Have you ever wondered what Jesus meant when he said “‘Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.'” (Matt 10:39)?

Legend has it that a man was lost in the desert, just dying for a drink of water. He stumbled upon an old shack – a ramshackled, windowless, roofless, weatherbeaten old shack. He looked about this place and found a little shade from the heat of the desert sun. As he glanced around he saw a pump about fifteen feet away – an old, rusty water pump. He stumbled over to it, grabbed the handle and began to pump up and down, up and down. Nothing came out.

Disappointed, he staggered back. He noticed off to the side an old jug. He looked at it, wiped away the dirt and dust, and read a message that said, “You have to prime the pump with all the water in this jug, my friend. P.S.: Be sure you fill the jug again before you leave.”

He popped the cork out of the jug and sure enough, it was almost full of water! Suddenly, he was faced with a decision. If he drank the water, he could live. Ah, but if he poured all the water in the old rusty pump, maybe it would yield fresh, cool water from down deep in the well, all the water he wanted.

He studied the possibility of both option. What should he do, pour it into the old and take a chance on fresh, cool water or drink what was in the old jug and ignore its message? Should he waste all the water on the hopes of those flimsy instructions written, no telling how long ago?

Reluctantly he poured all the water into the pump. Then he grabbed the handle and began to pump, squeak, squeak, squeak. Still nothing came out! Squeak, squeak, squeak. A little bit began to dribble out, then a small stream, and finally it gushed! To his relief fresh, cool water poured out of the rusty pump. Eagerly, he filled the jug and drank from it. He filled it another time and once again drank its refreshing contents.

Then he filled the jug for the next traveler. He filled it to the top, popped the cork back on, and added this little not: “Believe me, it really works. You have to give it all away before you can get anything back.”

- Charles R. Swindoll, Living Above the Level of Mediocrity (quoted in Swindoll’s Ultimate Book of Illustrations and Quotes [Thomas Nelson, Inc., 1998] p. 197)

What are you hanging on to? Do you have a death-grip on a particular possession, idea, relationship, job or position? Are you reluctant to give stuff over to God because you are afraid you will be left without? Perhaps you are in a relationship with someone, and you feel insecure when they spend time with other people. Or maybe you have a plan for your life and are unwilling to accept anything that doesn’t fit in.

Let me tell you, unless you are willing to give those things and those relationships over to God, you will ultimately lose them. If you do entrust them to his care, however, he will multiply them amazingly! By trying to hold on to what we have, we risk everything. But if we surrender all in accordance with God’s instruction and will, we will receive all that we ever need… and more!

To get a pilot’s licence, you have to get an “instrument rating”. This means that you understand the instruments that your plane is equipped with – compass, altimeter etc. – and are capable of flying your plane using those and nothing else should the need arise. This is important, because otherwise it is easy to become disoriented when flying through fog or cloud. In some circumstances it is even possible for pilots to suffer what is called vertigo – ‘up’ and ‘down’ become confused, and you feel like you’re upright when you’re actually upside down.

To be able to fly using instruments only, a pilot needs the following:

• Good instruments: What’s the point in relying on your instruments if they are telling you the wrong thing? Even a slightly misaligned compass can lead you a long way off course.
• Understanding: You need to know how to use your instruments in order for them to be useful. You could hand me a compass, or a GPS device, but unless I had been taught how to use it it would be nothing more than a paperweight to me.
• Faith: Sometimes a pilot has to believe his instruments, even when they are in direct contradiction to what his senses are telling him.

I believe that Christians, too, need to get an “instrument rating”. Too easily we can get caught up in what our senses are telling us about the world that we are deceived. I believe that this is what happened for John the Baptist, when he sent word to Jesus to ask if he really was the Messiah, or if they should be looking for someone else (Matthew 11:2-6). This was a bit of a strange question, really, since John had been one of the very first to proclaim Jesus as the Messiah (Matthew 3:13-17), and had witnessed “the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting on him.” (16) and the “voice from heaven” proclaiming “‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.'” (17).

Things had taken a bit of a bad turn for John since then, however, and he was now in gaol and facing death. Is it any wonder that he began to think that something must have gone wrong somewhere?

