Dumb Questions – Day 22 of Lent

Reading: Luke 18:18-25

When I was in college I majored in history and spent two
summers guiding at Gettysburg National Military Park, site of the famous Civil
War battle. During those two summers I heard some very interesting questions
coming from tourists who clearly hadn’t studied up on their history.

 Usually these questions were asked by men in straw hats
(always look out for them) and there were a couple of standard ones that came
up every year. Every so often someone would ask me stuff like, “Did they just leave
all the cannons here after the battle?” Since all the cannons were lined up
around the park you could see how they might think that. But then there was
this one: “Did they hide behind the monuments when they fought?” Um, no…though
it would have been easier for them to know where to stand!

 But my all-time favorite was this actual question asked by
an actual American: “Why were so many of these battles fought on National Park
Service land?”

 And some people say there's no such thing as a dumb question…

 When I read through the Bible I see that people have asked
interesting questions throughout human history—questions with even bigger
implications than what unit stood where in a particular battle long ago. And
one of the biggest questions has to do with where life is headed—what do we
have to do to experience eternal life?

 A man comes to Jesus with this question—we often call him
the “rich young ruler” but there’s no designation like that in Matthew. It
could be anyone. It could be one of us. “Teacher, what good deed must I do to
inherit eternal life?” We learn a bit later that he’s a wealthy man who seems
to have it all. Now he wants some eternal assurance as well—covering all his
bases.

 Jesus responds by telling him that keeping the commandments
will help him to “enter life.” No problem, thinks the man, I’ve been a good boy
my whole life—I’ve not killed anyone or slept around or stolen anything from
anyone. I’ve never lied (well, not much anyway). I’ve respected my parents and
I’ve done my best to love my neighbor as myself. Yes sir, I’m a pretty good
guy. I probably deserve a shot at some eternal bliss.

 You know, one of the things I learned when I was guiding was
that people often ask questions that are really statements. They want to show
how much they know. In nearly every tour for two summers there was always
someone who wanted to play “stump the guide”—some Civil War buff who read a
book once and now wants to prove how much he knows to the rest of the crowd.
Their questions usually began with something like, “Isn’t it true that…” or
“Well, in my research…” I had to learn to listen patiently and then tactfully
offer the correct response.

 You see Jesus doing that here with this man. He desperately
wants to justify himself—to prove that he is deserving of a place in God’s
Kingdom. Jesus’ correction, however, is anything but subtle or even tactful.

 “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and
give the money to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven. Then, come and
follow me.”

 This wasn’t the answer he was looking for. The man was
expecting Jesus to bless his life and lifestyle without any changes. He wanted
his story, his worldview, his question to be validated. But what Jesus tells
him is that if he wants to truly experience eternal life, if he truly wants to
engage the kind of life that Jesus is offering, it will require him to
change—to give up those things that are a barrier between him and God, to be
validated not by what he has gained but by what he has given away. It’s ok to be
good, Jesus seems to be saying, but you need something greater—you need a
transforming experience of grace.

John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, often talked about the concept of
prevenient grace—that God is seeking us out, wanting a relationship with us.
But while prevenient grace may bring us closer to God, may make us more
predisposed to want to obey God, it’s not enough to make us into disciples. In
prevenient grace we might see ourselves like the man in this story does—as
basically good people who are not as bad as everyone else out there.

 Scripture clearly tells us, however, that there aren’t degrees of
good or bad out there. The bottom line is that no matter how good we think we
might be, we’re never as good as God. Even Jesus tells the young man that only
God is ultimately good, righteous, holy. By contrast, we are sinners. The word
for sin in the Greek is hamartia—a word borrowed from archery that literally
means “to miss the mark.” No matter how well we think we’ve lived, we are still
off the target of the image of God we were created to be from the beginning. As
Paul would write to the Romans, “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory
of God” (3:23).

 The rich man doesn’t recognize his spiritual poverty and
that’s the problem with his question. He thinks he’s coming before Jesus with a
solid resume—but Jesus isn’t interested in his resume—only in his faith: a
faith lived out in a transformed life.

 Justifying grace is the term we use to describe what we need
in order to enter into a transforming relationship with God. In justifying
grace, we accept the offer of grace that God has been extending all along. We
recognize that we are sinners, that our spiritual resumes are not that
impressive, that we cannot save ourselves from the cycle of sin and
self-interest that constantly swirls around us. We come to a point when we
realize that we are in need of a Savior because we need saving.

 Some would characterize this as saying, “Yes” to God’s offer
of grace. I would borrow a term from the battlefield and say that it’s more
about surrender—we come to a point when we can no longer fight against our
sinful nature and we decide to finally give up and put ourselves in God’s
hands. One of the most ancient prayers in Christian faith—called The Jesus
Prayer (taken from Luke 18:35-43)—“Lord Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me,
a sinner!” These are the words shouted by a blind beggar—interesting that Luke
puts this story right after the story of the rich young man. The blind man
ironically sees his spiritual poverty and cries out in need while the rich man
is blind to his own situation. There’s a reason Luke put these two stories so
close together!

 Lord Jesus, have mercy on me, a sinner. That’s a prayer of
surrender. But surrender here doesn’t have a negative connotation like it does
on the battlefield. When it comes to God, surrender leads to victory!

 God responds to our surrender with justifying grace—the
grace that transforms us. In justification, we experience the forgiveness of
our sins—a second chance, a new life, a rebooting of our crashed spiritual hard
drives, if you will.

Eternal life isn't simply something we look forward to in the future, but it is rather a present reality–abundant, fruitful, resurrection life. We experience God's dream for our future in the present when we surrender our lives to him.

What does your spiritual resume say about you? Have you asked God to forgive you, make you whole, give you new life? 

Those are smart questions, important questions, for Lent and for life.

PRAYER: Lord God, I surrender myself to you today. May I see a vision of your future and my place in it, and may your forgiving, justifying grace give me a new start on the journey. Amen.