Genesis 14 – Abram Revealed

The chapter opens with a familiar story – conflict and fighting in the Middle East. This one’s a big one – nine separate armies: a coalition of four, and an alliance of five. The coalition of four armies, led by Kedorlaomer, came from a spread throughout the Fertile Crescent – southern Babylonia, northern Mesopotamia, right through to Jericho – and they’d already come and conquered before.

Once you conquer a land, you demand tribute – a bit like protection money (if you give me money and loyalty, I won’t invade you again). To stop paying tribute is to invite real trouble. From verse 4, this area had been paying tribute to Kedorlaomar for 12 years. They’ve finally jacked-up and refused to hand over their lunch-money, and the kings come in like the school bullies. They did a good job, too. They came around, down the east side of the Dead Sea, under it and up through the Siddim Valley – between Zoar and Tamar on the map. In one battle they smashed the home team. Everyone – including the five home-kings – ran for the hills. Some people running away fell into hot tar pits (think volcanic mud, but filled with asphalt and crude oil). And while everyone ran off screaming, the invaders hit the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, and, as invading armies always did – and always do – they took home everything that they could carry.

One of the things that they carry away is a man called Lot.

Lot is one person you wouldn’t stand next to in a thunderstorm – this man is a lightning-rod for disaster. Lot’s story is a horror story. And last week we saw the beginning of the horror story. If we step back into last week[1], we’ll remember that Lot’s workers were beginning to get into some push-and-shove with Abram’s workers. And that’s where we should start paying a little closer attention to Lot.

Lot was an orphan who was adopted by his grandfather. When the grandfather died, Abram stepped in and he took Lot with him. So Lot was doubly-indebted to his uncle Abram. As both his saviour and the master of his family, Lot should have lived under Abram. Instead we see his own staff fighting to make sure Lot’s animals got a good feed and drink, at the expense of Abram’s. And at that point we should really have alarm-bells ringing.

Abram, as head of his household, moves to protect his family, and he acts quickly: he removes Lot. I think there’s evidence that Abram had pretty well cut Lot out of his will – if you skip over to Genesis 15: 2-3, Abram prays to God: The one who will inherit my estate is Eliezer of Damascus… a servant in my household will be my heir. I think that Lot had clearly worn out his welcome by this stage. But how Abram deals with this nuisance-guy draws a big line between his character and Lot’s character. Abram is far from a perfect man – but his actions and reactions are changing. Abram manages to remove the troublesome Lot from his household, but he does it with love, with grace and with generosity.

Lot’s reaction tells us a lot about Lot’s heart, too. He reminds me a lot of the Prodigal Son. In Jesus’ great parable, the son had no right to make demands on the father. Here, Lot has no right to pick and choose. Rather than being thankful and giving the right of choice back to Abram, Lot looks greedily at the richest places. And he makes his choice. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t thank. Abram gives Lot a choice in grace. But there’s nothing in Lot’s response that shows that he’s aware of this – or if he is aware, that he’s thankful. And so we read – Lot looked up and saw that the whole plain of the Jordan was well watered, like the garden of the Lord, like the land of Egypt… So Lot chose for himself the whole plain of the Jordan and set out toward the east. The two men parted company: Abram lived in the land of Canaan, while Lot lived among the cities of the plain and pitched his tents near Sodom.[2]

 Both men’s decisions are beginning to reveal their character. Their decisions are beginning to reveal what they think is important, and what is in the centre of their being.

Okay. Back to Chapter 14. The four kings from the east come down and they take everything. Verses 11-12; The four kings seized all the goods of Sodom and Gomorrah and all their food; then they went away. They also carried off Abram’s nephew Lot and his possessions, since he was living in Sodom. One who had escaped ran back and reported this to Abram the Hebrew.

Abram had managed to get distance between himself and Lot. One would imagine that news of Lot’s kidnapping might well have made things easier for Abram. Chances are that Lot and his family would be sold off as slaves; that’s usually what happened, and it was a recognized (if not exactly legitimate) way to get rid of people you had problems with.[3]

It’s hard to escape the sly thought that, if their positions were reversed, Lot would have been quite happy to sit on his hands, wait for things to play out, then take some advantage.

It’s also hard to escape the sly thought that Abram, the man who, two chapters ago, tried to save his skin by passing his wife off as his sister, would be just as slippery in dealing with such a potentially dangerous situation. It would, by the way, be a good way of recovering the rich land that Lot had greedily chosen for himself. But Abram doesn’t do that. More and more, we start seeing him doing the thing that honour requires. Doing the thing that requires trust. He puts it all aside and – again – acts in grace. Once again, he acts to save Lot.

He also reveals a quality that we don’t always keep in mind when we think of Old Father Abraham. At seventy-five years old, he’s one tough warrior. I think he’s one of the Bible’s seriously hard men. Remember, this is a man who – at ninety-nine years old – will circumcise himself… He’d give Chuck Norris a run. He’s no softy.  When he gets the news that his nephew has been taken prisoner, he leads his men in a chase of well over 300km, hits the four invading armies in a night-raid, and then chases whoever is left right off the edge of most Bible maps, out past Damascus. Verse 16 - He recovered all the goods and brought back his relative Lot and his possessions, together with the women and other people.

