Tag Archives: Roman

Earned Respect

Earned Respect (CaD Acts 27) Wayfarer

The next day we landed at Sidon; and Julius, in kindness to Paul, allowed him to go to his friends so they might provide for his needs.
Acts 27:3-4a (NIV)

I have always loved being on the water, and have dreamed of being at sea. As a kid, I planned to join the Navy so I could sail around the world. There was a period of my childhood when I wore a sailor hat all the time. My mom loved to tell stories of me wearing my sailor hat so much that I would forget it was on my head. I’d go to bed with it on or jump into the swimming pool with it still on my head. That love is still with me. I’d rather be on a cruise ship on the ocean than any other kind of vacation.

Today’s chapter is a fascinating and dramatic retelling of Paul’s ocean voyage to Rome in order to face trial before Caesar. I find it riveting simply because of the details Luke provides about what a voyage by ship was like at that period of history. Luke was on board with Paul, so the chapter is a primary source description of the events. The fact that they got caught up in a raging storm, spent 14 days adrift, and were eventually shipwrecked makes for exciting action. I seriously had sea shanties going through my head as I read.

After finishing the chapter and reflecting back on the events, there was one thing that stood out amidst all of them.

Paul is still a prisoner of Rome, and there were a number of other prisoners who were being transported to Rome at the same time. There was a centurion named Julius who was in charge of the prisoners and the other Roman soldiers guarding them. Early in the voyage, the ship makes port in Sidon. Julius allows Paul to disembark to meet with friends there.

This is a tremendous risk for Julian. If a prisoner were to escape, Julian would be killed for allowing it to happen. In letting Paul off the ship and trusting him to return, Julian was putting his own head on the line. Even Luke is careful to note that this was an act of incredible kindness. Later in the chapter, as it becomes clear that the ship is about to fall apart, the soldiers under Julian’s command want to execute all the prisoners in order to ensure no one would escape so as to save their own necks. But Julian, “wanting to spare Paul’s life” vetoes the idea.

As I meditated on Julian’s actions, I was reminded of Paul’s words to the disciples of Jesus in Thessalonica:

“…make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.”
1 Thessalonians 4:11-12 (NIV)

Paul had obviously lived and conducted himself as a prisoner in such a way that he won the respect of Julian the centurion. The fact that Paul’s disembarkation in Sidon was to meet with fellow believers “to provide for his needs” was an example of Paul’s ambition to “not be dependent” on Julian or the Roman Department of Corrections. Paul earned Julian’s respect, and in doing so Paul saved his own life and the lives of all the other prisoners on board with him.

In the quiet this morning, I can’t help but be instructed by Paul’s examples in both word and deed. Yes, the story of his voyage and shipwreck makes for fascinating reading. The real story of Paul’s survival, however, is rooted in something far more significant. Paul had lived and conducted himself as a prisoner in such a way that a Roman centurion twice risked his own neck for him.

May my daily life win the respect of outsiders.

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

To Appeal, or Not?

To Appeal, or Not? (Cad Acts 25) Wayfarer

“If, however, I am guilty of doing anything deserving death, I do not refuse to die. But if the charges brought against me by these Jews are not true, no one has the right to hand me over to them. I appeal to Caesar!”
Acts 25:11 (NIV)

Paul has been imprisoned for two years. He had been a political blue-chip for the Roman Governor, Felix, who wanted to stay on the good side of the Jewish rulers who wanted Paul dead. Paul gave him leverage. Felix gets recalled to Rome and a new Governor named Festus arrives. As Festus gets the political lay of the land, he quickly understands that the trial and fate of Paul is a political hot potato.

Festus begins with a political gesture to his Jewish constituents by traveling to Jerusalem to visit them on their home turf for a little over a week. Obviously, there were a number of political issues to discuss, but Paul’s fate was certainly on the list of Jewish demands.

