Learning to Observe

Those who led the way rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”
Luke 18:39 (NIV)

When I was in college studying acting, my professor sent us on an unusual assignment. He sent us a few miles up the road to a busy shopping mall. We were told to sit in the middle of the mall for at least two hours.

Watch people.
Really observe them.
How they move.
Their unusual tics.
The particular way they behave with others.

The goal was to teach me as an actor about creating a realistic and believable character on stage. It’s more than memorizing lines and regurgitating them on stage. It’s about creating a real person.

With a particular gate to his walk.
Mannerisms unique to his character.
A specific way he reacts and responds physically.

That lesson profited me far beyond my training for the stage.
The importance of observation was an entire life-lesson.
It had spiritual implications.

In my daily life. On this chapter-a-day journey.
I keep the eyes and ears of my heart open.
Observing.
Watching for patterns, repetition, and surprises.

As I read and meditated on today’s chapter, I noticed something.

The chapter is book-ended with a parable and an episode.
There’s a connection.

The parable concerns a judge and an old widow.
A widow in the culture of Jesus’ day was a nobody.
Marginalized.
Poor.
Zero social status.
Everyday she begged the judge to hear her case.
Everyday.
She made herself annoying.
Until the judge heard the case just to shut her up.

At the end of the chapter, Jesus is walking through a crowd.
On the side of the road was a blind man.
A beggar.
He shouts, “Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!”
Again. And again. And again.
Annoyed, those around him tell him to shut up.
He yells louder.
Jesus stops. Calls the man over, and heals him.

The widow knocked on the judge’s door.
The blind man shouted into the crowd.
Different scenes. Same audacity.

A week or so ago, I was struck by a similar parable Jesus told.
The neighbor who begs for bread at midnight.
Shameless audacity.
Socially inappropriate.

What struck me as I meditated on these things this morning was that I was observing a pattern in the parables and stories that are lifting off the page for me in the quiet.

Prayer.
Pleading.
Persistence.
A holy refusal to be ignored.

It’s a Holy Spirit whisper.

“Pray Tom.
Keep praying.
Be bold.
Be audacious.
Don’t stop.
Try to annoy me.”

And so in the quiet this morning and observable pattern informs me of my marching orders.

And with that, I will finish this post.

I have some praying to do.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Promotional graphic for Tom Vander Well's Wayfarer blog and podcast, featuring icons of various podcast platforms with a photo of Tom Vander Well.
These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
Icon with an open book on an orange background

God’s Kingdom… It’s Already Here

Once, on being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, Jesus replied, “The coming of the kingdom of God is not something that can be observed, nor will people say, ‘Here it is,’ or ‘There it is,’ because the kingdom of God is in your midst.”
Luke 17:20-21 (NIV)

Every Sunday our local gathering of Jesus’ followers, like many around the world, says the Lord’s Prayer together. As we do so, we pray,

“Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

For most of my life, I confess that I muttered these words without truly even thinking about what they meant.

I thought I was asking God to do something.
I thought I was waiting for something to happen.
I figured it was all about Revelation and end times.

It’s amazing how many things I’m still learning after 45 years as a disciple.

In today’s chapter, Jesus is asked by a Pharisee about the coming of the kingdom of God that Jesus talked so much about. The Pharisees and the religious leaders were thoroughly convinced that the Messiah and His kingdom would be major and dramatic divine production.

Thunder. Smoke. Earthquakes.
A warrior king leading armies against Rome.
An earthly palace in Jerusalem.
Giant throne.

Think Kings David and Solomon on steroids.

If that Pharisee were uttering Jesus’ prayer, that’s what he would have been praying for as he said, “Your kingdom come.”

Jesus answer hit me like a ton of bricks in the quiet this morning.

“The coming of the kingdom of God is not something that can be observed, nor will people say, ‘Here it is,’ or ‘There it is,’ because the kingdom of God is in your midst.”

It’s already here.

Over the last several years I’ve been learning about how life with God on earth is understood by thinking about life on four levels.

Level Four: Kingdom of God
Level Three: Kingdoms of this World
Level Two: My Community and Circles of Influence
Level One: My Relationship with God

The way the world (Level Three) works is to use power and wealth to control others and make them do your will.