We’re seeing an Abram that’s markedly different from the opportunistic, utterly pragmatic survivor that we saw in chapter 12. He’s beginning to show more of God’s attributes. This is more like the shepherd who would leave ninety-nine well-secured sheep to bring back the wayward one. The more that he calls upon the name of the Lord, the more his character is beginning to reflect the God he is learning to serve. And we see his character by observing his choices. His choices are – more and more – reflections of a change in his heart.

We’re starting to see an Abram who is beginning to place his trust in God – in God’s impossible promises, and in God’s faithfulness to those impossible promises.

Moving forward – verse 17: After Abram returned from defeating Kedolaomer and the kings allied with him, the king of Sodom came out to meet him in the valley of Shaveh. Then Melchizedek king of Salem brought out bread and wine. He was priest of God Most High, and he blessed Abram…

Melchizedek is one of the Bible’s real mystery-men. He appears out of nowhere, and then disappears after this quick cameo. And yet, he’s really well- remembered. In David’s great prophetic psalm we read – The Lord has sworn, and will not change His mind: “You are a priest for ever, in the order of Melchizedek.”[4] The author of Hebrews recognises how highly Melchizedek was held by Jewish thinkers, and so he uses Melchizedek to demonstrate how important Jesus is.[5] His name means king of righteousness. He’s one of the very few people to give God the title The Lord, God Most High.[6] He’s a prophet, priest and king.  He’s the king of a city called Salem – not where witches got burned, not where good cigarettes came from: eventually, Salem would become Jerusalem.

Looking back at the map, Salem was probably unaffected by the military scuffles, and Melchizedek wasn’t one of the five defeated kings. He didn’t have to be there.  But he doesn’t come as a king – he comes as priest. As the priest of God Most High, he comes with food and with a blessing from God. Abram recognises Melchizedek as the priest of God Most High, possessor of Heaven and earth. Abram recognises the gift of the blessing, and then he does the strangest thing: verse 20 –  Abram gave him a tenth of everything.  This isn’t tribute. But it IS recognition that the victory was his only at the will of God Most High. Abram knows he has been blessed, that he IS blessed, he accepts his blessing, and in submission honours God. Even though Abram has been spoken to directly by the Lord God, he is content to recognise Melchizedek’s authority under God. Abram gave him a tenth of everything. 

I don’t know whether “everything” means all the possessions that Abram brought back from battle, or everything that Abram owns. Context would probably suggest the war-spoil – it makes the most sense, particularly as in the next verse we read this… (v21)The king of Sodom said to Abram, “Give me the people and keep the goods for yourself. Generally, the spoils of war – people, property, treasure – belonged to whoever won them… so the king of Sodom isn’t being quite as generous as it sounds. But this is pragmatism, and it sums up the heart of Sodom… expediency, deal-making, the gaining of political advantage… This old man appears out of nowhere, takes on four armies, rolls them and drags back everything that was stolen. This guy is strong… a lot stronger than we are. How can I gain some advantage? So, rather than showing any thanks for saving him and his kingdom from powerful enemies, he tries to cut a deal. Really, it’s back to paying tribute of a sort. 

          Abram’s reaction to the king of Sodom is rare… and I wish we saw more of it today. He accepts the blessing of God’s priest, but he will not accept a red cent from this corrupt king. Nobody but God alone will get the credit for Abram’s blessings. He’s happy for his allies to have their share of the goods brought back from the battle, but as for Abram himself, he accepts nothing from a corrupt kingdom. Some things just bring their own corruption – just ask Lot – and Abram won’t have anything to do with it. A gift from someone always looking for gain is very rarely a gift but an investment. Abram’s reply is emphatic: I have raised my hand to God Most High, Creator[7] of heaven and earth, and have taken an oath that I will accept nothing belonging to you – not even a thread or the thong of a sandal – so that you will never be able to say, “I made Abram rich.”

 

I think, on average, we’re getting better and better at submitting to God in our need. We’re learning to bring ourselves to the foot of the cross with our needs, our desires, our wants, our pain, our sins… but as I read Genesis 14,I have a question. And it’s a question that I’m forced to ask myself as much as challenge anyone else with. How do we deal with grace? How do we deal with victory? With a massive answer to prayer? With a big win? With great and unexpected blessing?

There’s something huge running underneath the surface here. How Abram, Lot, and the king of Sodom act here is really revealing: what do these men do when they are faced with grace? How do they deal with the saving mercy of God? What do they do when – against all odds – things go right? Where does their character take them when they face the blessings of God?

Have a quick flick through from verse 17 to the end of the chapter… how do we see Lot’s thankfulness? We don’t see it. We don’t see Lot – actually, we don’t see him at all until Genesis 19. So it might be just a little unfair to pick on Lot; just because we don’t have a thank-you note from him in the text, doesn’t mean that he didn’t say thank-you to his uncle. But his thankfulness was never mirrored in his action. When we encounter him next in Genesis 19:1, we find that Lot was sitting in the gateway of the city of Sodom. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s been gifted with salvation. Despite the evil done in Sodom, despite the great risks associated with living there, despite the fact that he’d been given every proof that his choice to settle here was clearly a bad one… he stayed. And he wasn’t even camping outside the city walls anymore. He’d moved in.

