The Servant Savior

      All of the disciple's conversation stopped when they saw Jesus get up from the table and grab a basin and a towel. As Jesus began washing their feet, their minds raced. "How can this man, the Son of God, be lowering Himself to wash our stinky, dirty feet?" They were all thinking it, but only Peter had the guts, or lack of self-control, to say it, "You will never wash my feet!" Jesus replied, "You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand." (John 13: 1-7)

      I think a lot of us would be right there with Peter. The image of Jesus on His knees washing our feet is not how we usually picture Him. We see Him in sparkling white robes riding a white horse or high up on His throne; not on a dusty floor washing dirty feet.

      Yes, Jesus was there at the creation. Yes, He is the all-powerful Son of God, but I think this is the best picture of Jesus. For He came, not to be the king high on his throne, but to meet people at the point of their need. If Jesus came to serve His people, how much more should we? We should be ready with our towel and basin to wash our brother's feet when they come in from a long journey. Service should be something we do as a daily thing, not as a special event.

When God Says, “No.”

      “Man plans, and God laughs.” That is an old Yiddish proverb, and apparently a Public Enemy album. Our speaker for high school chapel today challenged the young people to consider what they will do when they face setbacks and that got me thinking back to when I was their age. If you had asked 17 year old me where I saw myself in 35 years, here is what I probably would have answered.

I would be winding down my career as an electrical engineer. I would be married and probable have a couple of kids. I would own a nice house and probably have some acreage to go with it. Of course I would have the car to go with the house. All in all, I would be living the American dream. If you had listened closely while I was answering you, you would probably heard faint laughter in the background as God chuckled at my plans.

      Here I am, 35 years later. I am in my 24^th year of teaching, not engineering. I am still single. I have no children. I rent a 900 square foot townhome with a yard I can cut with a weedeater in 15 minutes. I drive a 1992 F150 with over 250,000 miles on it. Not exactly the American dream.

I had my life all planned out and it sounded great to me. God, however, said, “No.” God told me no and I am so thankful for that. God directed me to education and speaking life into the next generations. Thanks to my job, I have hundreds of people I consider my children. I have been able to do things that I never would have done if my plans had come to fruition. Do I wish my plans had come to pass? Some of them, yes. I would love to have a wife and children. I would like to have a car that isn’t old enough to drink. I would like to own my own house. I still pray for some of those things daily, but I have come to understand that when God says, “No.” it is for a good reason.

      How do you react when God tells you know? Do you complain and still try to make it happen, or do you accept that God knows better than you what is best for you? As the Psalmist said, “Be still and know that I am God.” "No." isn’t the end of the story, it is just the beginning of the next chapter.

A TALE OF TWO SEAS

      First a quick geography lesson. The Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea are separated by about 65 miles. They both share a similar climate and they are both fed by the Jordan River. It is here the similarities stop though. The Sea of Galilee is full of life; fishing has been a major industry on it for centuries. It is also one of the main water sources for the surrounding areas. The Dead Sea is, well, dead. It does not support life beyond some very hardy brine shrimp and some plants. It is the saltiest body of water on the planet. How can two lakes fed by the same source of water be so vastly different? Why does one teem with life while the other one is almost literally dead?

      I recently heard our pastor use this quote in one of her sermons. “The Gospel comes to us on the way to someone else.” (After some hunting, I found it attributed to Erwin McManus.) I think too often we as Christians think we are the end of the line for the Gospel. We hear the Word of God and apply it to our life where we think it needs to be applied and then we are done with it. We pat ourselves on the back for recognizing our shortcomings and doing something about it and getting back on the path God has laid out for us. We miss the point when we do this. Yes, we should apply the Word of God to our lives every day, but that shouldn’t be where it stops. We are charged with passing the Gospel on to others, it isn’t supposed to stop with us.

      So why the geography lesson first? You see, the difference between the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea isn’t what goes into them, they are both fed by the same Jordan River. The difference is what goes out. The Jordan River flows into the Sea of Galilee at its northern end and then continues out at the southern end. The Dead Sea, however, has no outflow and that is what causes the difference. With no outflow the water stagnates and evaporates and becomes the salty water incapable of sustaining life. The same water supplies the two lakes, yet one teems with life and the other one is dead simply because the water doesn’t flow out of it. If we don’t let the Gospel continue on its way through us to others it will stagnate in us and we will find ourselves a spiritual Dead Sea, fed by a life-giving river but dead because we did nothing with it and let it evaporate. As Jesus told His disciples in Matthew 28:19, “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (NIV)