Jesus’ response serves to remind John of his instruments. First, he suggests that John needs to consider more than just his immediate surroundings – he tells the messenger to let John know about all the wonderful things that are happening. The things he specifically directs the messengers to take not of, however, are particularly important as they are things spoken of in the scriptures as being indicative of the Messiah. Jesus is commanding, “Go back to your Bible and compare what you find there with what your disciples report – then answer the question for yourself.”

The Bible is Jesus’ answer to not knowing which way is up and which way down. When being tempted in the desert (Matthew 4:1-11), it is scripture which Jesus relies upon in overcoming Satan. If he allowed himself to be caught up in his own situation (I love the subtly understated “After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry” (2)!) then Satan’s suggestions would no doubt have seemed like good sense – after all, how could he possibly be any good to anyone if he starved to death? Perhaps it would be easier to accept the world from Satan’s hand as a gift, rather than pay the price to buy it back. But Jesus knew the scriptures and trusted that the words spoken there were truth, even though his senses and his understanding of the world he was in right then and there were screaming there was a better way.

We need that instrument for ourselves. We need to know what the Bible says in order to know what is right. We need to rely on scripture to navigate us through the fog of this life. We need to trust God’s word, even when it seems totally contrary to what our senses are telling us.

Are you instrument rated?

This week we continue last week’s post on vessels. If you didn’t read it, read it now – we’ll wait You can find it here.

Clean Vessel
Over time, a vessel of honour would start to get dirty, and would develop a thick film of scum on the inside, leading to the water tasting foul. Or perhaps the lip or handle would wear away through constant use. In this case the owner, rather than throwing it out and getting another one, would take it back to the potter. The potter would then go through the following process: first he would empty it; he would use stiff brushes to break up the layer of scum; he would fix the lip; and finally, he would return it to the fire of the kiln.

I believe that we, too, can become jaded. Perhaps, through long use, we are feeling worn. Maybe our lips are no longer the accurate espousers of God’s Word that they once were. Possibly the taint of sarcasm pervades everything we say, leaving a foul taste in the mouths of those who would otherwise quench their thirst with gusto. And God’s response is the same as the potter’s: he empties us of all the things that have gone bad; he cleans out the filth, sometimes through (painful) scouring; he fixes our lip(s); he returns us to the fire of the kiln.

If you feel like this is you, be encouraged. The Potter is too careful with his work to simply let it go to waste. He will not suffer it to remain a source of bitterness. And after he has restored you, you may well go on to do even better things than before. Consider, for example, Isaiah 66:20, “They will bring them, as the Israelites bring their grain offerings, to the temple of the LORD in ceremonially clean vessels.” (NIV)

Vessel of Dishonour
You might remember that there were 3 vessels on the stand outside the front door of the Judean house? The third vessel, after the vessel of honour and the drinking vessel to go with it, is the vessl of dishonour. Essentially, this was the Judean garbage can.

Sometimes, when making a vessel, the potter would notice some flaw, some inconsistency that meant it was sub-standard. He would then put this in his yard for sale as a vessel of dishonour. Once purchased, this vessel would sit on the stand by the doorway until full, at which time it would be thrown away and another purchased instead.

Paul makes it clear, in writing to Timothy, that men and women have a choice about whether to be a vessel of honour or a vessel of dishonour.

In a large house there are articles [skeuos] not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay; some are for noble purposes. If a man cleanses himself from the latter, he will be an instrument [skeuos] for noble purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.

- 2 Timothy 2:20-21 (NIV) (emphasis added)

Broken Vessel
Sometimes a vessel comes out of the kiln cracked. You or I would probably throw such a thing away and start again, but that is not the Potter’s way. Instead, when the day’s work was done, he would head out into the fields to collect mosquitoes, bloated on the blood of bulls and goats. He would then take them back and grind them up, before mixing them with dry clay powder. Together, the blood and the powder would form a type of glue, which the potter would then lovingly work into the cracks, before re-firing in the kiln. He would do this again and again, until the vessel is complete.

This is God’s method, also, for dealing with brokenness. Instead of the blood of bulls and goats, however, he uses the saving blood of Jesus to restore us to wholeness. He works that blood into every corner of our lives, until we are complete.

Vessel of Wrath
Sometimes, however, the vessel will not accept the blood. In such a case, the potter is left with no option but to throw it away – he has invested all that he can in making and then restoring that vessel, but there comes a point where he must say, “Enough!”

