

What did they want?  They wanted to be a part of God's glory.  They wanted to sit to the right and to the left of Jesus on his throne.  They wanted to be near God. 

They did not know what they were asking though.  They just did not understand that they may want to go to the charlatan on the edge of town who drives a Ferrari because ahead of Jesus is a Great, Big Cross.  Christ's throne of glory is a cross.  And, the seats to the right and to the left of him?  James and John cannot have them because they have already been reserved for two criminals who will die with Jesus.

“The last will be first, and the first will be last” (Mark 10:31).

Greatness, being one with God, is not defined by power and glory, or even eternal peace.  Rather, greatness it is defined by serving.  “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve” (Mark 10:45). To be great is to serve those whom God cares about.  Serving the hungry.  Healing the physically and mentally ill.  Caring for the children.  Loving the total mess up.  Forgiving the sinner.  Getting down and dirty with those whom most people in polite company would simply push away.  Dying to save those same lowly people on a cross; that is glory.  Do you want to see glory?  Look at Jesus’ life.  Do you want to be a part of glory?  Spend time next to Jesus with the lowly, the least, and the unloved, and then hang with him on the cross.

Come to think of it, that is where Jesus usually comes to look for me when I am lost.  It seems, over and over again in life, when it is most apparent that Jesus has come to rescue and heal me, it is whenever I am at my lowest.  Why does he come then?  Maybe, I am more receptive to Jesus at those times.  Or, maybe, it is because when I am low, I am precisely the person who Jesus loves to serve. 

Jesus taught, “Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and 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, and to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:43-45).

Again and again in the scriptures we see that Jesus takes the time to serve the last and the least.

Time.  Have you ever thought of time as a blessing from God?  It really is. 

Over the years during stewardship time, you have been encouraged to think about your money as a blessing and have been encouraged to give at least ten percent of it toward the ministry of Jesus Christ.  But, have you ever thought of time as a blessing from God?

God created time after-all.  God intentionally placed you within it.  And, God decided to enter into it, sending his Son Jesus to serve during his limited time on earth. 

How your time is spent is important.  Allow Jesus to draw you away from your usual notions of glory and riches.  You wanted to be close to him anyway, right?  Allow Jesus to lead you into using your time in the most life-giving way possible: using it for another person’s sake.

We modern people waste so much time on our phones, and watching our televisions, and spending time anywhere but where Jesus is begging us to follow.  But, for Jesus, life with him looks like serving others, and giving “his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).

Do you want to be near Jesus, to sit at his right and his left?  Then find him where he lives: wherever there is suffering.  There, Jesus can be seen seating on the throne of the cross. 

Reflection on Mark 10:17-31

 

All I hear in Peter’s words are exacerbation and exhaustion after Jesus instructs a questioning man and all his disciples to give up everything they own, give the money to the poor, and then follow Jesus. 

“Look, we have left everything and followed you,” Peter says. 

People usually hear Peter’s words as filled with pride about how great he is to have given up everything.  I am not so sure.  The disciples have already moaned in exacerbation, “Then who can be saved,” when told that it will be hard for the rich to enter into the kingdom of God.  It seems clear to me that Peter is continuing this sense of exacerbation.  “What more do you want from us?” Peter seems to be saying.  “Look, we have left everything and followed you.”

“What more do you want from us?” 

I have been hearing this more and more as the years go by.  Good, faithful people try and try to make a dent of goodness within their communities and, dare I say, try to bring some new faces into the pews.  But when their efforts do not seem to be doing anything, I hear the lament to God, “What more do you want from us?”

As adult sons and daughters take care of their aging and failing parents, and then they need to take care of their grandchildren, and then they need to start taking care of their own ailing health, it gets to be too much and they cry out to God, “What more do you want from us?”

The troubles of this world are a non-stop blare from our television sets, and we try to do our part.  But, so many times, doing our part to make this world a better place does not seem to make a difference.  All the while, new struggles pop up all the time.  There are always more storms, more wars, more political divisions, and they all desire our attention, and consuming our sleep.  We helplessly say to God, “What more do you want from us?”

You know what?  I do not think you are a failure, or that you lack some sort of moral character, if it is all just a little bit too much right now.  Sometimes, life is just a little bit too much, and it is OK to say so.  Things are sometimes too much.

“But, there must be something more that we can do,” we press ourselves.  “There has got to be a way to fix it all,” we say.  “What must I do?” we ask.  “What must I do?”

That is the question on the mind of the man who approaches Jesus.  He needs to know what more he can do.  “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  I can identify with this guy.  “What must I do?”  It is a good question.  It is my question.

