Tulum, Quintana Roo, Mexico

Tulum, Quintana Roo, Mexico
Mayan ruins still stand watch over the Caribbean Sea. They are ruins, that’s all, no transforming faith, no following today, no god that is still worshiped, no one willing to “provoke the lions” to celebrate the faith, and no God Almighty Creator of the earth and sea…just dead old ruins that iguanas now inhabit watching over the beautiful sea.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

"The Last of All, The Servant of All"

“The last of all, the servant of all”…Jesus’ very own words to his quarreling disciples reach us today with startling simplicity.  These words capture our attention and we desire to live them, but once again we often fall so short.  In frustration we wonder, what does it really mean?  How are these words lived out in our culture today?  Are there any living examples?  Often we settle on the term “servant leadership”.  We like its sound, especially the leadership part.  It has a ring of authority expressed in a very likeable fashion.  It warms our hearts, but it does not fill or satisfy our deepest longing and need.  This is especially true when we encounter a lack of true leadership in our own church or place of ministry and experience the wounds and heartache that come as a result. 

How did Jesus live out this radical saying?   His entire life was an example of his words, but we must choose a few examples.  Remember with me…Someone should have thought about the need for washing dirty feet after a long day of walking in the dust.  Someone was responsible to take care of this detail.  Someone should have been aware that he forgot and that he should do something.  Someone should have realized that this was a special moment in the life of the Master.  Someone failed, and bless his heart, we don’t even know who it was!  How many times do we ask the question, “who was supposed to do this”?  “It’s not my responsibility”! How much time is wasted looking to place the blame on poor old Someone?  The servant of all gets up dons the uniform of the servant and begins to wash nasty dirty feet.  No questions asked and no blame is assigned.  A service needed to be rendered and position would never impede Jesus from doing any task however low.  I wonder who was responsible.  Jesus knew and he simply served.  But, I still wonder who was responsible…and perhaps that is one reason that I know so little about being the last of all and the servant of all.

Remember with me…The people were making a mockery of God’s house of prayer, the temple.  They were buying and selling which always implies cheating and robbing.  There was no respect, no worship, and the picture was all wrong.  Can you see and smell the scene?  Bawling cattle, birds crowing, animal waste and food confront you at every turn. The sounds and smells must have been almost suffocating for the few worshipers who dared run the gauntlet.  If anything was ever wrong, this was it.  This was a desecration of all that was holy.  Where were the authorities?  Why did they not act?  Into this mass of sin and disdain moved the last of all and the servant of all.  With anger he threw down the tables, grabbed up a whip and began to force these merchants of greed right out of the temple.  Can you see the disciples?  “Oh my goodness, he has gone and done it now!”  “He is going to get into trouble.”  A sinful situation needed to be confronted and fear would never impede Jesus from doing any task however daunting.  I am sure that the disciples were worried about their own skins and I must say that I would probably be trembling with them…and perhaps that is one reason that I know so little about being the last of all and the servant of all.

Remember with me…He was bound and had been beaten in a most horrible fashion.  Complete fools had laughed at him, made fun of him, and even had spat on him.  Now he stood before the one man who had the power to free him.  How laughable since he knew that with one simple thought the power of almighty heaven would fall down with awesome destruction never seen before by man.  Jesus had at least two options for release.  He could speak to this man or to The Man and the nightmare would end.  The servant of all stood before his accusing creation and said nothing in his own defense.   The servant of all chose to give all of himself so that all of humankind could know peace and hope.  The future of all of life was on the line and death itself would not impede Jesus from giving his life however painful it was.   I wonder what Pilate thought in that moment.  Why doesn’t this man speak up?  How can he desire death?  I live my whole life with the sole purpose of avoiding death…what is wrong with this man?  These are the same questions we grapple with today…and perhaps that is yet another reason why we know so little about being the last of all and the servant of all.

The thread that runs through each of these scenes in the life of Jesus is that of selflessness.  The conscious putting aside of oneself to give to others is not something bred into the human soul, rather, it is something imparted by the Creator.  To be the servant of all and the last of all I must decide to put others first confronting the suffocating “meism” of our day.  It seems that many of our problems within the church stem from this desperate need to have everything work out for me and mine.  We become shoppers looking for the bouncing smiley face of better deals for newer “stuff”.   Jesus really isn’t sufficient for me when I go looking for the perfect spiritual setting to meet all my needs the way I want them to be met.  It would seem that to truly be the last of all and the servant of all I will have to not only put aside my own demands for comfort, but also insist on a consistently deepening walk with Jesus as my ultimate need.  Selflessness means that I understand that my value is not found in what I do, but rather, in whom God determines me to be.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

A Parable (sort of)
Caged Lion Watching

Why don’t I tremble in fear while watching lions pace toward me at the zoo?  Safety is the simple answer.  I know (at least experience has taught me) that the lion cannot get out of his enclosure.  The zoo authorities reassure me that this wild beast cannot do me any harm and so I am free to simply observe. Standing there in my semi-expensive water repelling shorts, my cool flip-flops, nice (un-ironed shirt), while sipping on my designer coffee I can watch the lion pace back and forth.  If I concentrate enough I can even begin to marvel at his beauty and incredible power. I might even comment to someone near by or surreptitiously listen in on another’s inspired comments. The first few times of observing the king of the beasts brings me joy enough; for it seems worth the money and the time.  After a while it just gets a bit boring, this non-olympic event called “observing”, and so I look for a tad more action.  Maybe we can feed the lion and watch it tear the meat to shreds, or what if we put a lion tamer in the cage? Now something like that would be worth my while. Overall I want to be in a safe place, and I feel reassured when I hear the Zookeeper say, “you are in a safe place”.  I know that the Zookeeper is under quite a bit of pressure to make this viewing of the lion appealing enough for me to return, but as long as it is the best show in town, I guess that I will keep going.  Don’t ask me to be more than a paying observer.  Make sure that I am always safe. Keep me interested or I may start going down the road to the aquarium because I hear that the sharks are pretty amazing, a little scary, but still safe…

What if the Lion could get out of the enclosure?  Can He? Do I really want Him to get out?

I have heard that people used to go watch the Lion at the Zoo because that was just what you did.  It was a matter of discipline rather than entertainment value.  It seems to me that whatever the reason might be, the core problem remains the same.  It is how we view the Zoo; we see it as a zoo. Caged lion watching is safe.  The Lion is not…safe, that is.

What if there was a place where I could go and walk with the Lion?  What if there was a place that I could hear His voice?  I would surely tremble.  I would fall on my face and plead with Him to not consume me. I would cringe as His terrible velvet paws gently wiped away tears and sorrow. I might even say something like, “woe is me, for I am a man of unclean lips.”  What I can tell you for sure is that Caged Lion Watching would seem utterly empty and perhaps irreverent?

Stephen F. Scarrow
August 8, 2012