Never, ever, dear Lord, let this be us.

Do we understand how rare and precious a gift it is to be able to repent? Do we see all that God has blessed us with? The answers to prayers, and the answers to prayers we should have prayed but never did… ? Do people who work with us and walk with us ever see us as being thankful people? Grateful people? Do they see anything at all that marks us – defines us – as children of grace, rescued by Christ and adopted by God? If nobody can see it… if, despite everything, all we desire is the pretty lights, the rich plains and the lovely corruption… then we are truly, truly, in a perilous place.

The king of Sodom showed why he would’ve excelled at politics. When he was blessed by having his enemies wiped out, I don’t think he even saw the blessing. I think he saw Abram as a very strong man, and a powerful rival. How do you neutralise a rival? Try to put them in your debt… give me the people and keep the goods for yourself. He’s paying tribute at the beginning of the passage. Now, rather than being thankful, rather than blessing, he reverts back to paying tribute, but for all the wrong reasons. If I let you keep the goods… you owe me.

          Never, ever look at your service to the Lord like this. Never view your prayer life as an investment. I’ve prayed for… God owes me. Never look at giving our money, or our time, or our skills, or our resources like this. I’ve payed for… God owes me. Don’t do good deeds in the hope or the expectation that God will pay us back for being good – because we’re just not that good. I know that there are a lot of really attractive and persuasive preachers who teach this… But be careful. Please be careful.

Abram. What do we make of Abram? Right through the chapter, we see more and more evidence of a man who’s changing. We see a man making choices not purely for himself. We don’t see the ruthless, self-saving pragmatics of Chapter 12. Instead, we see the ruthless defence of a member of his own family – even one who has given him grief. We don’t see the man who ran to Egypt to get food. Instead we see a man trusting the God who promised him land and descendents. We see a man whos actions show us that he is a strong leader, a capable warrior, a rich and successful man… and one who understands submission.

His actions are changing. He’s still not perfect, and we’ll see that as we move on. But he trusts the Lord God. And he’s doing the things that a man of faith – a man who trusts God – will do. He may have been spoken to directly by God, but he is humble before a priest of God. He gives a tenth, not because it would secure the blessings of God, not because of a law that said so, but in gratitude to God who gave him the victory.

A passage like this both heartens me and bruises me. I’d love to say that’s me. I’d love to be able to say, honestly, that I’ve submitted to God enough for changes like that to be constantly visible to others. To my family. To colleagues, to strangers. I’d love to. I’d love to be able to show you how I serve my family as I lead them. Truth be told, I’m a long way from home in this. I need God’s powerful grace – the grace that allows me to be a new creation. I need to keep submitting to the will of the Father to be like Jesus, but I need the power of the Spirit. I’d love to be able to mock Lot’s unrepentant spirit more effectively, but I recognise that there’s so much of Lot’s lot still in me.

Lord, have mercy on us. Spare us, good Lord. Good Lord, deliver us. Hear us, good Lord. 

Long for the day – strive for the day – hunger and thirst and pine and grow faint for the day when we will be like Jesus, perfect and blameless and presented to him by God the Father. Submit our selves, our hearts and our souls and our wills and our minds and our strength – submit them to God, to the service of God. Submit our blessings and our hopes to Him.

When Paul wrote to the Roman church, he knew that there were a lot of Gentiles. But he gave them Abraham as a great model for faith. Don’t shy away from Abram’s example here. Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed[8]… His faith in God’s faithfulness is, finally, bearing fruit.

Oh Lord, let it be so for me. Thank you for your grace, your Son’s grace, that you have snatched us from the fire. Let your Spirit change our stubborn hearts, regenerate our stained and dirty souls, cleanse us from all unrighteousness. Show us how to not just be repentant at heart, but repentant in mind and in soul and in strength. Show us how to keep our whole spirit, soul and body sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

 The God who calls you is faithful, and He will do it.[9]

Amen.

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[1] Genesis 13:7[2] Genesis 13:10-11[3] Genesis 37, for example: the selling of Joseph by his own brothers. Not just in ancient days – the Scottish reformer John Knox spent a few months as a galley-slave on board a ship.[4] Psalm 110:4 This is the one that begins: The Lord says to my Lord: “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet” cf Mt22:41-6, Mk12:35-7, Lk20:41-4, Ac2:34-6 – as well as Hebrews expounding this psalm (Heb 4-7).

[5] Hebrews 4:1-7:28 is essentially a study of Psalm 110.

[6] El-Elyon Four times in this passage, and only one Psalm appearance in the OT.

[7] Creator (v19, v22 NIV) can also be translated Possessor (ESV). In the context of possessions stolen, rescued, offered and refused, Possessor would be the best word. Bible translators seem divided 50/50 in this.

[8] Romans 4:18

[9] 1 Thessalonians 5:24

 

Real Righteousness

A guy called Michael Hart wrote a book called The 100. He rated the 100 most influential people in history. Controversially, and against everybody’s expectation, Hart’s winner wasn’t Jesus. It was Muhammed.

Jesus wasn’t even the runner-up – that award went to Isaac Newton.

Jesus Christ, the only and unique Son of God, the defeater of Satan, sin and death, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world… came third.

