Sitting here at IHOP (international house of prayer) and thinking about the issues of healing (as a focus/ministry) and what was Jesus' reason for doing it in the first place. They're praying for Terri Schiavo... for her to be healed and awaken when they take out the feeding tube.
makes me think.
The guy leading said something about Jesus being "the God of Life." But what about the 'God of death.' I know, there are so many directions to go from here, and so many principals, but just bear with my wandering thoughts... It makes me think about Solomon's words in Ecclesiastes... about it being appointed that all men will die once... Is God scared of death? Is it beyond Him?
I reflect on what I've sensed from Mark 5 from the sermons as of late at Jacob's Well. Why did Jesus heal certain folk? What was his purpose ultimately? Some he healed and instructed to go and tell what happened, while others he instructed to go and tell no one. It seems that 'healing' and 'raising the dead' wasn't an end in itself, but just a part of what it was in him bringing the Kingdom of God. He said in Matt 9:6, "so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins..."
"He came to seek and to save those who were lost." That we may know salvation --- that we may be freed --- It seems that Jesus used healing as an attention getter and a qualifier (that he was qualified to do bring the kingdom)...
Often, healing came to those (as Jairus and the bleeding woman) that were completely desperate...
[ insert some working definitions:
--> Faith : an absolute recognition of reality, and a byproduct of a right orientation to Jesus ]
...that they had been brought to/forced into by suffering, the correct understanding/recognition of reality [faith].
How does this play out when I'm not dying or bleeding persistantly?
Was the healing used to prove/convince those who yet had believed in Him? And yet didn't Jesus refuse to give some people signs/miracles because of their unbelief?
What does it look like practically to have that 'correct orientation' to Jesus when we're not dying?
(from here it led me to think about many people who have had this right recognition...
--> the apostle paul: had correct understanding of reality w/ regards to marriage (1 cor. 7) to ourselves (1 cor. 9) ...heck, all of 1 & 2 Corinthians!
--> and others...
plumbing the depths of health care issues (and the occasional funny thing too!)
3.15.2005
bring on the powder!
I went skiing with some friends a couple of weeks ago. We did the 'drive all night' thing and were pretty wasted from that, but with some sweet skiing, it made it all worthwhile. Josh, Dan, Matt, here's to ya!
3.07.2005
kingdom of God
I've given much thought recently to a certain parable that Jesus spoke of concerning a master going on a journey (Matthew 25:14-30). Until now, I believe that I missed a significant understanding of this parable and what Jesus really wanted to get across.
I listened to a message regarding the time of Lent and what he referred to as a season of absence. Although I am not really well versed in traditional church practices, the basic practice is to give up/fast from something throughout the 40 days of Lent. This 'giving-up' of something represents your sacrifice to follow Jesus, in spite of the many other competing things that could be followed. After giving something up, what then remains? One could say that Jesus is there. Another could say there is nothing. Basically, you create absence. You create space for something else. Despite the good intentions of many who practice this 'giving-up' for Lent, I think there's a good chance that many of them miss the boat. They will experience more of a "Wow, look what I just gave up for 40 days," instead of a "Wow, look what I just experienced in the absence of that other stuff."
In the parable, three servants are left by their master and entrusted with a large sum of money. Each takes his talent(s) and goes about his way. After a long time, the master returns to settle accounts with each servant. The first servant used his portion and earned double what he had. The second does the same, although given less than the first. The third digs a hole and stores it away, doing nothing with it, until the master returns. As you would guess, the master is very pleased with the first two, and very displeased with the third, even calling him a wicked, lazy servant. Perhaps influenced by our consumeristic society and even church, all I ever got out of that was that we should be responsible with the things we've been given, whether money, time, possessions or talents/abilities. Not that this is a bad understanding in any way, it just isn't the fullness of what the story is about. The first words in verse 14, "Again, it will be like..." are referring to what the Kingdom of God will be like. Well, when read with that in mind, this road is opened up some.
In many instances in the New Testament, our walk with the Lord is often like a journey. As disciples, Jesus says to follow Him, and He also later sends us out. But in this parable, the master is the one leaving. Jesus leaves, and we stay. I had never thought about it that way. Often in my Christianity, in my life following God, I have this premise that if God is close to me, or if I can feel God's presence close, then I will do better/be more productive in my walk/all in all, be more successful in my life with the Lord. Yet, I think that there's something to his absence in our lives, his lack of presence. In the parable, 'the master' leaves and entrusts his stuff/work to the servants. When he returned to settle accounts with them, he was pleased with the two who joined his work, regardless of how much it was they made. In verse 21, "His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!' " It wasn't about how much they made, but that they shared in the masters happiness. The servant who did nothing with his talent but bury it, gave it back to the master saying, "See, here is what belongs to you." He took no joy or shared ownership with the master's work.