Armies march.
Empires dictate.
Governments rule.
Businesses employ, delegate, and demand.
Religions regulate, condemn, and shame

Power.
Authority.
Threat of pain, loss, and punishment.

Now think back to what the Pharisees were looking for from God’s Messiah.

Just another kingdom of this world.

This is how Paul described Jesus’ game plan…

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:
Who, being in very nature God,
    did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
    by taking the very nature of a servant,
    being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
    he humbled himself
    by becoming obedient to death—
        even death on a cross!

Philippians 2:5-8 (NIV)

Jesus was in heaven up on Level Four.

He didn’t come crashing down with power through Levels Three and Two.

He slipped quietly into Level One to establish one-on-one relationships.
He called individuals.
He healed individuals.
He forgave individuals.
He loved individuals.
He got into the heart of individuals.

Then He said, “Go love others on Level Two. In your community and your circles of influence — so my love might penetrate their Level One lives as well.”
Your family.
Your neighbors.
Your coworkers.
Your enemies.

This isn’t the way the world works — power down authority.
This is the way God works — humility loving its way up.

Love others.

One-to-one.

Kindness.
Patience.
Faithfulness.
Goodness.
Forgiveness.

And when Jesus disciples followed that formula in the first century.
They turned the world upside down.

When Jesus told the Pharisee, “The kingdom of God is in your midst” He was talking about Himself.

But He was also talking about…
Peter.
James.
Mary.
Joanna.
Young John Mark.
The woman at the well.
The Samaritan leper.

The Kingdom of God is not in a palace in Jerusalem.
The Kingdom of God is in me.
In every believer.
To be “loved up” into others the way Jesus showed us.

“Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

It’s not a prayer for God to do something.

It’s a commitment to God of what I’m going to do.

A conversation.
A moment of patience.
Choosing forgiveness, again, when I really don’t want to.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Promotional graphic for Tom Vander Well's Wayfarer blog and podcast, featuring icons of various podcast platforms with a photo of Tom Vander Well.
These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
Logo featuring an open book icon on an orange background

“Even if Someone Rises from the Dead”

[Abraham] said to [the rich man], ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’”
Luke 16:31 (NIV)

This past Sunday Wendy and I volunteered to help usher people into Easter worship and find seats.

There’s always a large crowd.

I’ve regularly attended weekly worship for most of my life. Along the way, I notice patterns. A few weeks before Easter attendance will slowly swell. The crowd arrives on Easter. Wendy and I help them find a seat.

Then the crowds go away.

Numbers recede back to normal.

Until a few weeks before Christmas.

It makes me wonder how often we are drawn to moments…but resist what they’re actually calling us into.

Today’s chapter is two scenes stitched together, both whispering (and sometimes shouting) about money, loyalty, and what we truly trust.

First, there’s a manager caught mismanaging his boss’s money and is about to be fired. Instead of panicking, he gets… creative. He cuts deals with his master’s debtors so they’ll welcome him later.

And here’s the twist—his master commends him for being shrewd.

So is Jesus praising the dishonesty? Not exactly. He’s saying: “Look how creatively people pursue temporary security… why are my people so passive about eternal things?”

Then He tightens the screws:

  • Faithful in little → faithful in much
  • You cannot serve both God and money

Money isn’t the villain. It’s the test.
It’s not about having it. It’s about what it does to your grip—does your hand open… or tighten?

In the next scene, Jesus pulls back the curtain on eternity.

A rich man lives in luxury.
A poor man, Lazarus, lies at his gate—hungry, broken, ignored.

In a world where the rich get remembered and the poor forgotten Jesus flips the script. God knows the poor man’s name. Not the rich man.

Both die.

Now the tables turn:

Lazarus finds himself in eternal comfort.
Rich man finds himself in eternal torment.

Interestingly, the rich man isn’t condemned for cruelty, but for indifference.

He didn’t beat Lazarus.
He merely stepped over him… every day.
Not out of hatred… just habit.

And the haunting line:

“Between us and you a great chasm has been set in place….”

No crossing. No do-overs.

And in the quiet this morning, the text leans in close, lowers its voice, and asks me something a little dangerous:

What am I really living for?

