Luke 10:38-42

Like disciples in a storm-tossed boat, we question God’s care when things are physically difficult and threatening (see previous blog post), but, perhaps even more regularly, we find ourselves asking that question in everyday circumstances not directly connected to danger.  Thankfully, we’re given another story that hits home. 

This time, when a follower of Jesus asks him, don’t you care?, it isn’t because they’re about to drown in the sea.  On the contrary, it’s a domestic setting in a woman’s home, likely rich with the aroma of freshly-baked bread and expertly-pressed wine. It’s a gathering of friends, robust with conversation, centered around Jesus’ teaching. 

It’s not difficult to imagine the scene if you’ve ever hosted a group of people, and it’s not hard to put yourself in Martha’s sandals if you had siblings growing up, if you’re raising kids, or if your workload has ever seemed unfair. Additionally, in a place where gender roles in society strictly defined social norms, Martha could be justifiably critical of Mary’s actions.

Luke clearly contrasts the two sisters: Mary sat at Jesus’ feet to listen to His teaching; Martha was distracted with much serving. Vine's Expository Dictionary explains that the word distracted means “to be driven about mentally”.  Her preparations, planning, inviting, serving, hosting - on top of whatever normal routines she had - created a mental storm that contrasted with Mary’s sitting at Jesus’ feet. Martha’s “much serving” took priority over much sitting in His presence. 

Jesus described Martha with two words when she asked if He cared. The NIV translates them as worried and upset; the ESV uses anxious and troubled. The first descriptor is common among Jesus’ teachings, but the second word is used only here in the New Testament. Thayer’s Greek Lexicon describes it as “troubled in mind, disturbed, disquieted.” More mental storm.

Martha was engulfed in the wave of what she thought was necessary to have Jesus in her presence. But Jesus wanted her to sit in His presence. He wasn’t looking for a gourmet meal or a white-gloved house; in fact, He commended Mary for choosing for herself the biggest slice of the pie, the best part of the meal - His presence - which He would not take from her by sending her to the kitchen.

He cares more that you’re sitting in His presence than if you’re serving up your house specialty on a silver platter. What part of your serving is a self-inflicted mental storm, as if that’s what it takes to be with Jesus?

Mark 4:35-41

“Don’t you care?” is a question we ask when someone could do something but doesn’t. The question implies that they noticed an obvious problem - and perhaps they even observed others’ futile efforts to solve it - but they opted out of helping.  When that happens, it shifts the focus off of the initial issue and raises doubts about the heart of the one doing nothing. We conclude that if they cared, they would step in; therefore, they must not care.

The first time Jesus’ followers asked this question of Him, was during a storm. After a long day of teaching in parables, Jesus got into a boat with his disciples to cross to the other side of the sea. He fell asleep on the way.  When the wind and waves threatened to sink the boat, the disciples frantically woke the Son of God, who had succumbed to sheer exhaustion. I imagine them soaked and screaming, don’t you care that we are perishing? 

Threats on our well-being, natural disasters, uncontrollable forces, freak accidents - God, are you sleeping? How can you do nothing about this? At least grab a bucket and tie down the sail!  Don’t you care that we are perishing?

Wasn’t Jesus’ care the very reason he was lying there in their creaking, weathered boat in the first place? Because they were perishing. So He came that whoever would believe in Him, would not perish. 

When I question the heart of God with, Don’t you care?, I'm assuming that He must be fickle like His prophet, Jonah - uncaring and asleep on the job in the middle of a storm.  God had sent Jonah because God pitied a perishing city; God sent Jesus because He so loved the perishing world. Jonah didn’t care to bring God’s message of mercy to an enemy that might receive it; Jesus had just spent the day preaching it to a people who would reject it. Jonah fled from God’s presence; Jesus was God, present. The storm was punishment for Jonah’s disobedience; the storm would be proof of Jesus’ identity. The storm calmed when Jonah was swallowed by it; the storm calmed when Jesus spoke to it. 

Someone who cares more than Jonah has come.

“...casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7

Hebrews 11:7-40

It seems unfair to summarize someone’s life in a paragraph or to depict them as a character in flannelgraph, but so goes the fame of faith. It was never about them. 

Verse 7. Noah hadn’t ever experienced the type of weather or severe judgment that God told him was ahead, but he didn’t need to have a perfect idea of what was coming before diligently spending decades of his life in preparation. God gave him enough information to commit to the task in front of him. 

I so often want to calculate every possible outcome, understand all that will be required, or draw from at least a partial experience of something before putting in effort toward obedience. But to have faith like Noah, I would begin right now with what I know, tools I have, and burdens I carry. 

Faith prepares in the present for an unclear future.

Verses 8-16. Abraham picked up and left the place he called home, not sure where he’d end up, yet certain that God had called. Even after he and his family arrived in the Promised Land, they lived like gypsies, ready to move when necessary, open-handed on their idea of home. They didn’t look back as if returning to where they came from would be the solution to the longing in their hearts. 

Moving is unnatural for me - as common as it has become in my own story - and I can only release my grip on staying when I’m convinced that home is still up ahead.  

Faith redefines home to be at home on the journey toward it. 

Verses 11-22; 29-40.  Pregnancy in old age, resurrection from death, counter-cultural blessings, freedom from slavery, parting of the waters, destruction of city walls…all of these were supernatural human experiences, only resulting from promises God made. But they were just glimpses into what God had promised in Jesus and what He promises is still ahead for all of His followers.