Upon arriving back in his seat of power in Caesarea, Festus convenes the court and brings in Paul to hear Paul plead his case. Festus, still in a conciliatory mood with the powerful Jewish faction under his rule, asks Paul if he’s willing to be tried by the Governor in Jerusalem.

In this moment, Paul makes a decision that will seal his fate and determine the rest of his earthly journey. We know that Jesus had appeared to Paul and told him he must testify about Him in Rome (Acts 23:11). It is entirely possible that Paul was afraid that the new Governor, clearly trying to appease the Jewish rulers, would take him to Jerusalem and hand him over to them. To ensure that he would testify in Rome, Paul used his legal right under Roman law to appeal his case to Caesar in Rome itself. In doing so, Paul ties Festus’ hands politically. Festus is bound by duty to send Paul to Rome.

Along my life journey, I have encountered followers of Jesus who believe that God has called them to do this or that. Subsequently, I have watched individuals try to make it happen. In some cases, the results have been disastrous, much like Shakespeare’s Macbeth. It has left me believing that if God’s purpose is for me to go here or there and do this or that, then nothing can stop it from happening.

Was Paul’s appeal to Rome necessary or not? If God wanted Paul to testify in Rome, could/should Paul have trusted that God would see to it he won his trial in Jerusalem so he could travel to Rome of his own free will? Was his appeal to Caesar an act of obedience or an act of doubt? We’ll never know.

I have found along the way that God’s purposes and my free will are a lot like the mysterious circle dance of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in which One is Three and Three are One. There’s a tension. On one hand I can be too passive and think I’m trusting God to make things happen. On the other hand, I can willfully try too hard to make things happen and think I’m being obedient to what God has purposed for me.

Life is a bit like the Waverunner we have at the lake. If you don’t have your finger on the accelerator and are propelling yourself forward, you can’t steer the thing. My part is to willfully and obediently walk in discipleship (propelling myself spiritually forward). Then, I can trust God to steer me where He ultimately purposes for me to be.

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

Political Imprisonment

Political Imprisonment (CaD Acts 24) Wayfarer

At the same time {Governon Felix] was hoping that Paul would offer him a bribe, so he sent for him frequently and talked with him.
Acts 24:26 (NIV)

Wendy and I are long-time readers of the Wall Street Journal. Over the past year, we’ve been following the case of Evan Gershkovich, a WSJ journalist in Russia, who has been arrested and imprisoned on a trumped-up charge of espionage. It is a game the Putin regime plays on a regular basis, arresting high-profile individuals who can be traded for his henchmen who have been captured in the West. It’s a terrible situation for the victims like Gershkovich who’s done nothing to deserve his fate, but it has worked time-and-time-again for Putin, so he’ll keep doing it. It’s the way the world works.

In today’s chapter, Paul is tried before the Roman Governor, a corrupt and incompetent leader named Felix. Felix only lasted a few years as Governor and was eventually recalled to Rome to answer for his poor leadership.

It’s easy to miss the political game into which Paul has been swept, but it’s important context. Paul has one motivation: To be a witness of Jesus, His resurrection, and the eternal salvation He offers. For every other player in the events of these final chapters of Acts, their motivations are personal and political.

The Roman Empire holds sway throughout the Western world. The Empire’s prevailing desire is to maintain power, maintain peace, and keep tax revenues flowing to Rome. In Judea, keeping the peace means dealing with the Jewish leaders who control the Jewish population. The Jews hate the Romans and the Romans despise the Jews, but they have to deal with one another.

To complicate the issue, Paul was born a Roman citizen. His parents were tentmakers in Tarsus, and were likely providers of tents for the Roman legions. It’s speculated that their family may have been granted citizenship for their service in outfitting Roman armies, or perhaps they were wealthy enough to purchase citizenship.

Being a citizen of Rome was not something every person born in the Empire received like you do in countries like the United States. Citizenship had to be purchased or granted, and relatively few people had it. Roman citizenship was more like having an elite status with the airlines that gave you all sorts of perks like free first-class upgrades that the majority of fliers back in economy class could only dream about.

