Simply Mary at Jesus’ Feet

Mary-Jesus-feet

We see Mary three times in the gospels, and each time she is in the same posture — “at Jesus’ feet.” When we have our first glimpse within the Bethany home, we find Martha in her characteristic attitude– working and serving; and Mary we see sitting at the Master’s feet, sitting eagerly and listening to His words.

Our second view of Mary is when Jesus came back to Bethany after the death of Lazarus, and the sisters went out to meet Him. Again, we see her at the feet of Christ. But this time in deep sorrow, seeking comfort. And then we observe her a third time. She has come to anoint the feet of Jesus. We find her again, at Jesus’ feet, and now she is honoring her Lord.

It is her natural posture. I believe that she feels entirely comfortable in this place.  I have personally seen sparrows’ nest on a sheer cliff hundreds of feet straight up, without any apprehension at all. I have been astonished at their daring and simple confidence.  And Mary has this spunk.  She has that certain easy and confident boldness.

Martha, the oldest, obviously has the theology.  We see her taking issue with Jesus, she is questioning, and confronting.  But with Mary it seems, there is a quiet contentment and a rest.  An open readiness to receive. We don’t see that too much, but Mary was a “learner.”  She had become learned in the grace of trusting simply.

She was centered on her Master, He was the focus of her attention.  We dare not minimize this, or try to focus on something less “holy.” This is not something we can easily duplicate, because it proceeds out of a heart that is absorbed in love.  It may appear to be unseemly, and we scratch our head with nervous skepticism.  But it seems whenever Mary comes into the presence of Jesus, she works her way to the front– so she can sit with Jesus. (Interestingly, the Orthodox Church regard Mary to be the first real disciple.)

We have so much to learn from Mary.  Our Christian life can be very shallow and seem rather anemic.  We live in a culture that is racked in intellectualism and pride.  When we engage it we may end up with a bit of haughtiness and a lot of selfishness to deal with.  Mary can be our compass, and our example as we crash through these issues into authentic discipleship.  She really does deserve to be esteemed, and recognized for inspiring us to be with Jesus.

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Salt That is Not Quite Salt

–Matthew 5:13, NIV

In the Middle-East, salt has a real impurity problem.  Comparing it to what you have on your table would be foolish.  There is simply no comparison.  The idea of salt degrading to non-salt was expected.  It just didn’t measure up.  Jesus in declaring that His disciples were “salt”, was taking a risk.  Could His followers remain distinctive in a virtual flood of antagonistic hostility?

Salt has a challenging destiny.  It must remain distinct while preserving everything around it.  That is not easily done.  Salt has an inherent savor that makes it very distinctive.  As a Christian there exists a distinction and a uniqueness that differentiates one from the world about him.  I have become different because He has made me distinct.  We dare not think that we are believers simply because we are exceptional.

Jesus warns that we can dilute ourselves into a state of self-imposed obsolescence.  We simply compromise ourselves to the point of losing any distinctiveness.  We just become a non-entity, by choice.  We basically zero ourselves out and allow the World to roll over us, all without a squeak. In this case, compromise is disguised as flexibility.  We betray our Lord with a soothed and bandaged conscience.

Jesus stated that saltless salt would become a non-factor, an anachronism of devastating loss.  It would no longer be able to ally itself as an agent of change, but be as common and as ubiquitous as common dirt.  Lo, how the mighty have fallen! To be regarded as common dirt.

Warned of this outcome, we find ourselves in the unique position of needing to be authentic.  Authenticity however, directs us down the path of irrevocability.  We simply find ourselves in a corner, and we have to come to a decision.  Will it be faithfulness to Christ or compromise to soothe our conscience?  Trust me, it is easy to compromise.

Jesus boldly declares that His real followers will come through.  They will believe in Him to the point-of-death.  We have been given the blessing of both time and space to make our decision.  We, ourselves have been caught in the valley of decision.  Can we be able to make a choice that becomes a real spiritual difference?

PLEASE, do not continue to compromise.  Do not vacillate and attempt to call it enlightenment and adaptability.  You are salt, and you will be different.  Let the world go on without you.  You don’t belong anyway.

