“Be still and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!” – Psalm 46:10
There is so much noise.
So much noise in our world today.
So much noise in my own mind and heart and soul.
I long for peace.
Maybe you do too. Maybe you’re like me and just want to turn off the noise of racism and viruses and shouting voices of dissension and hate and destruction.
Our Creator summons us. He calls to us. Not in the loudness, not in the chaos, not in the fear that threatens to consume our world.
Our Creator whispers to us.
Can you hear Him?
Are you listening?
As I have journeyed into the historic Church, one of the things I find so glaringly is a lack of noise. The great saints of our tradition, great minds of Christian thought and the Church Fathers all seemed to have some things in common.
One thing I noticed that they all seem to have in common is quiet; a quiet heart and mind, kneeling before God our Maker to listen. There is a contemplative depth to their writings and prayers and liturgy and thought that we seem to lack today…even in the Church. As I’ve thought about why that is, I really think it’s a lack of stillness.
I wonder…are we afraid of stillness? Are we afraid of what we’ll find when we come before God and sit in silence and wait for His voice, His Word to us? What will we find?
There is so much that seems uncertain in our lives, our homes, our world. The world seems to be shifting on some spiritual and sociologically tectonic plates constantly. Nothing seems solid. Nothing seems certain.
In this time of uncertainty, God calls us to know. He tells us that there is a Rock in our ever-shifting world. There is a Cornerstone. Truth exists and it stands unbroken before and after all time.
“…that I am God.”
It seems like everything these days is up for grabs…including identity. We take our identity cues from what we see on TV, social media, the mass media, our friends. So-called gender fluidity and racism and all of it threatens to overwhelm us and we don’t even know who we are anymore. Don’t think for one instance that our great enemy, Satan, isn’t behind all of this. But, in the midst of all our identity crisis, we can know one thing for certain.
One thing that has never changed and will never change.
One thing that has stood before all time and will stand when time as we know it passes away.
He is and always was and always will be.
He is the great I AM.
He is YHWH, the unnamed One.
His identity has never changed. He remains unchanged. Oh, what comfort that brings me! I pray it brings you comfort as well!
I just want you to know that God is and always has been and always will be.
And He desperately loves you. He loves you so much that He was willing to become incarnate, to become His own creation so that He could remake you and me and us into a new creation.
One fit for a perfect relationship with Him for all time.
Did you hear me?
You who are tired and weary and trying to block out the noise…God loves you.
Be still before Him…His peace will come.
Know that there is Truth. That truth has a name. His name is Jesus, Yeshua, the Son of the Living God, begotten of the Father before all time; God from God, Light from Light.
He is God alone.
He is the One who has redeemed you.
He is the One who has come for you…because He loves you.
He is the One who is and was and always will be.
Rest in Him.
Do you hear Him?
It’s funny to me how things happen sometimes. Maybe funny isn’t the right word. Ironic is a better word. It’s ironic to me how things happen sometimes. I asked for suggestions on what to write about and two people suggested I write about things revolving around sin.
Here’s where irony comes in.
I’m doing an in-depth study right now through the gospel of Luke, while listening to a podcast, clearly a Sunday School type class, of an Orthodox priest teaching through the same. It’s been really good so far.
So yesterday, two people suggest I write about sin and this morning, the text covered was Luke 7:36-50. Take some time before continuing to read this text, ‘cause I’m not going to quote the whole thing. So, after going through this text this morning, I was struck by a couple of things. I was struck by the fact that I am much less like the woman and much more like the Pharisee in this story. And I was struck by the tender love and mercy of our Lord.
Let me explain.
Simon, our Pharisee in this story, is hosting Jesus for dinner. A word about Pharisees before we proceed, since we see them featured so prominently in the gospels. I don’t think the Pharisees were evil dudes. Granted, the murder of our Lord was at the hand of the Romans at the behest of the Pharisees and others in the ruling religious elite of Israel at the time. Having said that, I still don’t think the Pharisees were all evil dudes. They were, in the best way they knew how at the time, genuinely trying to serve God and obey His commands.
Yes of course they made up more rules than the Torah did and of course they missed the boat when it came to Jesus. But they weren’t just being mean. They were actually trying to follow God’s commands. Granted, they went a little overboard but they were trying, which is more than can be said for most of the Gentiles at the time.
Where things went sideways with the Pharisees, especially this one in this text, is that they began to believe that, because they were so good at keeping the rules, they didn’t need a Saviour. Why would they need some dirt poor peasant from Nazareth preaching to them when they had it all figured out? I mean, they were really good at following the rules.
The problem was is that their legalism had led them to pride. At least, it certainly did for Simon in this text. See, he didn’t invite Jesus over for dinner because he wanted to sit at His feet and learn and worship. He invited Jesus over because he wanted to find a way to discredit Him. Simon was motivated by pride.
Contrast that with this woman. We are never given her name. All we know is that Luke says she was a “woman of the city, who was a sinner.” A pretty vague description, don’t you think? But here’s what we do know about her. She stood behind Jesus’ feet. She wouldn’t even look Him in the eyes, probably never even looked up. Instead, she groveled at the feet of Jesus. She wept. In fact, she wept so much that she soaked Jesus’ feet. In fact, she washed His feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. Her hair, ya’ll. Then she kissed his feet and anointed Him with fragrant ointment.
Ever wonder how awkward this encounter was for everyone in the room? I mean, don’t you think it got awfully quiet while this was going on?
Notice Simon’s pride. He thinks to himself, “If this dude were really who everyone says he is…and who he says he is, he would know who this woman is and wouldn’t be hanging around with her.”
Here’s more irony. Jesus reads Simon’s mind. Look at the text. Verse 39 says he thought it. It’s ironic that, when Jesus then speaks to Simon about what Simon is thinking about, Simon doesn’t even seem to realize that Jesus just read his mind. Ironic, isn’t it?
But here is where we see the tender mercy of Jesus, even for this arrogant legalist. Jesus calls him by name. He says, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” He doesn’t berate him, even though He has read his mind and knows his arrogance. He doesn’t even call him a white-washed tomb or anything like that. He calls him by his name and tells him a story to point out to him where his own faith has fallen short. How tender and merciful our Lord is, even to those of us who are arrogant. See, Simon had a lot of knowledge about God. He knew the Torah and was faithful to follow it. But, Simon needed to learn something else.
Knowledge doesn’t trump humility.
Then, Jesus turns to the woman and says to her, “Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” Oh, how tender our Lord is!
So, let me ask you…
Are you more like Simon or the woman? I have to admit that I am far too often like Simon. I pray (twice) daily and read the Scriptures. I go to Mass (when we’re not quarantined). I follow the rules (mostly) and I have a lot of theological knowledge. But, can I just confess something?
I don’t remember the last time I wept over my sins.
The grace of our Lord extends to all, even those of us whom have not recently (or ever) wept over our sins. The grace of God extends even to Simon and all the other legalists out there.
Would you join me in praying that the Spirit would break our hearts for our sins? Would you join me in falling at the feet of Jesus and, by His mercy, hearing those wonderful words:
“Your sins are forgiven. Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
Maybe what we need is a lot more humility and a lot less hubris.