Here Is My Servant In Who My Soul Delights

Traditionally Isaiah 42:1-9 describes one who is known as the Suffering Servant. There is definitely a sense of weakness and vulnerability about this figure in verses 2 and 3. “Here is my servant… he will not cry or lift up his voice or make it heard in the street”. This is one who lives among ‘bruised reeds’ and ‘dimly burning wicks’. This sounds like a subjugated person, a slave whose spirit has been broken… a man living from day to day who does what he is told.

However I also notice that this is vulnerability & weakness that has been turned on its head.

Scripture also says, “I have put my Spirit upon him”. And the suffering servant’s task is nothing less than bringing equity and justice to the nations. This is one who will redress the imbalance… And Scripture says, “…he will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice upon the earth”. Wow ! That is no small task for one who is an exiled foreigner in a strange land.

And what or who makes this possible ? v6 “I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations… I am the Lord, that is my name.”

I suppose my question here is, ‘Is this what it means to begin living life in ever increasing circles ?

It’s interesting… Abraham Heschel makes the comment that no other problem has occupied OT scholars more than the identity of the Suffering Servant. Who is he ? Is he the prophet who wrote the passage ? Is the suffering servant the whole of exiled Jewish nation ? Or is he the Messiah, the one who is to come ?

A couple of weeks ago I described the writing of Isaiah as deliciously ambiguous. This means that over time it seems to accrete more & more meaning. While a passage like this sits well within history, it is ambiguous because it also sits above history. In a sense it defies time – it is ageless.

That’s the remarkable thing about the Gospel… When people open themselves to the Spirit of God there is something remarkably consistent about the outcome. It gives people particular priorities, it evidences itself in particular actions, it inspires people with particular visions… Over time it establishes itself in ways that turns everyday experience on its head… Imagine for a moment the audacious possibility of a subjugated exiled foreigner, an alien bringing forth justice to the nations. Imagine an expat community of weakened Jewish exiles without a country being given as “a covenant to the peoples, a light to the nations”.

I call this living life in ever increasing circles…   

Oral Bible

It’s interesting… the larger part of the Scriptures is narrative. Most of the Bible began life as oral storytelling. The very DNA of the Scriptures are narrative units designed to be memorized. 

In Jesus’ day, Jewish boys between the age of 6 & 11 yrs, would go to their local Synagogue for school and the focus of their studies was the Torah. Apart from learning to read & write Hebrew, kids would memorize Genesis through to Deuteronomy by heart. Kids who showed particular aptitude would move on to memorize the rest of the Hebrew Scriptures then the next step was the oral traditions – the Mishnah – that included the rulings of particular rabbis down through the centuries. Beyond that, gifted students would become disciples of particular rabbis. So if the memorization of Scripture was the foundation of Judaic discipleship, I’m wondering why we don’t use narrative memorization in the same way for kids in our churches ? Particularly if we want our kids to grow into mature disciples of Jesus.

Kids learn & think initially in very concrete ways right up into their teens. The type of Bible teaching that seeks to draw out underlying principles for personal application is much more abstract & suitable for adults. My teaching experiences over the years have taught me that narratives stick much better than principles. Kids seem to get clever at reading truth into stories at a surprisingly young age.

New Tribes Mission pioneered the oral storytelling method as a way of introducing the Gospel to animistic tribal groups. They would begin with the Old Testament and over the course of six months, up to even a year, they would move through to Jesus & the Gospels. The idea was to imbed Jesus’ story in God’s much bigger story that we encounter in the broad sweep of the Scriptures. 

Similarly, when my wife & I were working in Africa, we worked among a people group who were mostly illiterate. That meant they were oral learners & as we discovered over time, truth imbedded in narrative is very important to learning and holding important information to these kinds of people. One of the questions I started asking myself was, “What if we gave people an oral Bible instead of a written one ? What narratives from Scripture would it need to be made up of to capture the broad sweep of the Scriptures & the kernel of the Gospel ?”

As the stories of Scripture become a rich part of our psyches, they flavour our imaginations, our actions and thinking a lot more than our traditional deductive styles of teaching. I wonder if that is why Jesus taught using parables.

He trusted people, with the help of the Spirit of God to come to truth & insight by themselves.

Feeling The Weight of the World

Recently I came across Peter Rollins*  telling a yarn he calls, ‘The Parable of the 2 Camels’. It goes like this…

‘Once there was a merchant who was leading his two camels along a road. One camel was walking slowly because it was weighed down with packs of salt. The other camel moved along much quicker because it was loaded up with bales of cotton’.

‘Now along the way, the merchant came to a place where the road was flooded by a swollen river. As the merchant moved further along the road both he & his camels began being immersed deeper & deeper into the water’.

‘After a few minutes the merchant was swimming & the camels were almost completely submerged. But the merchant persisted. His livelihood depended on it.  Finally the merchant and his camels were back on dry road’.

‘As the merchant made the final trek to the bazaar, he noticed something had changed in the way the camels were carrying their cargo. The camel with the salt on it’s back seemed to have gained new strength & vigor. The merchant puzzled over this for a bit and then realised the water must have mostly dissolved the salt in the packs. However, the camel carrying the cotton was now struggling and groaning under the weight of its load. This was because the cotton had absorbed so much water’.

I like the parable of the two camels. I like it because it makes really clear a holy paradox that exists for people who embrace the Gospel.

I keep finding that whenever I encounter a paradox in Scripture, I need to pay attention because I have arrived at a place of significant spiritual truth. The way forward is not to decide between one possibility or the other but to try to a find way to hold the two in tension. These are places of tremendous spiritual dynamism.