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I can leave you with no better challenge than the one Eugene Peterson gives in his translation of 2 Timothy 2:21 (the passage we started with):

Become the kind of container God can use to present any and every kind of gift to his guests for their blessing.

- 2 Timothy 2:21 (Message)

Amen.

I’ve been listening to a number of podcasts by Bayless Conley (available at answersbc.org), and there was one in particular that caught my attention, and that I wanted to share parts of here over this week and next week. It has to do with vessels.

In simplest form, as vessel is anything that can act as a container e.g. a jar, a bowl, a cup etc. What they contain can be vastly different, depending on the purpose for which they were created. Conley describes 7 different kinds of vessel used in biblical times:

Vessels of honour
Outside of every Judean home would have been a stand with 3 vessels on it: a vessel of honour, a vessel of dishonour and a small drinking vessel. Whilst we will come to the vessel of dishonour later on, it is the vessel of honour that we are initially interested in.

The vessel of honour was the largest of the three, and was used to hold water. In a time before running water to the home, this would have been the main source of water for the family, as well as for guests to the home. The water would have been used for drinking (hence the drinking vessel on the stand) and washing of hands & feet. It would have been refilled daily.

This is the image that Paul is drawing on as he writes to Timothy:

In a large house there are articles not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay; some are for noble purposes and some for ignoble. If a man cleanses himself from the latter, he will be an instrument for noble purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.

- 2 Timothy 2:20-21 (NIV)

The word translated “articles” is the greek word skeuos (σκευος). It has been variously translated “article” (as here in the NIV), “instrument”, “container”, “jar” or “vessel”. Assuming “vessel” as the correct translation here (as do the KJV & NASB, for example), Paul is urging Timothy to be a ‘vessel of honour’, or, as The Message puts it, “the kind of container God can use to present any and every kind of gift to his guests for their blessing.” (v. 21).

By custom almost as strong as law, it was forbidden to refuse anyone a drink from your vessel of honour as you were carrying it back from filling it up at the well. Hence, when Jesus asks the Samaritan woman for a drink at the well (see John 4:1-10), it would have been nearly as much of a scandal for her to refuse as it was for him to be talking to a Samaritan woman in the first place!

I believe that this instruction to Timothy is one that Paul would urge upon all of us also – are you “holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work?” If not, pray that God might make it so.

Vessel of Mercy
Similar to a vessel of honour, a vessel of mercy was a water jar kept in the town square. Its purpose was to provide water for any stranger to the town. Paul writes to the Romans that God chooses to “make the riches of his glory known to the objects [skeuos] of his mercy.” (Romans 9:23, NIV)

You see, whereas the vessel of honour was primarily kept in the home or the temple, special provision was made for those who were a part of neither. Paul is explaining that God has similarly made allowance for those who are not in Christian homes, who are not a part of a church. If the water is the news of God’s saving grace through Jesus, then the vessel of mercy would be those whose calling is to evangelism. This is not to say that only some Christians have the responsibility for sharing the gospel – remember, anybody could ask for a drink from the vessel of honour – but rather to say that God sets apart people whose specific purpose is to “make the riches of his glory known.”

Chosen Vessel
On occasion, you might have need of a particularly special vessel, for a very specific purpose e.g. as a wedding gift, or to celebrate/commemorate an occasion. In this case, you would go to the potter, and ask for a ‘chosen vessel’. The potter might raise an eyebrow, and would probably ask you what you required it for, before turning and walking by himself into the back room, where he keeps his very best work. After selecting an appropriate vessel, the potter does one last thing: he turns it upside down and gently chisels his mark.

You see, by asking for a chosen vessel, you are asking the potter to choose for you. After all, he knows his work, he knows which is good, which is not so good, and which is his absolute best. A chosen vessel represents his utmost skill and effort, and he puts his name on it because he knows that he will never be put to shame by it.

Consider, then, the impact of the following words God speaks to Ananias:

Go! This man [Paul] is my chosen instrument [skeuos] to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings and before the people of Israel.

- Acts 9:15 (NIV)

God, the Master Potter, says of Paul, “He is my chosen vessel, my finest work, selected and crafted by me for a very specific, very important purpose.”

This week I wanted to share with you some thoughts that are over 100 years old, and yet still inspire me. The following is Teddy Roosevelt’s Speech before the Hamilton Club, Chicago, April 10, 1899. In it he speaks of how we are moulded into a work of art, a tool with a soul.