Not what I say.
Not what I post.
What my calendar, my bank account, and my quiet decisions reveal.

Jesus isn’t subtle:

  • This life is a test run, not the main event
  • Money is a tool, not a lover
  • Faithfulness in the small, unseen moments… that’s the real résumé

And maybe the most piercing truth of all:

The gap between heaven and hell isn’t created at death.
It’s revealed there.

I am becoming someone right now.

With every choice
Every act of generosity
Every moment of indifference
Every quiet “yes” or “no” to God

I am shaping the person who will step into eternity.

And for me, the most haunting line of all this morning was the final one.

If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’”

Translation? I already have more than enough truth to change my life. The question is whether I’ll listen.

An annual visit to God on Easter probably won’t make much difference.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Promotional graphic for Tom Vander Well's Wayfarer blog and podcast, featuring icons of various podcast platforms with a photo of Tom Vander Well.
These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
Logo featuring an open book icon on an orange background.

Lost and Found

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.”
Luke 15:20 (NIV)

On Saturday morning at breakfast, Wendy read an article about a lamb. She giggled.
She cried out with laughter.
She clapped her hands.
Wendy’s family raised sheep when she was growing up. The article brought back a flood of memories for her. I got a full account of just how sweet and stupid and endearing they can be.

Sometimes, they just wander off.

Last Friday I stepped into the chapter’s context. Jesus, heading to Jerusalem to die, has dinner with a prominent religious leader. His host and the powerful guests gathered there represented the very ones who will execute Him. True to His teaching Jesus literally…

Sat at the table with His enemies.
Blessed them with His presence.
Pled with them to repent.

In today’s chapter, Luke shifts the context. The contrast is stark.

Jesus is gathered with tax collectors and sinners.
But the religious leaders are in the room, too.
Watching.
Judging.
Plotting.

Jesus? He tells stories that land like arrows—soft feathers, sharp tips.

One.

A shepherd has 100 sheep. One wanders.

He leaves the 99.

Let that sit a second.

This is not efficient.
This is not strategic.
This is not… safe.

This is love that doesn’t run spreadsheets.

He searches until he finds it. And when he does — no scolding. He lifts. He carries. He celebrates.

And here’s a tidbit worth savoring:
The sheep does nothing to contribute to its rescue. It is found… because it is loved.

Two.

A woman loses one coin out of ten.

She lights a lamp. Sweeps the house. Searches carefully.

This is quieter than the shepherd story… more intimate. Almost obsessive.

And when she finds it?

Party time again.

And again, this quiet little truth:
The coin also contributes nothing. It doesn’t cry out. It doesn’t move closer.

It is pursued with intention.

God is not just wildly emotional—He is meticulous about finding what is His.

Three.

This is the climax of Jesus’ teaching in three acts.
You can almost hear the music swell…

A son looks his father in the eye and basically says,
“I’d rather have your stuff than you.”

He takes the inheritance. Burns it. Ends up feeding pigs—rock bottom with a side of mud.

Then… he comes to his senses.

He rehearses a speech:
“I’ll go back. I’ll be a servant. I’ll earn my way…”

But the father?

He sees him while he’s still far off.

And then—this is the scandal—

He runs.

Middle Eastern patriarchs don’t run. It’s undignified. It exposes the legs. It’s… embarrassing.

But love doesn’t care about dignity.

He runs.
He embraces.
He interrupts the apology.
He restores the son before the speech is finished.

Robe. Ring. Feast.

No probation period.
No performance review.
No “let’s see if you’ve changed.”

Just… welcome home.

And then—plot twist.

The older brother.

He’s furious.

He stayed. He obeyed. He did everything right… and somehow never learned his father’s heart.

Just like Jesus’ religious critics in the room.

Now here’s where Luke 15 leans in close and lowers its voice.

I am in this story.

Some days I’m the sheep Wendy remembers—wandering, unaware, needing to be carried.

Some days I’m the coin—still, lost in the dust, waiting for light to find me.

Some days… I’m the younger son—running hard, tasting freedom that turns bitter.

And if I’m honest?

Some days I’m the older brother—standing outside grace with crossed arms, offended by mercy I didn’t earn.