Second place wasn’t hard to justify, because gravity is pretty important for everything, apart from perhaps Pentecostal hands (which seem to be immune from the stuff). But Mohammed? First?  My gut-reaction was, quite simply, “tell him he’s dreamin’”. Here was the kicker, though.

Michael Hart looked at how followers follow the teaching of their master. He saw that across the globe, Islamic people are far more faithful to the teachings of Mohammed than Christians are to the teaching of Christ. Here’s what he says. He’s referencing Matthew 5:43-48 – specifically, the command to love ones’ enemies:

These are surely among the most remarkable and original ethical ideas ever presented. If they were widely followed I would have no hesitation in placing Jesus first in this book. But the truth is that they are not widely followed. Indeed, they are not even actually generally accepted. Most Christians consider the injunction to love your enemy as at most an ideal which might be realised in some perfect world, but one which is not a reasonable guide to conduct in the actual world we live in.

We do not normally practice love for our enemies, we do not expect others to practice it, we do not teach our children to practice it. Jesus’ most distinctive teaching therefore remains an intriguing but basically untried suggestion.[1]

Ouch.

What does it look like to be a disciple, a follower, a Christian? What should the design of a disciple look like?

Exceeding Beyond…

Where to start? Verse 20 – “unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, there is no way you will enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”[2]

The Greek here is even more emphatic – Unless your righteousness exceeds beyond[3] that of the Scribes and Pharisees…

We’re pretty comfortable with that, because we’ve seen the movie, and we know that the scribes and the Pharisees are the bad boys. Right? Not quite…

The scribes and the Pharisees were seen as the standard of righteousness – they were famous for it. That was their job. People listening to Jesus would have looked to these scribes and Pharisees to see what righteousness looked like, to see the design of a good, obedient godly person. Much to the peoples’ surprise, Jesus says that this righteousness is insufficient – it’s not good enough. So the obvious question follows: “is there a difference between righteousness and righteousness?” Good question.

Let’s say I drop a glass by accident. There’s lots of glass on the floor. Being an old glass, it’s shattered into slivers, and it’s gone into the carpet. That makes it very hard to find the pieces. That’s not good, because I have little kids. So I say to them, don’t come into the room.

Benny looks at me, and I say Danger really carefully. He blinks, says danger, and goes away. He goes and watches Iggle-piggle and Makka-Pakka, counts frogs… Grace is still there, though. And she edges right up to the door.

Now, I know Gracie – she will push the line, so I have to make a line for her. She edges up to the door. I tell her there’s glass in the carpet, gorgeous, and it’ll shred her feet. I want to help you, Daddy – she goes and gets a pair of shoes. No – it’s too dangerous. Don’t come into the room. But I really know my daughter. I need to tell her don’t go past this line. And she needs to know, too… And she’ll do everything she can to get right up on that line. And she’ll wonder – and ask – if on the line counts as being over the line… you get the picture.

She doesn’t physically cross that line… but she’ll do everything she can to push me. She’s obedient in form, she’s obedient to the letter… she hasn’t disobeyed me. But…

But… It’s all about the line.

There’s a difference between the righteousness of Gracie and the righteousness of Benny, who’s just gone okay, Dad and toddled off. There’s a big, big difference between the righteousness of being compliant and the righteousness of being joyfully obedient. There’s a big difference between the righteousness of the Pharisees and the righteousness that God is asking for.

Faithful Righteousness

“You’ve heard it said that that ‘You shall not commit adultery’”[4]. Well, that’s pretty easy to figure out if you’ve crossed that line or not, isn’t it? Excellent – we shouldn’t have any problems, then, and it shouldn’t raise its head as an issue. Right? Besides which, only half of you are married. No problems…

You know better. But, just for the record, this is how seriously Jesus takes it. Listen to his language…

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.

If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body go into hell.”[5]

That’s pretty extreme. And that’s twice he’s talked about hell. His choice of word in the Greek adds a bit of richness to the mix here – the word is Gehenna, and it was the garbage-dump of Jerusalem. It’s where the dead horses and dead dogs and dead humans ended up, along with everything else. This is a city with no flush-buttons and no rolls of toilet paper, and a summer temp regularly above the thirties. Things caught fire and smouldered for days. It was famous for its flies. Get the picture?

Clever picture, too – throw away your eye before your whole body ends up being thrown into the garbage-dump. If you have to, throw your hand into the garbage before your whole body ends up there… and if your body does end up there, it’s because you’re dead. You’re out there with the flies.

I’m not advocating that we start physically hacking off pieces of our own bodies like something out of a SAW movie. Let’s face it, I wouldn’t be able to turn the pages up here, and you wouldn’t be able to see me… because I’d have had to chop my legs off, too…

But… that’s a hard-core, violent picture that he paints, isn’t it? If something is going to drag you into sin, get rid of it. Get it out of your life. Lose it. Chop it off, pluck it out, unplug it, de-program it, cancel the account, get a new SIM-card and number for it if you have to… This is serious, Jesus uses deadly-serious language, and we need to pay attention at the very least to how seriously Jesus comes out swinging against adultery.