This is the tale of making a good sword, a really good one like the blademakers to the samurai made them. Damascus steel was folded a thousand times by hand and finished only with a stone – never shaped by other steel. The steel is purified by plunging it again and again into the fire – and not just any fire but the fire produced by bellows that others are pumping continually to get hot enough to melt the imperfect steel. The blade that is beginning to form is allowed to almost cool, and then it is hammered and re-plunged into the fire, over and over, and over again. Each time it comes out it is examined by the Master Craftsman to see if there is any flaw, any imperfection at all.

Each blade is thought to have a spirit of its own and some believe that the metal tells the Blademaster when it is finished, only he knows what this particular blade will be for. Once or twice in the master’s entire career comes the chance to shape metal that has a truly great soul residing in it.

When that happens the Blademaster stops work and goes and purifies himself and then comes back to the work that he will not cease doing until the blade is finished – he will not eat or sleep and will drink water only. He takes up the steel again and listens to its heart and begins again, heat… cool some and hammer, fold and heat… again and again. When the blade has been folded a thousand times or more and it speaks to him that it is done – only then does he rest. For only the soul inside the steel can say when it has been shaped enough. But the blade is still not finished.

A handle needs to be fitted so that the weapon – which now has become a work of art – can be wielded. Before the handle is set onto the blade though, the Blademaster sets his own secret emblem on the handle where it will remain hidden for all time, the handle is then wrapped and the tsuba, the guard that keeps your hand from slipping onto the blade but is more than just that is fitted. The tsuba also balances the blade and communicates the tastes and beliefs of the owner.

But the blade is still not finished.

For this is a weapon with a soul, one that comes singing out of its scabbard and will not return to it without tasting battle.

The Blademaster now starts to hone the blade but he does not use steel-for to abrade so great a soul against another would diminish both. He does it all by hand, and he uses a stone… a rock.

Carefully he wets the stone and draws the blade across it-one way only, with the grain of the soul… again and again… sometimes for weeks while all other pursuits are abandoned he concentrates all he has on that one edge, making it sharper that any other edge.

During this process the soul of the sword tells the maker to whom it belongs, and the Blademaster gives the masterpiece he has created to that and only that person. Never anything so crass as for a fee to be paid – the gift of the blade is the most precious thing that can be given to a warrior… a person who is both a soldier and philosopher in one.

The house that the warrior belongs to will bless the Blademaster with all that it has for the gift of the honor of housing so great a blade… and when the warrior dies or grows old, the sword goes back to the Master who made it and no one else.

We see now as through a glass…darkly… but then we will see face to face.

I rest in the thought that you have the opportunity to become a great blade for the Master, only you can say when you have been shaped enough and have reached the point where you feel you are finished. God will use you there, make no mistake about that. You can still be polished and made pretty and useful but the shaping will be over.

Make your own analogies – I have made mine.

No one ever said this life thing was easy. You have the opportunity to be of great value to the Master if you let him shape you. And, as the house that receives the blade is greatly honored and blessed, so too will you bless the house you come to.

I end with my favorite quote, from one of my favorite people;

Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.

It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat”.

– Teddy Roosevelt, Speech before the Hamilton Club, Chicago, April 10, 1899

The Bible assures us that we are ‘an instrument for noble purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work’ (2 Timothy 2:21). Unlike Teddy Roosevelt, however, I believe that only God can know when we are fully shaped. Do you trust him to know that? Even if the shaping might hurt in the meantime?

18As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. 19″Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will make you fishers of men.” 20At once they left their nets and followed him.

21Going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John. They were in a boat with their father Zebedee, preparing their nets. Jesus called them, 22and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.

“I will make you fishers of men.” When I was in Sunday School as a child, we used to sing a song based on these words of Jesus, complete with actions:

I will make you fishers of men,
Fishers of men, fishers of men,
I will make you fishers of men,
If you follow Me.

If you follow Me,
If you follow Me,
I will make you fishers of men,
If you follow Me.

You can imagine the kind of actions: lean back and then ‘cast’, before ‘reeling in’ the ‘fish’ and repeating all over again. That’s how fishing works – you keep tossing out the line and (if you’re lucky) you catch some fish.