A Believer in Pain

by Joni Eareckson Tada

My chronic pain makes my quadriplegia feel like a walk in the park.

People often ask how I manage my pain. Well, when its fangs sink deep into my hips and back, that’s my signal. I begin deep breathing, slow and steady. And when fiery pain threatens to overtake me—just as the flames threatened to consume Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in that fiery furnace found in the book of Daniel—I have a conversation with it.

I don’t say, “I can’t stand this; it’s killing me,” because words like that are fraught with anxiety. Fear only makes things worse. Instead, I calmly ask Jesus to meet me in my pain, to not let it crush me. And the Son of God never fails to meet me, just as he met those three Hebrews in that hot furnace of fire.

And what does Jesus say to me in that agonizing place of pain?

He comforts me with his own words. He will say something like, “Joni, my Spirit inspired 2 Corinthians 4:8 for a good reason. For although you are ‘hard pressed on every side,’ you will not be crushed.”

Oh, what a promise! Pain may tighten its vice grip, but it cannot crush me. As I cling to God’s promises, my pain pushes me further into Jesus’s heart. There is nothing sweeter than finding my Savior in the middle of my hellish circumstances. It helps deflect the pain and helps me to suffer well. Jesus helps me be in that unhappy place well.

All the years I’ve lived in my wheelchair, I never got delivered from pain. But I met my Deliverer in it. I didn’t get healed, but I found intimate fellowship with the Healer.

As you courageously look at the stern countenance of pain and enter unafraid into its recesses, you will defang it of its terror. You’ll see that the Lord is in your pain, having transfigured it to become a place of union with him. Jesus conquered the insidious ways of pain and because of that, he is your best prescription for pain—whether it’s in your hip, your head, or your heart.

And remember, there is a glorious day coming when it says, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Revelation 21:4). Until then, when pain encroaches, start deep breathing and cling to a Bible promise. There are thousands to hold onto.

Perhaps my favorite is this one uttered by almighty God to you and me, promising, “I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you” (Isaiah 46:4b).

And he will. He promised.

Joni Eareckson Tada

When God Doesn’t Heal You

Mike Mason

God heals. Of that I have no doubt. We have many promises and see so much actual healing in Scripture. Jesus’ ministry would connect with hundreds of people who would be physically touched. The Lord would pass the baton on to His Church. We’re called to “lay hands on the sick,” (James 5:14-15).

But not everyone who is sick will receive physical healing. Even those who were active in ministry knew sickness.

In the second episode of season 3 of “The Chosen,” Little James, who we’ve seen walks with a limp, comes to Jesus after He commissions the Apostles. He tells him he finds it hard to believe that he will be healing people, given that Jesus hasn’t healed him.

“Do you want to be healed?” asks Jesus.

“Yes, of course,” James says, “if that’s possible. Why haven’t you?” he asks Jesus—again, a question some of us would’ve asked.

“Because I trust you,” Jesus says. “Little James. Precious Little James. I need you to listen to me very carefully, because what I am going to say defines your whole life to this point and will define the rest of your life. Do you understand?”

Jesus tells James that he will heal many people, and they will have a good story to tell.

“To know how to proclaim that you still praise God in spite of this—to know how to focus on all that matters, so much more than the body—to show people that you can be patient with your suffering here on Earth, because you know you’ll spend eternity with no suffering—not everyone can understand that. How many people do you think the Father and I trust this with? Not many.”

“But the others,” James says, “they are so much more … stronger, better at this.”

“James, I love you,” Jesus says, “but I don’t want to hear that ever again.”

“I know how easy it is to say the Psalm of David, that I am beautifully and wonderfully made, but it doesn’t make this any easier,” says James, begins to weep. “It doesn’t make me feel like any less of a burden.”

“When you pass from this earth,” Jesus says to James, “and you meet your Father in Heaven, where Isaiah promises you will leap like a deer, your reward will be great. So hold on a little longer. And when you discover yourself finding true strength because of your weakness, when you do great things in my Name in spite of this, the impact will last for generations. Do you understand?”

James cries, and says, “Yes. Thank you, Master.”

I believe that there are two truths that every Christian can count on. These are solid, and completely trustworthy. They are forever fixed and will never change.

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4

     John Henry Newman