The Jewish ruling council couldn’t just deal with Paul as they did Jesus, who was a nobody in Rome’s eyes. Rome took care of its citizens, which means Felix has a political blue-chip in Paul. The Jews want Paul dead, but Felix holds the power to give them what they want or hold on to Paul and string them along just to make them mad. Furthermore, being a citizen was typically a sign of wealth, and Paul’s testimony was that he came to Jerusalem with money for the poor. If Paul has access to money, perhaps he will offer Felix a bribe for his release. Felix doesn’t care about Paul. He cares about himself, his pocketbook, and his power.

The thing I found fascinating as I meditated on the chapter this morning is to compare Paul to everyone else in the situation. Paul is simply a disciple of Jesus who is focused entirely on bringing God’s Kingdom to earth in any and every way he can. This is such a contrast to both Felix and the Jewish leaders who represent people of this world, living for this world, and representing kingdoms of this world. Felix keeps summoning Paul for conversations hoping Paul will offer him a bribe. Why would Paul offer Felix a bribe? Paul cares more about the opportunity to talk to Felix, the Roman Governor, about Jesus than he cares about his freedom.

In the quiet this morning, I can’t help but wonder how I might fare if I were unjustly arrested and detained simply because of my faith. As I think about it, I tend to think that the situation would reveal a lot about me and that which I believe. If I am focused on this life and the things of this world, then it would likely cause all sorts of spiritual, mental, and physical anguish. If, however, I am focused on God’s Kingdom and His righteousness, then I suspect I have a completely different attitude entirely.

Of course, I hope never to end up in those circumstances. Yet, as I reflect on it in the quiet, I realize that the same contrast exists today as I live in freedom and affluence. Do my life and my actions reflect a person who is living for this world and the things of this world, or do they reflect a person living to bring God’s Kingdom to earth?

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

Choosing Humility

Choosing Humility (CaD Lk 14) Wayfarer

“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.”
Luke 14:10-11 (NIV)

Before getting into today’s chapter, a quick update from the Vander Well homefront. As faithful readers know, I love my morning quiet time, and it’s out of that morning quiet that these chapter-a-day posts spring. Just a few nights ago, our daughter and her family moved back to the States from the U.K.. As in, they moved moved…into our house…for the indeterminate future. Ya-Ya and I are so very excited about this. After our grandkids lived an ocean away for five years, we are over the moon to have them just an arm-length away from a cuddle or a hug. However, the empty nest will be a three-generation household for a while with grandchildren whose bodies are still on UK time, where midnight to us is 6:00 a.m. to their wee brains. So, my morning quiet the past few days has turned into playtime and doing the Macarena.

So, please know that my chapter-a-day posts may be published sporadically for at least a few weeks until the holidays are over and life settles into a routine for the household. And, they may be a little more sporadic after that. It’s semi-controlled chaos for the near future. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

Speaking of hospitality. In today’s chapter, Jesus is a dinner guest at the home of a “prominent” local Pharisee. Jesus is still drawing crowds that number in the thousands and so the Pharisee’s dinner attracts a lot of locally prominent people. I find it fascinating that one host found Jesus to be a rude and impudent guest, but the invitations kept coming with different results.

At this particular dinner, Jesus watches as guests clamored and connived for the “seats of honor” at their host’s table. Jesus used the moment to teach a lesson. Basically, if you take a place of honor for yourself and your host tells you to move to the foot of the table because someone more important deserves the seat of honor, your desire to be seen as the most prominent person in the room will turn into the exact opposite. You’ll be embarrassed in front of everyone as you slink to the only open seat as far from the seat of honor as possible. If, however, you are content to take that seat at the foot of the table and your host says, “No, my friend, come sit at my right hand at the head of the table,” then everyone at the dinner will notice as you are escorted to a place of honor.

What fascinated me this morning, is that later in the chapter Jesus seems to extend this same lesson about humility when He turns to the crowds and says, “Whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” This very well-known statement of Jesus loses the power of its meaning when Jesus said it to the crowds.

