Tag Archives: humanity

Neediness

I’ve all but reached the grand finale in the book of Luke.  I know the events leading up to Jesus’s final hours, how he taught in the temple, and slept on the Mount of Olives, all too well, and yet things are remarkably not as the seem (21:34-38).

Wa church members worshiping in Yunnan.

The wonderful thing about scripture is that our own context always alters its meaning, lifting certain moments out of obscurity.

That…and the Holy Spirit, of course.

And so this morning as I find myself lamenting the divisions of my Church in America, as well as the fledging churches in China, I am humbled to see how Jesus surrounded himself with (unlikely) broken beings.  I think of Peter in his denial, Judas in his betrayal, and what rings true is not the prowess of Jesus’s twelve, but rather their inability to understand, their fears, their selfishness-in short, their humanity.

Rural church in the mountains of Yunnan.

The other morning as my friend and I reflected on the passage about the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years (Luke 8), she remarked wisely that Jesus responds to people with authentic need.  How true that is, I think, for all throughout scripture we see people who in humbling themselves before Jesus, their hearts have already been cured in that they’ve found their way to humility, servanthood, and faith.  Therefore, they are freed of their burdens, cured of their disease, and fully healed.

Meanwhile we who feel we have bigger fish to fry, we who, like the disciples, no sooner have we received Jesus’ sweet communion do we start to quibble about who among us is greatest (Luke 22:14-30) and who shall be saved, we mistakenly see ourselves as without need.  Jesus famously says in the fifth chapter of Luke that those who are well have no need of healing, and that he’s come to call not the righteous but the sinners to repentance (5:31).

Surely Jesus was being sarcastic about those healthy, righteous people, right?  Oh, what I wouldn’t give to hear the tone of some of these one-liners!

Context, my friends.  And thank God for the Holy Spirit.

Mandarin Bible with Dai translation notes.

As I read about that Holy meal this morning in modern China, that famous last supper, what strikes me today is not only the communion Jesus offers to all of us so greatly in need, but how that last meal is tainted with the foreshadowing of betrayal.  We will all succumb to the lie in life that we’re healthy, shiny got-it-all-together disciples, and only when that lie comes apart at the seams do we find ourselves crawling back to Jesus.

So today I’m praying that God would make me ever aware of my own fragility, that I’ll stick to a life of groveling, crawling, and humbling myself–in short, the life where I belong.  And that the humanity of others would only make me see myself more clearly, more accurately, and that would only make me cling, in my neediness to Jesus.

Sounds like another job for the Holy Spirit!

Inside a Wa church in Yunnan province. All photos by Evan Schneider.
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From Jesus’ perspective

Some reflections on Luke chapters 17-19:

I suppose it’s only natural that when reading the scriptures, we, in all our brokenness and humanity, rarely consider the perspective of Jesus.  We rarely put ourselves in his place to consider how he felt, how he lived, how he died.

And most of the time, I think that’s a good thing.  

I mean, we are none other than those to whom he is telling parable after parable, his doubting Thomases, his eager, but altogether feeble Peters.  We, like his faithful twelve, had we been there, would not have understood either when he proclaimed his impending death, the darkness that was to come, the terrible suffering of the Son of Man.

A view of the Li River in Guangxi, Guilin.

But today I’m still left wondering how it felt for Jesus, being fully human, to bear that cross, and here I’m speaking figuratively, rather than literally.  Is it not another condition of our humanity to feel so deeply the pain of rejection, the uneasiness of misunderstanding, and the frustration, the exasperation of trying to explain oneself to others who cannot possibly understand or in this case, even conceive of one’s circumstances?

It leaves me even more in awe of our Lord to consider that in his final days he never gave up on us, he never forsake those tired, faulty disciples, but rather continued to preach and teach, to comfort and to charge, in the face of death and uncertainty.  Sometimes I forget how deeply Jesus understands us, because he truly lived among us, felt our rejection, and yet never turned away from us.

So it is that considering the perspective of Jesus brings me to my knees this morning.

Because try as I might to know his experience of rejection and loneliness in this world, I ultimately find myself in the shoes of the aggressors, the doubters, the naysayers, and the weak.  And so I thank God again, with fresh insight, that God sent God’s only son, the one and only Christ who could possibly fill the void, so that we might be freed from loneliness, rejection, and misunderstanding in this lifetime.

Amen.

All photos by Evan Schneider.

Gentleness

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” –Philippians 4:4-7

Last night as I was reflecting on this verse and preparing for some silent prayer, I was recalling three words I had scrawled in magic marker on pink construction paper six years ago in Puerto Rico: kindness, patience, gentleness. That pink swatch of construction paper served as a bookmark in my Bible for many years, reminding me of God’s greatness and my own weaknesses. You see, kind, patient, and gentle are three things I was not (and probably still am not), but three things that I had committed to praying for, to becoming through God’s work in me.

It is quite recently, however, in this past year, through weekly talks with a soul friend of mine, that I have been learning that truly experiencing God’s grace requires dealing gently not only with others, but first with oneself. After all, how can I impart grace to others if I do not embrace that promise of grace first myself?

Reading through my devotional last night, it reminded me that a prayer word in silent prayer serves as a gentle way of coming back to God. “Free from thinking,” J. David Muyskens writes, “we enter a profound rest.”

It is a small thing, but I recalled a moment during yesterday when I was genuinely fatigued, but I couldn’t figure out a way to rest. I felt convicted that I should have been doing something, and so I was restless, which I am becoming convinced is an unnatural state for humans created by a God who made a day for rest! A friend of mine also recently sent me this article on clergypeople who are not taking time to rest, and for whom it is causing great consequences.

It sounds simple, but I think learning to rest, and being gentle, are two qualities which usher in the fullness of the humanity for which God intended for us.

In what ways do you resolve to deal gently with yourself, and how does it bring you nearer to experiencing God’s peace?