Whilst often done in small groups, the angler’s craft is essentially a solitary one. You vs. the fish, your skill against their wiles, with the bait on the line (no pun). Perhaps you might ask a mate to share in the glory at the end by holding the net to finally land it. Nevertheless, it goes down as ‘your’ fish, particularly if it is a big one.

Yet this isn’t an altogether accurate representation of the image Jesus was trying to convey. In referring to his apostles as fishers of men, he was not trying to tell them that he was going to equip them with rod and reel and send them out to bring in converts. You see, fishermen of the day used nets. Consider the following story:

1One day as Jesus was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret, with the people crowding around him and listening to the word of God, 2he saw at the water’s edge two boats, left there by the fishermen, who were washing their nets. 3He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from shore. Then he sat down and taught the people from the boat.

4When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”

5Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”

6When they had done so, they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. 7So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.

- Luke 5:1-7

Jesus’ model for evangelism is one of teamwork. You may only be one of several people around the edge of the net, but unless you do your part there will be no ‘catch’. You may never have a fish you can call ‘yours’, but if you fish where Jesus tells you to and in the way he tells you (i.e. in partnership with others) then you can expect to see your nets and boats so full that you will need to bring in help!

“I don’t understand it – I treated them all the same, they all got the same shelter, the same water, the same soil. But one dies, and the others are fine.”

Such are the frustrations my wife, Katrie, faces in her role as household gardener. How do you respond to that? It makes no sense, there is no clear reason why such a thing should happen – it just does. Perhaps the poor thing just lost the will to live – I’ve certainly told myself that in the past, when anything green and under my care has died (as just about everything green and under my care has!) Fortunately, Katrie is a much better gardener than I am, being possessed of the necessary patience and care as I am not. (For the record, my gardening responsibilities are purely destructive – by which I mean cutting the grass!)

In Katrie’s angst-filled cry I hear echoes of another gardener’s bafflement:

1-2 I’ll sing a ballad to the one I love, a love ballad about his vineyard: The one I love had a vineyard, a fine, well-placed vineyard.
He hoed the soil and pulled the weeds,
and planted the very best vines.
He built a lookout, built a winepress,
a vineyard to be proud of.
He looked for a vintage yield of grapes,
but for all his pains he got junk grapes.

3-4″Now listen to what I’m telling you,
you who live in Jerusalem and Judah.
What do you think is going on
between me and my vineyard?
Can you think of anything I could have done
to my vineyard that I didn’t do?
When I expected good grapes,
why did I get bitter grapes?

- Isaiah 5:1-4 (Message)

Having hoed, planted, watered, weeded, sheltered and generally nurtured the vines, he expects to be able to enjoy the literal fruit of his labours. The passage details just how expectant he was: he plants, not just any vines, but the “very best vines”; he builds a watchtower, both a place where he can guard over his investment, but also one in which he can sit and enjoy the sight of the vines, his vines; and he builds a winepress, ready to make the finest wine from his “vintage yield of grapes.” Clearly this is a prizewinning “vineyard to be proud of,” one he no doubt can’t help but boast about to everyone he knows.

Imagine, then, his disappointment and anger, when all of the grapes that he has laboured so long over prove to be sour. Picture him hanging his head in shame amongst his neighbours, whose barely concealed sniggers reproach him at every turn. “Can you think of anything I could have done to my vineyard that I didn’t do?” he pleads.

Isaiah’s “ballad”, perhaps first sung at a harvest festival, would have called to mind amongst his listeners many of the joys and frustrations of life on the land. The audience would likely have shared in the vintner’s joy, and sympathised with his anguish, many of them having faced similar circumstances.

Isaiah’s message is not, however, about a literal vineyard:

7Do you get it? The vineyard of God-of-the-Angel-Armies
is the country of Israel.
All the men and women of Judah
are the garden he was so proud of.
He looked for a crop of justice
and saw them murdering each other.
He looked for a harvest of righteousness
and heard only the moans of victims.

- Isaiah 5:7 (Message)

“Do you get it?” It is a mark of the inventiveness of the prophets, that they use parables, stories and, as in this case, songs to deliver truth where it would otherwise not reach. Isaiah does it here through familiar and comforting images, parallels to pictures of everyday life. He drives his point home brutally, however, leaving no room for misunderstanding. God expects justice: he sees bloodshed. God expects righteousness: he hears only cries of distress. This is even worse than no fruit – instead the fruit being borne is the exact opposite of what he sought.