The Romans who were in control of the country were able to rule their empire for centuries, in part, because they found the most cruel and heinous ways of suppressing dissent, crime, and rebellion. Romans would tie a person to the back of two different chariots and then drive them in opposite directions until the person was quite literally pulled apart. Other victims of Rome would have molten metal poured into their mouths. One of Rome’s more creative means of torture and executions was to tie a person into a huge sack with a snake, a monkey, a dog, and a rooster and then throw the whole sack into the river. The animals would tear the person apart in their terror as they all drowned. According to the ancient philosopher, Seneca, however, it was crucifixion that was the worst torture of all.

“Is there really such a thing as a person who would prefer wasting away in pain on a cross – rather than dying quickly? Would anyone be willing to choose to be fastened to that cursed tree, especially after the beating that left him deathly weak, deformed, swelling with vicious welts on shoulders and chest, and struggling to draw every last breath?”
Seneca, Moral Letters, 101

In separate writings, Seneca described how each crucifixion could vary depending on the executioner, with different ways to sadistically amp up the pain and suffering of the victim.

“I see right in front of me different kinds of crosses made by different people. Some hang their victims upside down. Some impale them through the private parts. Others stretch out their arms onto forked poles.I see ropes, whips, and tools of torture crafted for specific limbs and joints.
Seneca, Dialogue, To Marcia on Consolation, 6.20

In Jesus’ day, crucifixion was a very common and public spectacle. Romans typically had people crucified on the road just outside a town or city. As Jesus and His followers made their way to Jerusalem, town-by-town, they would pass crucified individuals tortured and hanging on crosses that they were humiliated and forced to carry themselves to the place of their execution. I think it very reasonable that Jesus may have been making his way walking out of town with His disciples, entourage, and crowds when they came upon the sight of a criminal carrying his cross under Roman guard. I can imagine this sight caused Jesus to turn to the crowds and say: “And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”

There is a connection between this moment and His teaching at the Pharisee’s dinner party. Jesus said that humbly accepting the lowest position, even at the risk of social humility was what His followers should do. He then doubles down on this teaching by pointing to a bloody victim of torture, in complete agony, dragging the cross on which he will be killed, and says, “this is what you must do to be my disciple.”

In the few seconds of quiet I had this morning between the unrelenting barrage of a six-year-old’s questions and dancing the Macarena, I found myself thinking about my own willingness to choose humility. In a world that is all about popularity, likes, followers, status, and influence, how do I willingly choose into the lowest rung, the foot of the table, or carrying a cross today? On this day and the upcoming weekend of semi-controlled chaos, holiday festivities, family gatherings, friend gatherings, and hoop-la, how can I tangibly choose the attitude and consequential behaviors Jesus desires of me?

Have a very Merry Christmas, my friend. Thank you for reading, and following, and listening. I am grateful for you. If you don’t see a daily post in the weeks ahead, just know I’m probably doing the Macarena with my grandkids.

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

Privileged Citizen

“For, as I have often told you before and now tell you again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven.”
Philippians 3:18-20 (NIV)

It was our daughter who I first heard use the phrase “first world, white girl problems.” It made me laugh, and Wendy and I regularly conjure up the sentiment when catching ourselves getting bent out-of-shape by a simple annoyance in life that most of the inhabitants of this planet would love to have. As Wendy and I peruse the headlines and discuss current events, we often take a moment to recognize that it is our affluence that allows for the making of major issues of silly and/or trivial things.

Modern readers of Paul’s letters often have little or no knowledge of the historic location or circumstances of the people to whom Paul wrote and the cities in which they lived. But the history often provides important context that adds layers of new meaning to the words.

For example, the city of Philippi was a very affluent Roman city. The city had always enjoyed the prosperity that came from nearby gold mines. Gold mines needed heavy security, so it always had a strong military presence. The Romans treated Philippi as a colony for retired, highly influential military veterans. It was governed by two military officers appointed by Rome. For being a relatively small city, it was very affluent and patriotically Roman.