Heaven celebrates recovery more than consistency.

Heaven throws parties for found things.

Not polished people.
Not perfect track records.
Not religious résumé builders.

Found things.

Wherever I am…

The Shepherd is already moving.
The Light is already searching.
The Father is already running.

And oh… when He finds me?

He doesn’t scold.

He celebrates.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Promotional graphic for Tom Vander Well's Wayfarer blog and podcast, featuring icons of various podcast platforms with a photo of Tom Vander Well.
These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
Logo featuring an open book icon on an orange background.

A Dinner Dripping with Intrigue

One Sabbath, when Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee, he was being carefully watched.
Luke 14:1 (NIV)

Context is essential.

The episodes of today’s chapter lie with concentric circles of context that Luke has carefully laid.

Way at the beginning he introduces us to baby Jesus, the Son of God, come to earth. At his dedication, Simeon prophesies:

“This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed.” (2:34-35)

In chapter 9, Jesus “resolutely” sets out for Jerusalem, having predicted that:

“The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.” (9:22)

Today’s chapter begins with a simple statement.

Easily overlooked.

Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee, he was being carefully watched.

Most people read that and forget it. But wait…

Everything in today’s chapter happens in this context.

The baby Messiah who will cause “the rise and fall of many in Israel,” and who will reveal the thoughts of their hearts.

The Messiah on a mission — heading to Jerusalem to be rejected by the religious power brokers – to be killed by them.

And, He is dining with one of those very men…
….at his house.
…under his critical gaze.

This isn’t a casual dinner.
This is a set-up.
The table is dripping with intrigue and tension.

They think they’re watching Him.
But He’s the one setting the table…

He prods His enemies. He pokes at them at every turn.

“Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?” (He knows His host thinks it is.)
He heals a man with abnormal swelling sitting in the room.

[Poke]

Watching the prominent religious leaders vying for the seats of honor at the table. He calls them out. Directly.

“But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” (vs 10-11)

[Poke]

Jesus then tells a parable. A great banquet feast is given. All the high-and-mighty guests on the list beg off. The host sends servants to bring in the lowly, the poor, the marginalized, the foreigners, the outcasts.

Translation: You are leaders of God’s people. He sent me to invite you to His great banquet. You’ve rejected me, so I’m inviting others.

[Poke]

Jesus then surveys the room. Some of the powerful religious leaders have been following Jesus. They’ve been listening. Some have even tried to befriend Him. In yesterday’s chapter, it was they who warned Jesus that Herod wanted to kill him — begging Him not to proceed to Jerusalem.

I believe Jesus’ final words at the party are for them.

It’s decision time, gentlemen.

Time to fish, or cut bait.

They are riding the fence. They enjoy the pomp and prominence of their position. They live lives of relative ease. Their names are etched in the boxes at the top of the Temple org chart.

If you’re truly going to follow me, you have to give it all up.

Count the cost, gentlemen.
You can’t sip the Kingdom wine I offer and keep your seat at Herod’s table.

“Those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples.”

[Poke]

If you follow the tension in the room. It leads somewhere.

It is Good Friday as I write this post. On this annual day to remember Jesus’ execution on a Roman cross, I’m reminded…

Jesus was resolute in walking toward suffering and death.

Jesus prodded His enemies, and provoked their actions against Him.

Still, He didn’t run.

He went to their houses for dinner. He sat in their midst.
He gave His enemies another chance…
to hear
to see
to choose
to follow

As Jesus hung on three nails between heaven and earth.

He was not a victim.

He was the Son of Man on a mission.

A suffering servant.
A sacrifice, once – for all.

For me.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Promotional graphic for Tom Vander Well's Wayfarer blog and podcast, featuring icons of various podcast platforms with a photo of Tom Vander Well.
These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
Logo featuring an open book icon on an orange background.

Hidden in Plain Sight

At that time some Pharisees came to Jesus and said to him, “Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you.”

He replied, “Go tell that fox, ‘I will keep on driving out demons and healing people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal.’

Luke 13:31-32 (NIV)

Star Wars Episode IV was the first of the Star Wars movies made in the 1970s, and the movie that took the world by storm. Those of us who are old enough to have experienced that first taste of the Star Wars universe, watching it in retrospect is an adventure.