The heart of Isaiah’s message on this occasion, however, lies in the verses in between these two sections:

5-6″Well now, let me tell you
what I’ll do to my vineyard:
I’ll tear down its fence
and let it go to ruin.
I’ll knock down the gate
and let it be trampled.
I’ll turn it into a patch of weeds, untended, uncared for—
thistles and thorns will take over.
I’ll give orders to the clouds:
‘Don’t rain on that vineyard, ever!'”

- Isaiah 5:5-6 (Message)

God will not allow this situation to continue forever. Having had no response to his plaintive appeals regarding his own actions, the vineyard owner makes his decision: root it all all; remove the shelter; leave it to the weeds; withhold the life-bringing water. In other words, leave it to die.

Here’s how Jesus puts it:

6-7Then he told them a story: “A man had an apple tree planted in his front yard. He came to it expecting to find apples, but there weren’t any. He said to his gardener, ‘What’s going on here? For three years now I’ve come to this tree expecting apples and not one apple have I found. Chop it down! Why waste good ground with it any longer?’

8-9″The gardener said, ‘Let’s give it another year. I’ll dig around it and fertilize, and maybe it will produce next year; if it doesn’t, then chop it down.'”

- Luke 13:6-9 (Message)

We are like the vines and the apple tree. We have been given every advantage we need – we have been provided life, love, shelter, food, relationships. If, in spite of these advantages, we bear no fruit, or if we bear bad fruit, we will eventually be chopped down & pulled out. “Why waste good ground with (us) any longer?”

Right now, we are living in a period of grace, such as that granted to the apple tree. Let’s make sure that the fruit we bear is good fruit: justice, righteousness, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

Remember, it’s not enough to look like an apple-tree – to be an apple-tree, one must bear apples.

I went out on a shoto the other day, as I sometimes do on Tuesdays. This time I went down to Warumbul, a place in the Royal National Park that I was totally unaware of until I went there with Katrie and Rachel. (Rachel had been there before and showed us the way.)

So I’m down at Warumbul with my camera, trying to get a few nice shots of the pier, when an improbably extroverted seagull lands himself in the middle of my shot.

Naturally I click off a couple of frames – he might be just what I need to liven things up a bit. With a bit of luck, I might get a couple of really good ones when he takes off again, seeing as how I’m already set up for the shot and all. So long as I sit here with my finger on the shutter release, and keep my eye on him.

Must be nice being a bird, having nothing to prevent you sitting around checking out the world around you? Doing what you want to do, going where you want to go?

I wish you’d hurry up and take off, though – can’t wait all day, you know, and I’m starting to burn in this sun…

What’re you looking at?

I’m starting to get bored now, maybe I should just go. But I don’t want to admit to being out-waited by a bird. [Stubborn mode on]. Especially since I’ve invested all this time (a good 10 minutes by now, at least!) waiting for my avian subject to weary of his circumstances. No doubt as soon as I start to pack up my camera, he will fly off.

Here comes a boat, perhaps that will scare him off.

Nope, no such luck. Maybe I could throw a rock…

I kinda feel like the women Jesus describes, waiting for their master to come home. The ones with the lamps. Yawning, bleary-eyed, and yet hopeful of their lord’s return at any moment. When he eventually does come, only half of them are actually ready – the others have to go and refill their lamps, and so miss out on the master’s blessing.

Yeah? I can stand on one leg too, so what??

Paul expresses the same idea (about waiting, not about standing on one leg), but using different imagery. He compares the Christian’s life to a race. You see, in a race, it doesn’t matter how fast you go in the middle, it’s the end that counts. Paul encourages us to run the race hard to the end, and not to be discouraged in the middle.

Bet Paul never had to sit out in the hot sun waiting for a recalcitrant, chronologically challenged winged rodent.

Uh-oh…

Damn.

There’s a series of ads on TV at the moment – one with a pianist giving a recital, one with a golfer, probably a couple of others that I can’t remember or haven’t seen. The tag line runs something like “It takes more than a single recital/shot to be an expert pianist/golfer – it takes every single note/shot you’ve played.” Paul would’ve been right with those guys, I’m sure.

Here we go – at last!