Let’s get something straight – Jesus isn’t talking about a situation here where somebody walks by, and our eyes catch a glimpse, and little bits of us go… hey! The Lord God made man, and He made woman, and He stood back and saw that it was good[6]… The first time I saw Fiona, my Adam’s apple just about did a cartwheel… Okay, that’s one thing. There’s a difference between that and what Jesus is talking about here. Again, going to the Greek is pretty helpful… everyone looking upon a woman with a view to desire[7] has already committed adultery in his heart.

A view to desire. That implies more than a casual glance, doesn’t it? And that’s a different kettle altogether.

Let’s not be mucking around here. If there’s something that constantly provides a pathway for you to sin here…

…to slide from merely being tempted to being a promise-breaker…

Because that’s the worst bit about adultery – it’s not just about the sex or the misuse of sex. There’s that line again. There’s the righteousness of the Pharisees. This is beyond the mere sex. The fact is, adultery is a promise-breaking sin.  It’s an act that breaks vows, and that’s something that flies hard in the face of God’s character.

You’ve made a solemn vow and promise to your wife or husband – and you’ve made that promise in the presence of God. God is a God of promises, and a God of faithfulness to promises. You want to know how highly God thinks of marriage and the strength of those promises?

How often does He use the language of marriage when he describes Israel, the church, His people, His Son…? The relationship between God and Israel is often described as a marriage in the Old Testament, and Israel’s unfaithfulness to God is described in the most ripping, painful language. Homework – read the book of Hosea. That’s a frighteningly painful book to read. And if you’ve been the victim of adultery, if you’ve had someone cheat on you, you’ll understand how it just resonates with God’s pain as His people abandon Him – and you feel it.

If you’ve made a promise to someone in God’s name, then for God’s sake, keep it.

For those of us who haven’t made those promises to another yet… let me say this. Take this seriously, too. You need to understand exactly how important, how sacred, how preciously God regards this bond. Treat it with that respect. Don’t even begin to approach that line in anyone else’s promise. Live like you’ve already made a promise to a beloved one.

If you can master these temptations now, while you’re still young, you’re on a path that will set you up well for later. It won’t be easy. Just a walk through Miranda Fair will prove that. But if you can master the temptations now, you’re on the way.

Obedience – compliance – says “you shall not commit adultery”.

Righteousness says you are an example to the world of what faithfulness looks like. Both godly faithfulness to each other, and the kind of faithfulness that marks God Himself – the faithfulness of God to His word and His people.

Got it? Let’s move back to verse 21.

Murder One

Okay. Verse 21… You’ve heard that it was said to the people long ago, “Do not murder”[8], and “anyone who murders will be subject to judgment”.

That’s that line again. But what leads up to the line? Let’s listen to Jesus again: “’Whoever murders will be subject to judgment‘ – but I tell you that…

anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment;

anyone who says to his brother Raca is answerable to the Sanhedrin;

Anyone who says you fool will be in danger of the fire of hell.

That’s quite a sliding-scale, isn’t it? In the eyes of God, whoever is angry with his brother is on an equal footing with a murderer – judgment. Call a brother brainless, you’re up before the Supreme Court. Call your brother a fool – you’re standing on the edge of hell… Now that kind of talk just plain frightens people… GOOD! That’s the point, really.

There’s something here that makes me squirm. I think what really makes me squirm is that we live in a culture where even when we’re being friendly – especially when we’re being friendly – we’ll regularly couch our language with terms of contempt or derision. We use some pretty deadly terms as affectionate name-tags, but they’ve got an edge to them. You’re such a loser… Oh, that’s just so lame… gay… and I haven’t really started yet, have I?

Here’s a measure of the depth of this world’s corruption. Even when we speak with love and affection, our language is absolutely shot through with terms of contempt, arrogance, poison. We don’t have to be angry with someone to do a killing job on them.

Be careful. Even among our closest friends… Part of Australian knockabout culture is a brand of fun that hooks into paying-out. Somebody makes a mistake, says something the wrong way,  laughs weird, wears a pink shirt, repeatedly wears a T-shirt saying “I Am The Stig”, and we just mercilessly pound that person for days, weeks, months. And the worst part is that if the poor sucker is actually hurt, he can’t say much – because it’s only a joke, right? We’ve made a really sharp hook for a brother or sister to hang off, and we’ve left them with no way to get off.

Let me tell you something. It’s not that far a jump from talking to a brother or a sister like that, to the beginnings of holding them that way in our heart – even if it’s a little bit. If we’re comfortable with using that language to each others’ faces… maybe we’ve got some quiet contemplation and repenting to do. Maybe I do – I will confess, I find the whole paying-out thing pretty easy, pretty quick, pretty fun.

Jesus then gives us two practical demonstrations, two ways that show how righteousness happens, what righteousness looks like. In the first example, he puts us in a position where we’re in conflict with a brother or a sister. The other is a situation where we’re in conflict with someone who is most definitely NOT a brother or a sister. Here’s the trick – Jesus carefully paints two pictures, and in both scenarios there is actually no suggestion that we actually need to apologise.

There’s no suggestion that we’re in the wrong. For all we can tell, we’ve been accused falsely.

 If you are offering your gift at the altar, and while you are there, remember that your brother has something against you [notice, not that you have some outstanding issue against that brother…] leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.