We had no idea Luke & Leia were twins. (We thought they were lovers!)
We had no idea Darth Vader was their father. (Are you kidding me?)
We had no idea Obi-Wan was Darth Vader’s Jedi Master.

Once I know the whole story, I see little things I never saw before.

Today’s chapter is a good example, and perfect for this Maundy Thursday post.

When Jesus began His ministry back in chapter 4, the Prince of this World tempted Jesus in the wilderness. He shows Jesus all the Kingdoms of this World, reminds Jesus that they are his to give, and offers to give them to Jesus if Jesus will only bow down to him. Jesus refuses.

On Good Friday, Jesus will be executed by an unholy trinity of the Kingdoms of this world.

Pilate representing Rome and the Kingdom of Human Empire.
Annas representing the Kingdom of Religion.
Herod representing the Kingdom of Self-Interest—politics, image, and the machinery of wealth.

In today’s chapter, Jesus is resolutely headed toward Jerusalem. He knows His mission. He knows what’s going to happen. He knows who is going to have Him executed.

The chapter begins with a reference to Pilate, who was notorious for using the power of Rome to suppress enemies and showcase his power.
Jesus says, “Repent You just might be next. I know I am.”

Then the scene shifts to the religious establishment who are so busy with their laws etched in stone that they can’t hear the Living Word when it is speaking to them directly.
Jesus “humiliates” them, increasing their desire to kill Him.

The chapter ends with Jesus being warned to avoid Jerusalem, because Rome’s local puppet king, Herod, wants to kill Him.
Jesus replies with veiled insult and prophetically doubles down on His mission.

“Three days to reach my goal.”

One day do die.
One day to winnow hell.
One day to rise again.

In the quiet this morning, I find today’s chapter to whisper to me about mission and urgency. Hidden in plain sight, Luke foreshadows this trinity of kingdoms of this world under the dominion of the Prince of this World. They desperately hate one another – but they will form an unholy alliance to put the Son of God to death.

And in so doing, they are unaware that they will ensure Death’s defeat.

Once and for all.

And Jesus’ message through the chapter weaves together into a single, urgent call:
Repent before it’s too late.
Bear fruit while there is still time.
Stop hiding behind rules and start showing mercy.
Trust—even a mustard-seed worth.
The door is narrow… but it is open.
And proximity to Him is not the same as knowing Him.

Good reminders as I join the rest of the world in making an annual pilgrimage with Jesus on His mission to the cross, and beyond.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Promotional graphic for Tom Vander Well's Wayfarer blog and podcast, featuring icons of various podcast platforms with a photo of Tom Vander Well.
These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
Icon featuring an open book on an orange background

The Weight of April

For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
Luke 12:34 (NIV)

It’s April.

I shared a few weeks ago that a friend and I spent 24 hours at a monastery in silent retreat. Each of us arrived with something on which we wanted to pray and meditate. For me, it was April.

This month brings a harmonic convergence of three important milestones in my life journey.

This month marks the 20th anniversary of these chapter-a-day blog posts and podcasts. My first post was April 4, 2006. One paragraph on Mark 8. Twenty years later I’m still here scattering my chapter-a-day posts to the winds of the internet.

Around the middle of this month my first book will be published and available on Amazon. This Call May Be Monitored (What Eavesdropping on Corporate America Taught Me About Business and Life) is the fulfillment of a life-long dream.

On the last day of the month I have one of those monumental birthdays with zero at the end. Yet 60 feels more monumental than the others. At this waypoint on the journey the conversation turns to retirement, health, and golden years. It’s the back turn before the home stretch.

Hitting all three milestones in one month has me returning to three important questions:

Where have I been?
Where am I at?
Where am I going?

Which is why they were rattling around my head and heart as I read today’s chapter. Jesus is coming out of his own back turn. In chapter nine He made the “resolute” turn towards Jerusalem. He’s entering the home stretch, and He knows exactly what awaits him.

As I read the text with that in mind, I once again found a common thread running through Jesus’ teaching. How, then, am I going to live? His ways are not our ways. According to Jesus, living for God’s Kingdom looks different than living for this world.