Of course, the good, educated protestant within me immediately answers, “There’s nothing that we can do to inherit eternal life.  That is why we trust Jesus to save us.” 

See, I learning something in Sunday School.  It was not all just flannel graphs and eating crayons.  Haha, remember flannel graphs?  Just take a little cut out Jesus and stick him on the blue board!  Walla!  He is instantly walking on water.  The miracle of the flannel graph!

I am getting distracted here.  I know why.  It is because I know that the man’s question goes much deeper than just asking how to get to heaven.  It touches on those deeper struggles of life.  What he is asking is more like, “Good teacher, what do I need to do to make this life better; with less struggle; to be more holy, and to be more filled with life, and love, and laughter.”

In response, Jesus, the ever caring healer, starts with the basics.  Like a doctor trying to make sure that the low hanging fruit are not the cause of the problem: smoking, lack of exercise, forgetting to take your medicine; Jesus asks the man about the commandments.  “Do you murder?  Do you cheat on your spouse?  Do you steal?  Do you lie about your neighbors?  Do you forget to take care of your parents?”

“No, no, and no again” the man answers.  “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.”

But, being good does not necessarily make life all better, does it?  Sure, congratulations, you are not going to jail for murdering someone!  But, ask a loving caregiver of someone whose health is ailing if they ever feel free from worry and stress.

Being a really, really good person does not guarantee that you will get that “better” life.  The continued “lack” of life and vitality is precisely what gets us asking those questions that were asked at the beginning of the sermon.  “What more do you want from us Jesus?”  “What more do we need to do?”

At this point, we find some of the most wonderful words in scripture.  You see, rarely, do we ever get to hear what God feels about something.  We almost always have to guess at God’s emotions by what God does and how God reacts.  But, in a rare break in God’s façade, we get to hear how Jesus feels when he looks at tired and yearning souls such as us.  The scriptures say, “Jesus, looking at [the man], loved him.”

Can we just sit with that for a second?  When Jesus looks at us tired and struggling people, as frustrating as we must be…as blockheaded and backwards as we must act sometimes….as confused and wandering and unable to hear the words of Jesus as we are…as childlike as we act sometimes, Jesus still looks at us with nothing but love.

You are loved.  In all your struggles, you are loved.  In all the deep breaths that stem from overwhelmed souls, you are loved.  In all the wayward acts and wrong approaches that you have taken in life, thinking that they would be good, but turn out to be destructive, you are loved.  Jesus looks us, and loves us.

And, with love in those eyes, Jesus finally gives us his treatment plan: “give it up.”  “Give up the need to control it all, and follow me.”  “Trust in me.” 

You can hear this message in the answer Jesus gives to the young man with many possessions.  Jesus says, “Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”  In other words, “give up the need to control it all, and follow me.”  “Trust in me and only me,” Jesus implies.

The man is astounded at Jesus’ teaching, going away in grief because he had many possessions. 

The disciples are also astounded.   Jesus tells them that those people in the world who appear the most blessed by God with lots of wealth are no more likely to crawl their way into eternal life than a camel going through the eye of a needle.  The disciples are astounded and confused and ask, “Then who can be saved?” 

Jesus gives the same answer to them as he did the man with many possessions, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”  In other words, “Give up the need to control it all, and follow me.”  “Trust in me.”

You want to know what I hear from Jesus’ words here?  He is saying, “It is OK if you are not enough, because I am enough.” 

Have these past weeks and months been impossible?  Are you at the end of caring?  Are you all cared out?  Jesus says to you, “It is OK if you are not enough, because I am enough.”  “For God all things are possible.”

And, maybe, when you grieve enough, as the man starts to grieve as he walks away from Jesus, you will be able to let go: you will be able to let the stuff go, or you will be able to let the controlling person go, or you will be able to let your own need to control every situation in life go, and when you do, when you grieve it all and allow it to be buried for good, you will finally be able to turn around and head in a new direction.  You will finally be able to follow Jesus; to truly follow him and trust him.  And, when that happens, you will finally be able to see the living God who loves to overcome the impossible. 

You will see the living God who opens the eyes of the stubbornly blind.  You will see the living God who feeds the entire crowd from a small amount of food.  You will see the living God who overcomes all the scorn, all the struggle, and all the death.  You will see the living God who is able to overcome death on a cross.  You will finally be able to see the living God who is able to put a camel through the eye of a needle.  You will finally be able to see the living God who loves to overcome the impossible.  After-all, seeing the living God, and following the living God, makes all the difference.