Whether or not I’ve been wronged, Jesus has made it my responsibility to make things right. Sacrifices to God can wait – says God – until the heart is right. And here is righteousness that exceeds beyond. See it?

Again, looking to the other example; if someone wants to have a crack at us – whether we deserve it or not – do everything to make amends with them before you get to a place where others will judge. What’s that got to do with murder?

If I’m penalised unjustly, how hard is it going to be for me to think compassionately of my accuser? Or am I likely to languish in that prison, growing a little plant of bitterness? You have heard it said by the ancients, “You shall do no murder” – the righteousness of the Pharisees, and the line of the law – but I tell you that everyone who is angry with his brother is in danger of the same judgment as someone who has gone and murdered. The righteousness that God requires of me means that I have to keep my heart so far away from that place. Not just a matter of keeping on this side of the line, but keeping our hearts in a way that the line isn’t even approached.

Blessed are the peacemakers, blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake.

Here’s the hard part – here’s the part that’s always going to hurt.

Here’s part of what the design of a disciple should look like. Here’s the unbelievable.

 The Unbelievable…

Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, life for life.[9] Sounds like a pretty brutal code, doesn’t it?

It’s pretty natural, it’s how we measure justice. We know instinctively that if someone does wrong, they must make some sort of restitution. Whether it’s a criminal through the judicial system or a bully getting expelled, there is some visceral satisfaction in the knowledge that there’s been some form of punishment, of payback. Getting even means exactly that. Levelling the score means exactly that. Our instinct is to repay with a little bit of interest, too – adding insult to injury means exactly that.

The idea of simply rolling over when someone’s taking a shot at us is… well, it’s stupid. Certainly, in the eyes of anyone around us, it’s a sign of weakness, an opportunity to invite exploitation. Make no mistake, there is nothing natural about anything that Jesus is suggesting here.

Verse 38 – If someone smashes you on the cheek – physically assaults you – it’s our natural instinct is to either flatten them or run away and get someone else to. But Jesus says no – do no harm to your enemy.

Verse 39 – if someone tries to take the shirt off your back (and, incidentally, there were laws to stop an Israelite suing anyone out of their clothes, so this person is seriously out of line and deserves a clocking), give him more. Context – coat gone, cloak gone – you’re in the nuddy, now.

You have given your enemy everything that you physically have. That’s madness! It’s irresponsible to the rest of your family and loved ones! And it’s what Jesus asks.

Verse 42 – someone once said to me that if someone borrows $50 off you and you never see them again, it was probably money well-spent. This is different. Turn nobody away.

 This gets down so much into who we are – it’s so much more than what we do. Unless a genuine, Christ-driven love for our enemies is part of who we are, we’ll never be able to do this. As a matter of fact, we’ll never be able to understand it. We’ll never see the why.

Ask yourself a question – do you want to see the person who has wronged you the most – cut you the deepest – ruined your world… do you want to see them in Heaven with God the Father and the risen Lord Jesus?

There’s nothing amazing about loving your friends. There’s nothing easy about loving your enemy, and sometimes the only assurance we can possibly have is that it’s exactly what Christ has done… for me. An old enemy of God, a rebel, a usurper who wanted no sovereign hand over me… an enemy of God. But Jesus loved His enemy.

Let me take you to Rome, when Paul’s letter was being read out. I want you to feel the force of these words like when they were new:

…while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.

For one will scarcely die for a righteous person-though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die-but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.[10]

Jesus asks us to do the unbelievable. Jesus asks us to do the completely unnatural. Jesus asks us to be a people whose lives are visibly defined by his grace. Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

I want to challenge you with what we heard at the start, and compare it to Paul’s idea.

“We do not normally practice love for our enemies, we do not expect others to practice it, we do not teach our children to practice it. Jesus’ most distinctive teaching therefore remains an intriguing but basically untried suggestion.”

 

…while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person-though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die-but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

 Amen.

 

Notes:

All Scripture quotations from the English Standard Version

All Greek quotations from the Nestle-Aland Novum Testamentum Graece, 27^th ed.

 

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[1] Michael H. Hart, The 100: A Ranking of the Most Influential Persons in History. London: Simon & Schuster; 1993. p 20-21

[2] All Scripture quotes from the ESV.

[3] …perisseuse he dikaiosune humin pleion ton grammateon kai farisaion…

[4] Jesus was quoting from Exodus 20:13, Deut 5:18

[5]   Matthew 5:27-30

[6]   Genesis 1:31

[7]  pros to epithumesai auten

[8] Exodus 20:13, Deuteronomy 5:17

[9] Exodus 21:23-5

[10] Romans 5:6-11

Bible @ the Bowlo: STAND!