Atypical could be a one-word summary of God’s promises; otherwise we might take credit, and otherwise, there would be no need for faith. When I find myself resisting God because “the world just doesn’t work this way”, it’s an indicator I’m probably not living by faith.  

Faith leans into the strength of God’s promises more than the limits of normalcy. 

Verses 23-28. Moses’ parents could have faced Pharaoh’s retaliation for concealing Moses’ birth, because they had been commanded to kill him. But they acted consistent with who they were as the people of God rather than bowing to a human decree.  Later, Moses himself denied his royal Egyptian rights and privileges and instead chose to follow the ways of his real King.

Many times, my walk of faith has led to a split in the road, and I haven’t always chosen well like Moses and his parents.  I’ve often picked the path of my own comfort over the path of my conviction as a follower of Jesus, and it’s fear that rules when I do.  

Faith defies fear by acting on conviction instead of comfort.  

I don’t play basketball any better after visiting the hall of fame, because the players all had something I do not, no matter how hard I practice. But we’re reminded in Hebrews 11, that we are the ones who have something these people did not have:

We know the end of the story of faith. 

We relate to the Savior of our faith. 

We walk in His Spirit who empowers our faith. 

Unlike any hall of fame, this record serves to equip the ones who walk its halls to keep going forward by faith.

Hebrews 11:1-6

A couple years ago, our family visited the Basketball Hall of Fame. On display are pictures documenting the development of the game, giant Nike’s that made mine look like toddlers’ shoes, and players’ handprints that my head could fit into. These people deserve their fame, and everything about them that has been preserved for us makes that point.

Hebrews 11 invites us to linger like we’re staring at snapshots documenting ancient faith, following giant footprints of those who’ve gone before us, and noticing the massive handprint of the One who held them all the way. 

If we rolled out the red carpet, the subjects of this chapter would probably look over their shoulders wondering who was being honored. Fame wasn’t the path they walked; faith was. Hebrews 11 describes the effect that faith had in their lives, but first, it reaches back in time to start the discussion on faith with the beginning of the world, before any human made their mark.

Verses 1-3. Faith agrees that when God spoke, atoms arranged, molecules bonded, chemicals reacted, and matter came into being. Life formed, because God said it should. Life continues because He upholds it by the Word of His power. What I see with my eyes was created because God opened His mouth. 

Faith accepts that life itself depends on the Word of God. 

Verses 4-6. Life is full of endings, often unexpected ones, as seen in the first two examples highlighted in this chapter. These men didn’t know their days would be cut short: one is murdered, taken at the hand of his angry brother; the other is taken by the hand of God and avoided experiencing death. Their sudden departures from life only amplify their legacy of faith. 

Unlike his brother, Abel drew near to God in faith. This pleased God but infuriated his brother enough to kill Abel for it. All over the world today, martyrs’ blood declares their faith long after they’re gone. 

Unlike his ancestors, whose sin caused them to hide from God as God walked through the garden, Enoch walked with God.  He stood in contrast to the sin of his people, prophesying about the Lord’s coming judgment on it. In response to his close relationship with God, God essentially “raptured” him from Earth.  His was a faith that was eager to be in God’s presence.

Both Abel and Enoch believed God, unlike many of their family, ancestors, or contemporaries, and this kind of faith still speaks.  They lived before the Flood, preceded Abraham, and lived generations prior to the Exodus, but the limited revelation from God that they had by their lifetime was enough to change the way they lived. And I complain that God hasn’t made things clear enough for me to step out in faith! 

Sometimes the step of faith He’s calling us to brings an end to something. Most endings we face regularly aren’t as drastic as loss of life - they’re just the close of a season of life.  Some are predictable, but others are not. I find that it’s hardest on my faith when it seems that the song of a particular season is only half-sung when change comes, or like I’m stopping mid-stride to pivot with God’s plan. How could God use efforts that seem so “unfinished”? Abel and Enoch teach me that when things end before the time I had imagined:

Faith to the end speaks loudly in an unexpected end.  

We’ll keep moving down the Hall of Faith, stopping to read the plaques and signs along the way.

For now, we’re left to ponder these questions from verses 1-7:

Do I believe the Word like my life depends on it?

If my life or a particular season of life ended suddenly tomorrow, would there be evidence from today that I lived by faith?

Trials & Testing

Throughout life, it seems that the trials of my faith prove just how little of it I have. I could assume the nickname for myself that Jesus compassionately created for His disciples, “Little-faith ones”. The trying circumstances in which Jesus used this unique term are recorded in Matthew’s Gospel, and they highlight reactions to life that come much more naturally - at least to me - than faith does.

Anxiety: “Will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious…” Matthew 6:30-31. 

Draw me into dependence on You as my Father. You’re enough for today.

Fear: “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” Matthew 8:26.  

Calm me as my Creator, present with me in the rocking boat.

Doubt: “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” Matthew 14:31. 

Reassure me as my Rescuer with your reliable Word and steady hand.

Inattention: “O you of little faith, why are you discussing among yourselves the fact that you have no bread?...Do you not perceive? Don’t you remember the five loaves…or the seven loaves?” Matthew 16:5-12.  

Show me all your past evidence as Provider, so that I trust you right now. 

May we respond to this nickname like the apostles did in humble desperation before the Lord, “Increase our faith!” Luke 17:5.

“If you have faith like a grain of mustard seed…nothing will be impossible for you.” Matthew 17:20.