Of course, the culture of Rome was historically libertine. The Roman orgies rooted in the cult of Bacchus are the stuff of legend (see Bacchus in featured photo). Affluent Romans of high standing enjoyed prosperous lives and sensual indulgences. Roman citizenship (which was bought or bestowed to relative few) had its perks and privileges, and as military town full of retired veterans and Roman citizens, it strikes me as being kind of a gated community of its day.

Paul, by the way, was a citizen of Rome. Like everyone else, he understood its privileges. In fact, he commonly leveraged his citizenship and the privilege it carries. In one instance, Paul’s citizenship saved him from being scourged. Another privilege was that any Roman citizen who got in trouble with the law had the right to appeal their case to Caesar himself, which Paul did.

Followers of Jesus seeking to further Jesus’ teaching of moral constraint and generous care of societal outcasts didn’t exactly fit well in the culture of libertine Roman excess and affluence. At best, Romans made life difficult for followers of Jesus, at worst it outright persecuted them in heinous ways. It was into this cultural clash in Philippi that Paul was addressing to the believers there in his letter.

In today’s chapter, Paul reminds the believers in Philippi that their “Citizenship” was in heaven, and that both their minds and lives should be focused on things there. Every day they saw military retirees leveraging their Roman citizenship and affluence into a focus on making sure their waning days on earth were filled with an indulgence in earthly sensual appetites. Paul appeals to Jesus’ followers that their citizenship was in eternity, to which they would retire at the end of this earthly journey.

I can’t help but think of C.S. Lewis’ famous thoughts:

“If we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

“If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.”

In the quiet this morning, I find myself contemplating my own desires and appetites. The truth is that my reality is not unlike that of the followers of Jesus’ in Philippi. We are a culture that increasingly values and celebrates the indulgence of human appetites, even if our wholesale excesses fall short of Roman bacchanalia. What I find Paul pointing to is the same as Jesus when He urged His followers to invest earthly resources in heavenly treasure. Is my focus on earthly citizenship, appetites, and treasures, or my citizenship in heaven and treasures?

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

The “Human” Problem

The "Human" Problem (CaD 1 Sam 8) Wayfarer

But the people refused to listen to Samuel. “No!” they said. “We want a king over us. Then we will be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.”
1 Samuel 8:19-20 (NIV)

As a youth, I was always involved in student government. I served regularly from junior high and into my college years. There was a period of time in those years that I dreamed of running for elected office as an adult. A few years ago I ran into one of my high school classmates at a coffee shop. As we enjoyed a casual conversation and caught up on each other’s lives she asked me if I still thought about running for office. I told her that the desire left me a very long time ago. She graciously teased me about reconsidering. It was kind of her.

Along my life journey, I’ve come to the conclusion that the problem with any human government is the fact that humans are involved. It has been famously observed in history that power corrupts, and it is true. Even with all the checks and balances the founders of the United States placed in the Constitution to diminish the possibility, an objective glance at Washington D.C. reveals all kinds of waste, fraud, and abuse that result from corruption at all levels.

In today’s chapter, the Hebrew people come to Samuel, who was leading the tribes as a Judge, and demand that he appoint a king and establish a monarchy. This didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s been brewing for some time.

What I found fascinating in today’s chapter was the fact that what brought the issue of national governance to a head was the fact that Samuel’s own sons, whom Samuel had appointed as his successors, were corrupt, just as the sons of Eli had been corrupt in the time of Samuel’s childhood and youth. I don’t think it is a coincidence. It’s a pattern and a very human one, just as it is tempting to believe that another form of human government will be better than the one under which you’re living. But I cannot escape the “human problem” on this earth. I can discuss the relative merits and downsides of every form of human government that’s ever been tried in the history of civilization, but there are always downsides to every system of government because human beings are involved and no matter how much I want to believe that humans can be good and altruistic history has proven that at some point the one(s) in power take advantage of their power in the system to personally benefit.