OK, so perhaps I’ll have to take a few more before mustering up the “perfect shot”, but I am happy with the results

(For the record, I waited just over 45 mins altogether!)

Why not leave a comment? Perhaps you’re waiting on God for something, and you want encouragement in that. Or perhaps you can share a time when God made you wait, but it paid off in the end.

25On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

26″What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?”

27He answered: ” ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'[c]; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.'[d]”

28″You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.”

29But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

30In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. 31A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. 34He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, took him to an inn and took care of him. 35The next day he took out two silver coins[e] and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’

36″Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

37The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.”
Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.”

- Luke 10:25-37

This is arguably one of Jesus’ most famous parables. Certainly it has provided fodder for many a Sunday School lesson, and been used to prick the consciences of great and small alike.

Sadly for us, however, 2000 years have taken the edge off somewhat. Because we read in the context of 21st Century Australia, we lose much of the impact that Jesus intended when he addressed this parable to the expert in the law.

The parable starts out innocently (if somewhat unfortunately for the poor traveller of course) enough – a man travelling from Jerusalem to Jericho gets mugged. Along comes a priest, and the teacher of the law no doubt thought, “Good, he will help.” Upon hearing that he doesn’t however, he may have tried to justify this in his own mind – priests are, after all, prohibited from defiling themselves.

Next comes a Levite, surely a good and righteous man, who will help out a countryman in need… but no.

You can see how Jesus has carefully and cleverly set the scene and built expectation. Perhaps the Pharisee was even harbouring thoughts that the next passerby, who will surely help, might himself be a Pharisee. And yet, when Jesus delivers his punch-line, it is a despised Samaritan who shows the others up for their selfishness.

Josephus, the 1st Century A.D. Jewish historian records some of the background of the tension between the Jews and the Samaritans:

But now the [Samaritans]… each of them, according to their nations, which were in number five, brought their own gods into Samaria, and by worshiping them, as was the custom of their own countries, they provoked Almighty God to be angry and displeased at them, for a plague seized them by which they were destroyed; and when they found no cure for their miseries, they learned by the oracle that they ought to worship Almighty God, as the method for their deliverance. So they sent ambassadors to the king of Assyria, and desired him to send them some of those priests of the Israelites whom he had taken captive. And when he thereupon sent them, and the people were by them taught the laws and the holy worship of God, they worshiped him in a respectful manner, and the plague ceased immediately; and indeed they continue to make use of the very same customs to this very time , and are called in the Hebrew tongue Cutheans; but in the Greek Samaritans. And when they see the Jews in prosperity, they pretend that they are changed, and allied to them, and call them kinsmen, as though they were derived from Joseph, and had by that means an original alliance with them: but when they see them falling into a low condition, they say they are no way related to them, and that the Jews have no right to expect any kindness or marks of kindred from them, but they declare that they are sojourners, that come from other countries.

- Josephus, The Antiquities of the Jews IX.xiv.3 (ed. William Whiston)

So you see the Jews and the Samaritans didn’t get on terribly well. So far as most Jews (almost certainly including the expert in the law of Luke 10) were concerned, Samaritans were the proverbial ‘fair-weather sailors’. They were more than happy to profess themselves as Jews when the going was easy, but when things were going against the Jews they were far from prepared to join in those sufferings. A modern day analogy might be a New Zealander moving to Australia, and supporting the Wallabies (or any other Australian team) so long as they are winning, but then throwing their lot over to the All Blacks (or equivalent) when they are on top.

It’s hard to imagine a group in our society quite so despised as the Samaritans in 1st Century Judea, but if you’ll bear with me I’ll have a go at re-telling this parable in a modern context:

A family found themselves broken down on the side of the road. The kids were running amok, mum sitting despondantly in the gutter with her head in her hands, dad a picture of frustration, alternating between trying to get through the billowing smoke to the dysfunctional automobile, and desperately trying to flag down any and all passers-by.

Along comes a bishop on the way to church. Running through his sermon notes in his mind, he at first barely registers the family and their predicament. When he does, however, he chooses to ignore them in favour of punctuality where he is going – after all, he has people depending on him, and someone else will no doubt be along in due course.

And someone does. Following close on the bishop’s heels is the president of the local Rotary Club. He too, though, has an appointment to keep, and pointedly keeps his eyes on the road.

Then an English cricketer appears on the scene…