Kingdom people don’t fear death – or suffering (vs 4-12)
The world focuses on ways to cheat death, ignore it, or prefer it to life.

Kingdom people don’t worry about hoarding wealth & stuff (vs 13-21)
The U.S. alone has over 2 billion square feet of self-storage space.

Kingdom people don’t worry (vs 22-34)
Since 2020, levels of anxiety have skyrocketed across the spectrum.

Kingdom people remain fixed on eternal perspective (vs 35-48)
The world loses itself in the temporary—rarely stopping to consider what lasts.

Kingdom people view current events through an eternal lens (vs 54-59)
The world spins with every trending topic and momentary news blast

And so, in the quiet this morning I find myself meditating on how I am doing as I complete my 60th journey around the sun this month. As a disciple of Jesus…

How am I doing at living for God’s Kingdom?

How am I no different than the world?

What changes would Jesus have me make coming out life’s back turn?

Because there are more days behind me than are ahead of me.

And that’s no April foolin’.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Promotional graphic for Tom Vander Well's Wayfarer blog and podcast, featuring icons of various podcast platforms with a photo of Tom Vander Well.
These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
An orange square icon with a white open book illustration on it.

Socially Inappropriate

I tell you, even though he will not get up and give you the bread because of friendship, yet because of your shameless audacity he will surely get up and give you as much as you need.
Luke 11:8 (NIV)

Like most people, almost everything I was taught about God, church, and worship was all about propriety.

Sit still.
Be quiet.
Fold your hands.
Bow your head.
Dress nice.
Take off your hat.

The problem with this is that God’s description of worship is not that.

“Clap your hands, all you nations; shout to God with cries of joy.” (Psalm 47:1)
“Shout for joy to God, all the earth…” (Psalm 66:1–2)
“…let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.” (Psalm 95:1–2)
“Let them praise his name with dancing…” (Psalm 149:3)
“Praise him with timbrel and dancing…” (Psalm 150:4)

This past Sunday, I yelled in church. More than once. I shouted out praise.

People were uncomfortable. I did it anyway. It wasn’t about them.

The further I progress in my journey, the more I have come to embrace just how significantly His ways are not our ways. Which means if I’m going to do things God’s way, I’m going to have to break out of my comfort zone.

And then there’s prayer.

In today’s chapter, right after teaching His disciples the “Lord’s Prayer,” Jesus tells one of His strangest parables. It’s one of those you rarely hear taught because, it’s uncomfortable.

A man shows up at his neighbor’s door at midnight after everyone is asleep. He needs to borrow some bread for unexpected guests. The woken neighbor tries to beg off, but the man will not stop pounding and begging until the neighbor finally relents and gives the man bread to shut him up.

Jesus says the man had “shameless audacity.” But this is another case of the original Greek word not having a good English equivalent.

The Greek word is anaideia. It is literally translated “without shame,” but here’s the twist… in Greek culture, anaideia is almost always negative.

It’s not polite boldness.
It’s not admirable persistence.

It leans more toward:

The person who keeps knocking when everyone else would slink away.
Brazen nerve.
Thick-skinned insistence.
A refusal to be embarrassed.

Jesus is essentially saying: “This guy gets what he needs not because he’s polite, but because he refuses to feel shame about asking.”

That feels like yelling out loud in church.

In a culture built on honor and shame, this is almost scandalous. The man at the door is violating social norms:

It’s midnight
The household is asleep
The request is inconvenient

And yet… he just keeps knocking.

Not a gentle tap.

Not a “sorry to bother you.”

This is persistent, socially inappropriate, borderline annoying knocking.

And Jesus says:

That’s the posture that moves the door.

And in the quiet this morning, that makes me extremely uncomfortable. Shame has always been my native language. It seeps out of me as pessimism. I was taught to be timid in asking for things.

“Be content with what you have.”
“Take what you’re given and be happy.”
“Don’t ask for too much, it’s rude.”
“You don’t deserve it anyway, so just don’t ask.”
“Don’t expect too much, you’re probably not going to get it anyway.”

Jesus paints a picture of prayer that feels almost… scandalous:

Not polished.
Not proper.
Not carefully worded.