What is significant up to this point is that this is what the Kingdom of God is like. It's not just about being responsible with our things, but that kicked up a notch and on a whole other plain. It's the Kingdom of God. It's what our life here is really about. It's what you do with whatever tools God has given and purposed you with to make an eternal difference in what matters to Him. (And if you don't know what's important to Him, it's a good place to start. )
The other significant part of this is about how I perceive God to be. I'm challenged ( yet reassured in what I've experienced) in dealing with what I perceive to be God's absence in my life. Yeah, I know that He's always with me, that the Holy Spirit is within me, but sometimes it just doesn't feel that way. I mean, I can't see Him, touch Him, or even talk to Him face to face (that could be a dangerous thing to me!). In my experience, it often feels more like I met him once, and it changed my life. I became a new person because of my encounter with him. From then on, I share in his happiness, and go about my way, trying my best to do well with my talents. Many times I receive letters and postcards from him, telling me about how he feels about me, and giving me new insights about himself and myself and the world. Sometimes those letters and postcards are frequent, and sometimes they're not. Some are more intimate, and others are more just information. But I don't fret. I know that someday, he will return to settle accounts with me. I look forward to that day, but at the same time, I'm thankful for each day that I'll have until then.
I listened to a message regarding the time of Lent and what he referred to as a season of absence. Although I am not really well versed in traditional church practices, the basic practice is to give up/fast from something throughout the 40 days of Lent. This 'giving-up' of something represents your sacrifice to follow Jesus, in spite of the many other competing things that could be followed. After giving something up, what then remains? One could say that Jesus is there. Another could say there is nothing. Basically, you create absence. You create space for something else. Despite the good intentions of many who practice this 'giving-up' for Lent, I think there's a good chance that many of them miss the boat. They will experience more of a "Wow, look what I just gave up for 40 days," instead of a "Wow, look what I just experienced in the absence of that other stuff."
In the parable, three servants are left by their master and entrusted with a large sum of money. Each takes his talent(s) and goes about his way. After a long time, the master returns to settle accounts with each servant. The first servant used his portion and earned double what he had. The second does the same, although given less than the first. The third digs a hole and stores it away, doing nothing with it, until the master returns. As you would guess, the master is very pleased with the first two, and very displeased with the third, even calling him a wicked, lazy servant. Perhaps influenced by our consumeristic society and even church, all I ever got out of that was that we should be responsible with the things we've been given, whether money, time, possessions or talents/abilities. Not that this is a bad understanding in any way, it just isn't the fullness of what the story is about. The first words in verse 14, "Again, it will be like..." are referring to what the Kingdom of God will be like. Well, when read with that in mind, this road is opened up some.
In many instances in the New Testament, our walk with the Lord is often like a journey. As disciples, Jesus says to follow Him, and He also later sends us out. But in this parable, the master is the one leaving. Jesus leaves, and we stay. I had never thought about it that way. Often in my Christianity, in my life following God, I have this premise that if God is close to me, or if I can feel God's presence close, then I will do better/be more productive in my walk/all in all, be more successful in my life with the Lord. Yet, I think that there's something to his absence in our lives, his lack of presence. In the parable, 'the master' leaves and entrusts his stuff/work to the servants. When he returned to settle accounts with them, he was pleased with the two who joined his work, regardless of how much it was they made. In verse 21, "His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!' " It wasn't about how much they made, but that they shared in the masters happiness. The servant who did nothing with his talent but bury it, gave it back to the master saying, "See, here is what belongs to you." He took no joy or shared ownership with the master's work.
What is significant up to this point is that this is what the Kingdom of God is like. It's not just about being responsible with our things, but that kicked up a notch and on a whole other plain. It's the Kingdom of God. It's what our life here is really about. It's what you do with whatever tools God has given and purposed you with to make an eternal difference in what matters to Him. (And if you don't know what's important to Him, it's a good place to start. )
The other significant part of this is about how I perceive God to be. I'm challenged ( yet reassured in what I've experienced) in dealing with what I perceive to be God's absence in my life. Yeah, I know that He's always with me, that the Holy Spirit is within me, but sometimes it just doesn't feel that way. I mean, I can't see Him, touch Him, or even talk to Him face to face (that could be a dangerous thing to me!). In my experience, it often feels more like I met him once, and it changed my life. I became a new person because of my encounter with him. From then on, I share in his happiness, and go about my way, trying my best to do well with my talents. Many times I receive letters and postcards from him, telling me about how he feels about me, and giving me new insights about himself and myself and the world. Sometimes those letters and postcards are frequent, and sometimes they're not. Some are more intimate, and others are more just information. But I don't fret. I know that someday, he will return to settle accounts with me. I look forward to that day, but at the same time, I'm thankful for each day that I'll have until then.
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