This is what God tells Samuel to remind his fellow Hebrews. Having a king will bring certain benefits, but the monarchy is also going to have negative consequences that the people and their descendants will experience acutely. This is correct. The rest of 1 Samuel and the next five books in the Great Story (2 Samuel, 1 Kings, 2 Kings, 1 Chronicles, and 2 Chronicles) are a testament to the truth of Samuel’s words.

As I ponder these things I am reminded of the Apostle Paul who was, himself, a citizen of Rome and took full advantage of the exclusive rights and benefits that came with it in his day. He also reminded Jesus’ followers in Philippi that they were citizens of God’s heavenly Kingdom. In that same vein, I consciously consider myself as having dual citizenship with the rights and responsibilities that come with both U.S. citizenship and citizenship in God’s eternal kingdom. One of those citizenships will end at some point while the other will not.

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

“Gonna Change My Way of Thinking”

"Gonna Change My Way of Thinking" (CaD Rev 9) Wayfarer

The rest of mankind who were not killed by these plagues still did not repent of the work of their hands…
Revelation 9:20a (NIV)

I find it fascinating that our world continues to use Hitler and the Nazis as the ultimate metaphor for evil. Given their lust for power, their unbridled ambition, and the atrocities they unleashed on this earth, it’s an apt metaphor in many ways. I have heard it argued that true evil will not respond to anything but overpowering force. It could be argued that World War II is an example of that principle. We continue to hold Hitler and his Nazis as our favorite metaphor for evil. Of course, metaphor loses its power when it is applied loosely and flippantly in unwarranted situations, but that’s a different post for another day.

Today’s chapter describes the fifth and sixth “trumpet judgments” on the earth that John saw in his vision. The fifth is a plague of locusts another plague that parallels the plagues on Egypt in the time of Moses. The locusts are described with monstrous imagery and led by “the angel of the Abyss.” The locusts torture earth’s inhabitants until they beg to die.

When the sixth angel sounds its trumpet, four angels at the Euphrates River are loosed along with a countless multitude of mounted troops with horses that spew fire, smoke, and sulfur. One-third of the earth’s inhabitants are killed. While this plague does not have a parallel to the ten plagues of Egypt, its imagery had a clear parallel to Roman citizens in the first century. The Parthian Empire was right across the Euphrates River to the east of the Roman Empire, and the Parthians were the only enemy that the Roman Legions could not defeat. Parthia’s mounted archers could ride forward and shoot backward, and their unpredictable battle tactics made them one foe that Rome did not want to face. Romans feared the day that Parthia’s mounted army attacked and John’s vision would have directly stirred these fears.

Along my spiritual journey, I’ve observed that it’s easy to get lost in the minute details of apocalyptic literature. I recall one arrogant professor I once had who famously lectured on the end times and sold volumes of his recordings on the subject. I remember some of his interpretations being so rooted in the geopolitical world of the cold war that I highly doubt they would make sense today.

Instead of getting buried in the minutia, I tend to pull back to try and see the big picture. I believe the rather obvious parallels between the judgments of Revelation and the plagues of Egypt are more than a coincidence. In the Exodus, God unleashed 10 plagues on Egypt in an effort to get a hard-hearted Pharaoh to repent and free the Hebrews from slavery. In Revelation God unleashes plagues on the earth in an effort to get hard-hearted humanity to repent and be free from the shackles of sin.

The hard-hearted Pharaoh refused to repent. So does humanity in John’s vision.

And so, I find my thoughts wandering back to the nature of evil and to history. The Nuremberg Trials and the flight of top Nazi officials to places like Argentina revealed how unrepentant and hard-hearted were the individuals who unleashed unspeakable atrocities on humanity for their own power and pride. To this day, the stories of powerful families and corporations who fueled the Nazi regime and remain unrepentant for their past continue to come out.

