God’s Questions: On Choice
The last two weeks we looked at two questions God asked among the hundreds posed in the Bible. And in each we discovered the point was for revelation rather than God needing information.
Adam and Eve got exposed to their leaving home and choosing independence when God asked Where are you? to the couple as they hid in shame from the One who created them. From then through today, God asks the same question to every person when we stray from home. He is the Seeker, the Hound of Heaven pursuing his beloved. That question reveals distance and invites return.
Then there was Jesus’ interaction with the lame man who had hoped for change and healing for 38 years as he sat by a pool of water in hopes for a miracle. His illness had become his identity and it proved to be false, but it was who he saw himself as. Tangled like a wind-blown mobile, he was caught until Jesus asked him Do you want to get well?
This odd question cut across his excuses and opened a way for him to experience a new identity in the Healer as he acted on the call to get up. The same question comes to every one of us when we are stuck in crippled mental loops hoping things will change on their own. Answering this is the first step out and away from whatever pool where we wait.
This week takes us to a vignette with Jesus and his crew midway in his ministry years. They had traveled back north to Caesarea Philippi and had much activity amid crowds of people. Both Matthew and Luke relate this brief back and forth. Here’s how Luke tells it.
One day Jesus left the crowds to pray alone. Only his disciples were with him, and he asked them, “Who do people say I am?”
“Well,” they replied, “some say John the Baptist, some say Elijah, and others say you are one of the other ancient prophets risen from the dead.”
Then he asked them, “But who do you say I am?”
Peter replied, “You are the Messiah sent from God!”
Bear with me, but if I squint and tilt my head just so, this is how I imagine the scene. It’s the end of a full day and Jesus sneaks off alone to pray and recharge. Returning to the close crew of men and women followers, he joins them around the fire and listens in as they discuss what they saw and who they met and the things they learned watching Jesus do his thing.
They are relaxed and laughter is ever-present as the Sons of Thunder tease each other about something they did that day. Food has been shared and folks are relaxed. Jesus, leaning back on one of the packs, asks, “Who do people say I am?”
And just like today, opinions about just who this amazing man is are all over the yard.
Then Jesus turns the question toward his friends and Peter, as usual, is first to speak up with a declaration that leads to a path. You see, the simple phrase Who do you say I am? reveals for any of us just how much sway this Jesus actually carries in life.
The passage continues with Jesus letting the crew in on what is to come and the price they will pay if they continue to relentlessly follow this man.
Jesus warned his disciples not to tell anyone who he was. “The Son of Man must suffer many terrible things,” he said. “He will be rejected by the elders, the leading priests, and the teachers of religious law. He will be killed, but on the third day he will be raised from the dead.”
Then he said to the crowd, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross daily, and follow me. If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it.
Pretty staggering outflow from just a simple question. To take up your cross daily and follow me talks about the hundreds of choices we make every day.
Choosing kindness rather than coldness
peace and not retaliation
viewing others as image-bearers and treating them accordingly
serving without strings
opting for running people up and not down.
For many in any era, Jesus functions as their mascot or lucky charm. He goes as far into the weeds of life as a cross necklace or labeled T-shirt will carry. But answering like Peter, and don’t forget how badly he will soon fail, is an intentional compass heading. Inevitable stumbles, even intentional ones, will not alter the overall course.
So, Who do you say I am? becomes a whisper as we approach each branch in our road all day long. Choosing to follow becomes a matter of surrender, practiced over and over again. Winning the battle of the choice-of-the-moment calls for us to keep front and center both who we are and whose we are.
Paul, in his letters to regular Janes and Joes, routinely calls for believers to choose wisely when the way branches and so live godly lives. Having been bought with a price, the sacrifice of Jesus, our response (which is all for our benefit) is to invite Jesus into every conversation, video, online search, purchase, and all the rest.
Trust me, you will fail, just like all of us do. But remember, you are an apprentice, a learner, a child and can trust our Master, our Teacher, our Father to never give up on his project in you.
Today, then dear friend, take some time to ponder Jesus’ question.
Who do you say I am?
It calls for belief, commitment, and wise choices all along your way. Then test drive for the rest of today as you come upon all of the choices in your path.
Meusik for the moment
…and phunnies…shur nuf
Taking great pains to be specific, Ken, the grizzled old veteran teacher explained to three of his students that he wanted them to clean a car that was parked outside.
He gave them two extension cords, the vacuum cleaner, a bucket, rags and the car keys. He mentioned that the car was one to be used in his class.
Later he went out and discovered them sitting in the car, feet up on the
dashboard, listening to the stereo. "Why aren't you vacuuming the car?" he
asked.
"Because the extension cord wouldn't reach," was the reply.
Exasperated, the teacher stated, "That's why I gave you two."
"We tried the other one," a student said, "but it wouldn't reach either."
******************
While waiting for my first appointment in the reception room of a new dentist, I noticed his certificate, which bore his full name.
Suddenly, I remembered that a tall, handsome boy with the same name had been in my high school class almost 50 years ago.
Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was too old to have been my classmate.
After he had examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended the local high school.
"Yes," he replied.
"When did you graduate?" I asked.
He answered, "In 1953."
"Why, you were in my class!" I exclaimed.
He looked at me closely and then asked, "What did you teach?"