But:

Bold
Relentless
Unembarrassed

The kind of prayer that says:
“I know it’s late.”
“I know this is inconvenient.”
“I know I’ve already asked.”
“But I’m still here. Still Knocking. Not going away.”

Heaven’s door doesn’t open for the well-mannered.
It opens for the ones who won’t stop knocking.

For me, there’s something quietly intoxicating about this.

A permission slip… to be a little undignified with God.

To knock like you mean it.

It’s like shouting in church.

Undignified.
Uncomfortable.

And exactly the point.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Promotional graphic for Tom Vander Well's Wayfarer blog and podcast, featuring icons of various podcast platforms with a photo of Tom Vander Well.
These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
An orange button with an open book icon in white, representing reading or educational content.

A Good Question for the Week

…but few things are needed—or indeed only one.
Luke 10:42a (NIV)

Most mornings as I sit in the quiet and meditate on the chapter there is one thing that jumps off the page. Other mornings, like this morning, there is a flow and a thread that runs through the episodes.

Today’s chapter contains four episodes. Each episode has its own lesson, but together they have a cohesive thought to send me into another work week.

First, Jesus expands the mission. Not just the Twelve now—others. Seventy-two unnamed, ordinary people.

He sends them out with almost reckless simplicity:

  • No purse
  • No bag
  • No sandals

In other words: No safety net but Me.

And what happens?
They come back breathless—“Lord, even the demons submit to us in your name!”

Jesus smiles, but gently redirects their joy:

“Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but that your names are written in heaven.”

Jesus is saying, “Your identity isn’t in your power… it’s in your belonging.”

I love measurable wins—success, influence, outcomes.
Jesus whispers, “Tom, that’s not your truest scoreboard.”

My worth today is not in what I accomplish but in the quiet, unshakable reality that I am known and named.

In the second episode, Jesus grieves the towns that were centers of His ministry. They saw and heard everything… and they shrugged.

Jesus compares them to Tyre and Sidon—ancient enemies of Israel. It’s a shocking reversal: The outsiders would have responded… but you didn’t.

Familiarity can numb the soul.

I don’t drift from God because I lack information.
I drift because what was once electric becomes… ordinary.

The danger isn’t rebellion. It’s indifference.

I need to pay attention to what I’ve grown used to—grace, truth, the quiet nudges. I need to let them surprise me again.

Speaking of familiar, the third episode is the well-worn parable of the Good Samaritan.

A lawyer wants Jesus to define the limits of his responsibility. Jesus blows up the boundary lines.

A man is beaten on the road and left half-dead.
A preacher passes by…
An upstanding church member…
Then stops…one of those people… a Samaritan.

Samaritans and Jews had centuries of hostility. This isn’t just unlikely—it’s offensive. Jesus casts the enemy as the hero.

And notice the verbs:

  • He saw him
  • He felt compassion
  • He went to him
  • He bandaged
  • He carried
  • He paid

Love is not an attitude.
It’s an action, a movement toward.

My neighbor today isn’t theoretical.
It’s the inconvenient interruption right in front of me.

The road to Jericho winds its way through my day.

In the final episode, Jesus is having dinner at Mary and Martha’s house.

Martha is busy.
Mary is present.

Martha’s frustration spills out:

“Lord, don’t you care?”

Ugh! How many times have I whispered that question?

Jesus responds with tenderness, not rebuke:

“Martha, Martha… you’re worried and upset about many things, but only a few are needed – or indeed only one.”

“Many things” vs. “one thing.” The Greek carries the sense of fragmentation vs. wholeness.

Martha is pulled apart.
Mary is centered.
I can be very productive… and very divided inside.

The invitation isn’t to do less for Jesus.
It’s to be with Him first.

Before the emails.
Before the noise.
Before the long task list of responsibilities…

Sit down at the table.
Listen.
Let my soul breathe, and center.

And the through-line of these four episodes is an important question for my day and my week: Where is my center?

  • Is it in what I do? (the seventy-two)
  • In what I’ve grown used to? (the cities)
  • In where I draw my boundaries? (the lawyer)
  • In how busy I keep myself? (Martha)

Or…

Is it in being with Jesus—and letting everything else flow from there?