So in the quiet, I find myself thinking about the simple act of repentance. It means a change of heart that leads to a change in direction. It means to spiritually stop, turn, and go the other way. As Bob Dylan sings it: “Gonna change my way of thinkin’, make myself a different set of rules. Gonna put my good foot forward and stop being influenced by fools.” It’s what Pharaoh refused to do. It’s what Hitler’s henchmen refused to do. It’s what humanity refuses to do in the end times according to today’s chapter.

And, on this Monday morning, I once again find myself humbly admitting that I don’t know what every one of John’s visions means. I’m sorry that I can’t reveal it to you with smug certainty like my old professor and the multi-cassette volumes he was happy to sell to anyone. Here’s what I do know for certain. My heart, my thoughts, and my subsequent words and actions can easily become rooted in pride rather than humility, in selfishness rather than generosity, in anger rather than kindness, in vengeance rather than forgiveness, and in hatred rather than in love. Every day of this earthly journey is an opportunity for me to have the self-awareness to catch myself, stop, and choose to go in the opposite direction; To choose good rather than evil.

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

Wayfarer Weekend Podcast: Where it’s All Going

This week’s Wayfarer Weekend podcast comes on the heels of the most contentious Presidential election in recent history during the most strange year of our lifetimes. Where is it all going? Thoughts from a “wayfaring stranger traveling through this world of woe.”

(WW) A Wayfarer's Thoughts: Where it's All Going Wayfarer

Finding God Inside and Outside the Box

Jesus went on to say, “To what, then, can I compare the people of this generation? What are they like? They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling out to each other:
“‘We played the pipe for you,
    and you did not dance;
we sang a dirge,
    and you did not cry.’

Luke 7:31-32 (NIV)

Recently I was having a conversation with a leader in my local gathering of Jesus’ followers. He shared with me that it is quite common for locals to come to him, give witness to immoral, hypocritical, and evil words and actions done by members of our gathering, and then proceed to state that if this is the way followers of Jesus behave, then they want nothing to do with it.

Welcome to humanity.

Along my life journey, I have encountered individuals who would in no way fit inside the box of the particular brand of Christianity in which I find myself. In fact, they would eschew any notion of wearing that label. That said, I can see in these individuals’ lives and actions that they understand and embrace the things of God far more than many who live and operate inside the box and proudly advertise our brand on the bumpers of their cars.

In today’s chapter, Dr. Luke shares two stories that highlight the reality of non-religious people who “get” the things of God and religious people who don’t. It has always been a part of humanity, and Jesus encountered it regularly.

In the first encounter, Jesus is blown away by the faith of an ungodly, foreign leader whom most (if not all) of His followers would label their enemy. Jesus never even sees or meets this Roman Centurion in person. His exchange is completely done by intermediaries. First, Jesus is petitioned by leaders of his own religious box to heal a Roman Centurion’s servant. This, in and of itself, was way out of the ordinary. The Jews hated the Romans who militarily occupied their homeland, and the average Roman soldier treated the local Jewish population with natural distrust and contempt. The Jews and Romans were bitter enemies. When the Jewish leaders to speak highly of this Centurion’s kindness and generosity to Jesus’ people, it captured Jesus’ attention.

On the way to meet with the Centurion, Jesus is met by servants of the Centurion. In the Jewish tradition of the day, it would be unlawful for Jesus to enter the Centurion’s house. The Centurion knew this and humbly sends his servants to give a message to Jesus. The Roman’s message was to tell Jesus that He doesn’t have to take the risk religiously “dirtying” Himself by entering the Centurion’s home and the social criticism Jesus would receive from His own people by doing so. He trusted that if Jesus simply gave the word, his servant would be healed.

In the second story, Jesus is having dinner with one of the good, upstanding leaders of his own religious box. A woman enters and approaches Jesus. In that town, this was that woman. Everyone knew who she was by her reputation. It doesn’t take much imagination to fill in the blanks: wanton, loose, used, cheap, pitiful, tragic. Not only did she not belong inside any kind of religious box, but no one inside the box wanted her there. But, like the foreign Centurion, this local social skank gets who Jesus is, and what God is doing through Him. She falls at Jesus’ feet blesses Him with all that she has: her contrite tears, her loving kisses, and some perfume.