Blokes love a good war story. ANZAC Day is a day when we get to hear a lot of stories, most of which are true, most of which are horrible if you listen with the right set of ears. Some war stories become the stuff of legend. And some war stories just get told the once…

One of the almost-forgotten stories of the campaign on the Western Front came to light very recently. A Tasmanian minister who signed up for the First World War, Lieutenant Frank Bethune found himself and his seven men in a horribly exposed position in a place called Passchendaele. Passchendale was about as horrific a place as you’d get on the Western Front. Passchendale killed 3000 men a day – the place ate men. If you weren’t shot or shelled or bombed or gassed, the ground itself could kill you… the mud drowned thousands and thousands. Bethune was no stranger to war at this point – he’d already received the Military Cross, had been wounded twice and gassed once. And now he was stuck. His orders were to hold this position. And this is what he told his men:

1. This position will be held, and the section will remain here until relieved.
2. The enemy cannot be allowed to interfere with this programme.
3. If the section cannot remain here alive, it will remain here dead, but in any case it will remain here.
4. Should any man, through shell shock or other cause, attempt to surrender, he will remain here dead.
5. Should all guns be blown out, the section will use Mills grenades, and other novelties.
6. Finally, the position, as stated, will be held.

Eighteen days later, the seven men of Number 1 Section, 3^rd Machine Gun Company were finally relieved. Lieutenant Bethune’s orders summed up courage, tenacity and dedication to the mission so vividly that they were widely circulated through Allied France, and were formally embodied in British Army Orders until 1940.

Churchill revived the memory in World War II. Following Dunkirk and his “We Shall Fight” speech, Churchill ordered Bethune’s six points to be reprinted millions of times on leaflets and posters – “the spirit that won the last war” was held high for all to see. The Australian War Memorial has Lieutenant Bethune’s hand-written original, torn from his gridded notebook [that's the picture on this page]..

It raised a couple of questions in my mind… partly because it’s so dramatically different to the war-story speeches that I’ve grown up with. For those who’ve read the classics, Homer gave his characters brilliant speeches; today’s movie-makers do the same thing. One of the important ingredients in the formula is the Inspiring Speech as the men prepare to commit themselves to combat. But – if Bethune’s orders are any guide – they’re probably more fictional than we’d like to believe.

The biggest question that came to my mind was simply this: What would I say to someone about to enter a battlefield? What would you tell a man before he faces the certainty of great injury and loss? Soldiers generally know what they have to do, where they have to be, – the tactics have been worked out and rehearsed, that’s what training is for. So you’re not going to be telling them anything new. What do you say to a man about to face real combat?

Well, you’ve said it. It’s what you’ve been doing for the last half-an-hour. You’ve been sitting next to men who do this every day.

Whenever we step into the real world, each of us steps onto a battlefield, and – unlike Bethune’s men – most of us don’t even have the luxury of comrades at our sides. We go to war, gentlemen. Every morning when we leave our houses, we go to war. It isn’t a war of our making, we didn’t declare war. Soldiers don’t declare war, but we do have to fight. And mostly we have to fight solo.

If you’ve read Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, you might have noticed that he often uses the language of war. He writes to people as if they’re about to enter the battlefield, or at least the Arena. Reading Bethune’s orders aloud reminds me very much of this passage:

“Put on the full armour of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.” [Ephesians 6:13]

A few years ago I was running a Mister Minit shop, and an old man came up to the counter. He was looking for a piece of leather thonging, to replace one for a necklace. He showed me what was hanging round his neck. One bullet, and one shell casing. There was something about the way he held the bullet and the casing that said in big loud letters – there’s a story behind this, isn’t there?

The bullet was pulled out of his thigh. It flew out of the jungle in Papua New Guinea – came from a Japanese Arisaka rifle, slammed into his leg. The shell casing came from his own rifle – he sent a bullet back into the bush, heard a yell – but he never found the sniper that tried to take him out. He retreated along the Kokoda Track with the brass in his body. He never heard another shot the whole way. He walked those 96 kilometres never knowing if he’d stopped his enemy, or if his enemy was lurking in the bushes waiting for him again. Somehow he found that just as terrifying as combat itself. And yet… at the end of that long and deadly walk, his proudest achievement was being able to… stand.

And to me it sums up our war. Paul phrases it well – and he doesn’t use the war language of massed troops standing shoulder-to-shoulder with our comrades. All we have is the armour that the Lord offers us and the prayers and support of each other. Our enemy knows the rules that we live by, and fights with no rules to restrict him. He fights dirty. He fights dirty. We get attacked by surprise, by ambush. At work we have the battles of office politics, of little lies, of compromise, of putting self-interest above truth. But, like Bethune’s men, we must stand our ground – and after we have done everything, we stand.

Some of us find the battle outside relative easy to fight, only to find that the insurgency has put a roadside bomb in our minds. We can handle the battle at work – we might even have a Christian workplace – but the battle of the brain is just as lethal, and the enemy is in our head with us.. Again, Paul sums up really well – this time to the Romans:

“For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in the members of my own body, waging war against the law of my mind…” [Romans 7:22-3]

And some of us in the room will find this one the hardest one to fight. It’s my hardest battle. God has blessed me with a beautiful family – Fiona and three amazing kids. This church is a lot like a large family. God has blessed me with a beautiful wife and kids. So where does the devil put the roadside bomb? Exactly.

I have no doubts that Paul was describing the battle that a lot of mature Christians go through, and this is the battlefield where a lot of good Christian men bleed and lie broken. Physical or mental illness, depression, exhaustion… It’s the battlefield inside our own skulls and inside our rib-cages.

Make no mistake. We go to war.