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Promotional graphic for Tom Vander Well's Wayfarer blog and podcast, featuring icons of various podcast platforms with a photo of Tom Vander Well.
These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
Icon featuring an open book symbol on an orange background.

The Mountain

About eight days after Jesus said this, he took Peter, John and James with him and went up onto a mountain to pray.
Luke 9:28 (NIV)

This past spring a friend invited me to climb a mountain. It wasn’t a tall mountain, mind you. The rugged trail to the summit was few miles and the ascent was gentle enough that it didn’t wear me out too much. But, it was a mountain. The view was spectacular. As an Iowa boy living my life on the rolling plains, it was a rare opportunity and experience.

A year or so ago I listened to The Bible Project’s podcast series on mountains in the Bible. In case you didn’t know it, mountains are a whole theme across the Great Story, and in today’s chapter we encounter one of the most crucial examples. it’s a strange one—but once you see the connections (because in the Great Story, everything connects), it opens up in all sorts of ways.

To unpack it, we first have to travel back to our chapter-a-day trek through Exodus. In Exodus 19, Moses and the recently freed Hebrew slaves arrive at Mount Sinai and God makes a covenant with the Hebrew people.

  • Moses ascends the mountain
  • A cloud envelops it
  • God’s voice thunders
  • His face shines when he comes down
  • The Law is given

Sinai is fire and fear.
Distance. Boundaries. “Do not come too close.”

It’s holy, yes—but also heavy. The people tremble. Even Moses feels the weight of it.

Now, let’s compare that to what happens in today’s chapter.

  • Jesus ascends the mountain
  • A cloud envelops it
  • God’s voice speaks
  • Jesus’ face shines like the sun
  • And… Moses is there

Did you catch that?

Moses—the man of Sinai—now standing beside Jesus.

The Law stands next to its fulfillment.

As I meditate on the two, I find four absolutely delicious echoes.

1. The Cloud

Same symbol. Same presence.

At Sinai: terrifying mystery.
At Transfiguration: intimate revelation.

The cloud hasn’t changed.

But the way we experience it has.

2. The Voice

At Sinai: commands carved in stone.
At Transfiguration: “This is my Son… listen to him.”

That’s not just a statement—that’s a handoff.

From law → to living Word
From tablets → to a person

3. The Shining Face

Moses reflects glory.

Jesus radiates it.

One borrows the light…
The other is the light.

4. The Conversation

Luke tells us what they’re talking about:

They speak of Jesus’ “departure” — the Greek word is exodus.

Oh, that’s not accidental. That’s poetry with teeth.

Moses led the first exodus—out of Egypt.
Jesus is about to lead a greater one—out of sin and death.

Same word. Bigger story.

But the best is yet to come when it comes to what this means for me today as a disciple following Jesus.

Peter, bless his enthusiastic heart, wants to build tents.

“Let’s stay here. Let’s capture this. Let’s make it permanent.”

Oh, I feel that sentiment. I’ve felt it on several spiritual mountaintops.

I love those Sinai moments.
Those Transfiguration moments.
Those flashes of clarity where everything feels bright and certain and… safe.

But then the cloud clears.

And Jesus?

He’s alone.

Moses fades. Elijah fades. The moment fades.

Because the point was never the mountain.

It was always Him and He never stays there.

If Sinai and the stone tablets say “Obey and live,”
and the mountain of Transfiguration says “Listen to him”…

Then the question quietly slips into my morning like a hand on my back:

Am I still trying to live by laws carved in stone…
or am I actually listening to the voice?

Because it’s possible—oh, dangerously possible—to admire Sinai, respect the law, nod at the glory…

…and still not follow the Son down the mountain.

And he always comes down the mountain.

Toward people.
Toward pain.
Toward Jerusalem.

And when I listen to the Voice…it’s always calling my name.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Promotional graphic for Tom Vander Well's Wayfarer blog and podcast, featuring icons of various podcast platforms with a photo of Tom Vander Well.
These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
An orange icon featuring an open book illustration in white.

Just another wayfarer on life's journey, headed for Home. I'm carrying The Message, and I'm definitely waiting for Guffman.