Jesus immediately perceives the religious contempt of his host toward the local woman. This upstanding church elder had likely known who this woman was for her entire life and had probably ignored her and held her in self-righteous contempt. Jesus makes it clear to His host that she gets the things of God more than he.

In the midst of these stories, Jesus describes religious people:

They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling out to each other:
“‘We played the pipe for you,
    and you did not dance;
we sang a dirge,
    and you did not cry.’

In other words, we who are religious tend to expect everyone to fit inside our religious boxes and do what we prescribe. Inside of our religious boxes, we expect people to look like us, speak our lingo fluently, know our traditions, and behave in a way we deem acceptable.

Of course, the look, the lingo, the traditions, and the expected behaviors may have little or nothing to do with truly getting the things that God actually cares about.

I am reminded this morning that Jesus faithfully lived and operated inside the religious box of His people. He went to the Temple. He taught in the synagogues. He dined, socialized, and befriended the religious leaders. He followed the religious customs and traditions. Jesus’ example tells me that the things of God can be surely found, learned, and embraced inside of my religious box.

But Jesus’ example in today’s chapter also reminds me of this truth: There will always be individuals inside my religious box who don’t get the things of God, and there will always be individuals outside of my religious box who do.

Exaggerating My Exaggeration

You know that everyone in the province of Asia has deserted me, including Phygelus and Hermogenes.
2 Timothy 1:15 (NIV)

People always seem surprised when I tell them that I am, by nature, a pessimist. I think I hide it fairly well under my typically extroverted person. You can ask Wendy, and she can tell you about the annoying bookends of my temperament: pessimism and exaggeration. Not only do I regularly see the glass as half-empty, but I see it as the most half-empty glass that has ever been half-empty, and it’s destined to stay that way forever because fate itself has conspired against me since the beginning of time and always will!

You see? I’ve just exaggerated how much I exaggerate!

Hopeless.

Arrrrghh. I can’t help myself.

This morning I begin 2 Timothy which is the last surviving letter that Paul wrote. As he sits down with his stylus, ink well, and papyrus to write his faithful, young protégé, Paul had been in Roman custody for years.  Using his right as a Roman citizen, Paul appealed his case to Caesar. Not only do the wheels of Romany bureaucracy move slowly, but Paul had caused riots and pesky controversies that disturbed Roman peace and order wherever he went. Keeping him languishing in chains was likely to have been an easy decision for the Emporer to make. Having been taken to Rome to await his audience with the leader of the Roman Empire, Paul waited, and waited, and waited.

Reading the opening chapter in the quiet this morning, I can feel the melancholy and emotion. Memories, tears, constant prayers, and exhortation are present. As Paul writes about his own faith I can almost feel him reminding himself and affirming himself. He then tells Timothy that everyone in the province of Asia had deserted him, which he then immediately contradicts by describing how the runaway slave, Onesiphorus, sought Paul out and “refreshed him.”

I can totally forgive Paul a bit of gloom and exaggeration. Paul has spent years in Roman custody. He’s got legit reasons to be a little downcast and dramatic. I can go there when the Cubs lose.

Perspective.

And, that’s where I find my mind and spirit in the quiet this morning.  I’d like to believe that one of the reasons people are surprised to find out I’m a pessimist is that I’ve actually gotten better about recognizing it, catching myself, and consciously, in-the-moment, doing the inner work of choosing a different mental and emotional path. Doing so usually requires mentally reciting and embracing a few key passages of God’s Message that I’ve memorized, saying a few quick popcorn prayers, and going through a few positive mantras.

Looking back, I know I’m not as bad as I used to be. I’m pretty sure Wendy would affirm that, as well. That is, once again, why this is a journey. Slow and steady wins the race.

Pressin’ on into a new week.

All the best to you wherever you find yourself in your own journey, my friend. Cheers!