The Wrongness of Pharisaism (Luke 11-12)

I always hate being confronted with my Pharisaism, but God is always good, and He never leaves me in the particular sin I’m bent towards. Just when I think I (you heard that emphasis on “I,” right?) have it all figured out (and often consequently that no one else does), He lets me read a particular passage at just the right time or hear a piece of a random sermon or a blurb of something that penetrates like the barb of a really sharp arrow. He places me in situations that confront my preconceived notions that my way is the best or only way and shakes my whole being loose from the constraints of this world in which I live and often walk blindly about in. This rod of discipline is necessary for me and it is always welcome in retrospect even when the need for it is not recognized in advance.

Last night was one of those nights. I was tired after a weekend spent prepping for homecoming at our own church and a day spent serving others and thought I was just going (no, let me be truthful and say “condescending” to go) to a baptism at a “young” church that played loud music in a dark building full of fog and light and college kids. A place that hypes up and feeds egos and makes it all about the show itself instead of Jesus. I was wrong. I heard 30 people’s salvation stories, people younger than ten and older than 35, running the whole age gamut between. A few of these I love dearly, but most I have never met. It didn’t matter. I cried ugly tears as each one shared how God had saved him/her, each sharing the brokenness and offering hope for restoration of the soul and a new way to walk. I saw a pastor encourage these like a coach would encourage the players in the most intense moments of a game, speaking words of encouragement into their souls before dunking them under the water that represents the newness of life that can only be found when Christ washes away the sin and restores to life. I saw a small “arena” full of people yell and pump fists and raise hands in praise to the God whom these 30 proclaimed an allegiance to last night. [Side note: I have always wondered that we Americans (and many other nations who gather in support of their own elite sports) can gather by the hundreds of thousands and yell and scream in support of the relatively few people on the field, paying beaucoup of money, all in, leaving with only our own support of those people that will never even know or care who we are, yet we go to church and quietly fold our hands and be terribly indifferent and uninvolved and leave unaffected after offering the "praise of men" to this Jesus who offers us salvation and eternal life.]

Don’t get me wrong. The loud music, bright lights, fog, technologically-involved worship service with cameras in everyone's faces isn’t everyone’s preference, nor is it required. That’s not what this post is about. This post is a declaration that we should encourage one another loudly and worship our God solely, boldly, and above all else. People I don’t know and will likely never see again encouraged my soul last night—to keep praying for my son who has wandered away from any desire to pursue God even from any belief; to keep praying for my other two children who struggle as all do in this life to keep walking the narrow path of Christianity, just as I struggle; to remember the newness of eternal life and keep the flame stoked high; to not get caught up in any particular way of worship that becomes a god in itself; to not get puffed up thinking I already know everything and lose the meaning of the Scriptures I teach to others in discipleship; to not lose the desire to encourage the young in faith to trust God by leading a life that demonstrates my total trust and dependence solely on Him; and so much more—and I am grateful that God let me have that 2 1/2-hour slice of encouragement to trust Him more. I needed it, and I didn't even realize I was starving for it.

As I sat down to read this morning from the day's passages from Luke 11-12, I find so much relevant. God’s Word always speaks to us whatever place we find ourselves on this sojourn. My convictions today follow:

—I need to remember to “be careful lest the light in [me] be darkness”; rather I need a “whole body full of light, having no part dark . . . wholly bright, as when a lamp with its rays” gives light (11:35-36, ESV). 

—I need to remember to “beware the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy (12:1).

—I need to remember to “fear Him alone,” acknowledging Him “before men” (12:8).

—I need to “take care, and be on [my] guard against all covetousness” (12:15), even when that is simply wanting the same quantity of new life in Christ and professions for my own husband’s small flock (and some children, LORD?). I am to work and shine and grow where He has placed me for His glory. He is the one doing the work, not us. He is the one placing in the body as He desires, not us. 

—I need to remember to “seek HIs kingdom” constantly instead of living in the fear that those I love might fall short of it (12:31). It is the “Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom,” and that’s where my heart and treasure need to dwell. (How is He even my Father and me His child, much less that I would be freely given, inherit, a kingdom? I am no one!)

—I need to “stay dressed for action and keep [my] lamps burning and be like men who are waiting for their master to come home from the wedding feast” (12:35-36). I need to remember to have the expectation He will soon come for me, and I am to wait with eager expectation instead of going through motions day after day.

—I need to be a “wise manager” of what He has given me instead of (circle back to bullet 4 above) coveting what I have not been given. I can only manage what is there, and He has given me enough of Himself that I don’t lack anything, and I have an abundance I don’t always gratefully remember.

So this is my confession today: Jesus is everything. He is enough. He is good to remind me and call me out of the darkness of this world when the flame threatens to be snuffed out without me realizing it has grown dark. 

Thank you, LORD, for the reminders and the winds of Your Spirit that indwells and fans the flame to keep it alive.