But… we go to war, knowing well that the war is won, that the victory was made possible by the death – and the return from death – of our Lord Jesus. No matter how bloody the battle, we are saved… by shed blood and by love and by grace, we are saved! But it’s still our job to help each other stand, to listen to each other, to talk and to pray with and pray for each other. The author of Hebrews phrased this beautifully:

“Encourage one another daily, while it is called ‘Today,’ lest any of you be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin” [Hebrews 3:13]

I think we’ve wussed-up the word encourage over the years. Encourage isn’t like “Little Timmy played his first game, and mum gave him lots of encouraging smiles.” To encourage here is to give courage to each other. It’s a muscular word. Give Courage! Now!

While it is called “Today”.

Churchill used to look over all sorts of minute details and plans throughout the length of both world wars, and if he saw one that required some urgency, he would belt it with a big rubber stamp – “Action This Today.”

Giving each other courage is one of the most important things that as Christian men we can do for one another. And this is something that we must stamp heavily with “Action This Today.” 

This is why I love times like this – this is where we get to meet, to share with other men how our battles have gone, to ask for prayer and to pray for each other before we go back into the fray. It’s like a cease-fire, a break from battle. And it’s where we give each other strength, and get strength from each other. It’s not just coming to listen to someone speak, and it’s not just about having a good dinner like a heart-attack on a plate. So thank you for coming! Days like this help me to stand, and they help to bring peace.

 

Because, although we go to war, we go in peace. We go to a fight but we have to bring love. The world of men demands ruthlessness and cold efficiency to get results (or at least achieve satisfactory outcomes) – we bring mercy and forgiveness to the battle’s floor. I’ll finish, again with Paul, who wrote some of the best mission orders to hear before battle:

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other, and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.” [Colossians 3:12-17]

 

Image courtesy of the Australian War Memorial

Semper Fidelis

I’m tempted to tell a story. But I won’t.

We get bombarded with far too many stories. The news media give us disjointed and incomplete stories – the bits for itching ears, with little context, lest we get bored and change channel or turn the page. Movies want to tell stories, and some do it better than others. Excellent prose fiction will produce satisfying stories (or at the least stories well-told, even when there really is no story).

And some stories simply never get told. The true stories where the main characters would prefer no fuss. Where the story is by no means dramatic, where there is little in the way of heart-pounding suspense, no conflict-climax-resolution, no grand denouements. Just low-level, quiet, day-to-day faithfulness and servanthood.

So I won’t tell you a story. I’ll just point to where a story lies.

Dr Ron Bonamy has no computer, so chances are good that he’s not aware that I’m writing this. Dr Bonamy is a man who understands Semper Fidelis… Ever Faithful. Low-level, quiet, day-to-day servanthood and service? Here is a man who can show you how.

Not just because he’s a Doctor of Medicine – which he is (as things would have it, he was the first thing I ever saw… he pulled me out into the world. He was the first one to give me a smack, too).

Not just because he’s a Doctor of Divinity, which he also is (and has been blessing people with his wise and eloquent preaching at Gymea Anglican for many years).

Yesterday there was a party in honour of his Bible study group. He has led it, almost unbroken, for fifty years.

Fifty years.

Initially founded after the Billy Graham Crusade in Sydney, Australia, this group has kept meeting in the same house – his house, once a week for fifty years. And, with his quiet and gentle wisdom, he has led them through the deep, deep paths of Scripure. He produces his own notes, he does his own research, he takes his time… three years to go through the Gospel according to Matthew… and he teaches – he teaches the grace, the love, the mercy, the authority, the justice of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit.

And he taught my mum and my dad. They are the spring chickens of the group – they’ve only been going for thirty years or so – but through Dr Bonamy’s relentless, humble service they have learned the grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ. They’d disappear for a couple of hours every Thursday night. And while I sneaked a look at Miami Vice, and raided the ice-cream and phoned strange girlfriends, they learned.

They learned about the grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ. They have learned the love of God. They have learned the fellowship of the Holy Spirit.

And they taught me.

I owe the Doctor a great deal. He would never see it that way, which is one more measure of this man’s grace…

Thank you, Doctor. Thank you for your faithfulness to the Lord your God. Thank you for your faithfulness to His Word. Thank you for your faithfulness to the people He placed under your care.

Semper Fidelis, Doctor. Semper Fidelis.

Opening Up

“How should we then live?”

Francis Schaeffer’s question is a good one. The prophet Micah had a ready answer – “He has shown you, o man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, love mercy and walk humbly with your God?” But, like an answer from a parent or a lecturer in doctrine, it’s answering a question with a question. How do you?  How do I? It’s a dirty world out there…

I want to explore the everyday and the ordinary as much as the stark and the startling. Because I suspect that it’s in the day-to-day where we wrestle the hardest.

I don’t have all the answers. I can suggest some, but I want you to share your thoughts and your wrestles as well. The benefit, I hope, is that  – as a community who share in the great grace of Christ – we can share a little joy, a little pain, a little help, a litle love.

Thanks for coming the journey.

Dave

Note: Artwork is by a brilliant digital artist in North Carolina, Billy Frank Alexander. Click for his art gallery at http:// stockxpert.com/browse_image/profile/BillyRuth3  or for more of his freely available art, visit http://www.sxc.hu/profile/ba1969 It’s good to support Christians in the visual arts, especially when they reflect the Lord, his Son and his Spirit as Billy’s does.