The paradox of embracing the Gospel begins, when like the camel weighed down with the salt, we experience the river of God’s Grace. The mercy of God surrounds us & overwhelms us. We leave the weight and guilt of all our past selfish actions at the foot of the Cross. Our sins are washed away & we emerge on the other side with an incredible lightness of being that floods our very souls. It’s like the old hymn says, ‘My chains fell off, my heart was freed, I rose went forth and I followed Thee’.

This is the grace of the kingdom. This is forgiveness that makes us whiter than snow. This is love expressed as mercy… like being given a 2^nd, a 3^rd and a 4^th chance all at once.

Now the journey of discipleship is one where we keep following in the way of Jesus. So with that incredible lightness of being we enter back into the river – we continue embracing the Gospel with arms wide open. It is at this point that we experience the paradox. We begin to indentify with the experience of the camel who enters into the river with the cotton.

The more that we enter into and embrace the heart of the Gospel, the more we become weighed down with feeling the burden of a hurting world. 

I was talking to someone recently, asking them what their response has been to me talking for nearly 12 months now about mission. This person whose opinion I value said, “I feel exhausted !”

At first I found these words rather confronting. I started feeling a little bit anxious. Then this week as I have been reflecting on ‘The Parable of the 2 Camels’, I have been thinking maybe what my friend has been feeling, is a renewed sense of the weight of the Gospel.

You see, when we feel the weight of the Gospel, at first it can be overwhelming, even exhausting. Yet that burden we feel for a hurting world, that feeling of agitation, in the sense that I must… do… something… that’s not something I can claim credit for. That’s the Holy Spirit working.

This burden that we have for a hurting world, it changes our perception of the world we live in. It makes us see things that before were invisible. It makes us sensitive and aware of the needs of others… It opens us up to life lived beyond ourselves.

It moves us from being passive & selfish into merciful and inclusive action on behalf of others.

So how do you know a person is experiencing the paradox of embracing the Gospel with their arms wide open ?

Jesus says, “You will know them by their fruit”. He says, “Are grapes gathered from thorns or figs from thistles ? In the same way good trees bear good fruit… they cannot bear bad fruit”.

*from Peter Rollins’ book… ‘How (Not) To Speak of God’

Turn It Over & Turn It Over Again

There’s an ancient Jewish proverb from the Talmud I have grown rather fond of. It goes like this, “Turn it over and turn it over again, for everything is contained in the Scriptures. Regard it, grow old in it and never abandon it, for there is no greater virtue.”

During the week I have been reading through the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s Gospel. I have been turning it over again and again, I feel have been regarding it to the point where it has grown rather old. Thankfully, I didn’t abandon it.

For me the Sermon on the Mount has been personally demanding reading. It has made me feel contrite & reflective about the quality of my discipleship; even the integrity of my walking with God.

You can’t read very far into the Sermon on the Mount without starting to feel the weight of God’s glory, the light of his holiness pouring into all the nooks and crannies of our mixed intentions… even filling the yawning gap that exists between our words and our actions.

Like John Calvin before me, I notice that these series of teachings read more like a dense compilation of many teaching sessions, rather than one singular occasion. There doesn’t seem to be that logical, sequential development of an argument that one would expect from a master teacher, delivering his message.

Instead each topic appears like its own particular teaching, concentrated & hard-hitting – complete in and of itself. 

What If Mission Came Home

Last Sunday evening I attended the commissioning of some friends who are preparing to serve in overseas mission. It was inspiring to here them speak with passion and honesty about their desire & intention to serve God in South East Asia. Their challenge came as a question, “How could we simply kick back into home renovation and career building when there are so many people who have yet to hear about Jesus right on our doorstep ?”

Over the last few weeks I have been reflecting on the question, “What happens when mission comes home?”  I have been seeking to challenge the idea that mission doesn’t just belong with the 1% of christians who leave their homes and travel to other lands where the Gospel isn’t. Mission and mission practices belong right here at home as well. Mission could be the organizing principle around which we re-orientate the whole church. Supporting missionaries in other cultures could be but one expression of our total mission vision.

I was reading back through the covenant that my wife & I made with our home church before we left for South East Asia in 2005. In that covenant we said the following,

“We identify the centrality of the missional task within our own lives as disciples of Jesus Christ. We reaffirm our desire to follow God where he leads and to be His witnesses & disciplers in those places. Through the Holy Spirit’s enabling we will seek to creatively evoke and to nurture the Gospel as a powerful & vital alternative to the dominant culture in which we will live. We renew our commitment to open our lives to otherness & difference so that we may authentically connect & participate in the lives of others”.

As a consequence of this statement we committed ourselves to a number of concrete practices. Firstly we committed ourselves to weakness that deliberately sort the role of a learner & a lifestyle of simplicity. Next we committed to listening & sensitivity that sort discernment from the Spirit of God, fluency in language learning & nonjudgmental insight into the cultural practices of the people with whom we will work. We committed ourselves to hospitality that sort to create nurturing & safe spaces where storytelling, discipling & worshipping communities could thrive. Next we committed to advocacy biased on behalf of poor and marginalised people that sort their participation in processes of reversal, empowerment, transformation, healing & reconciliation – so they could experience the presence of the Kingdom of God among them. Finally we committed ourselves to excellence in our professional roles.

As I read back through this list of concrete missional practices I find myself asking the question, “If we were prepared to commit ourselves to these things over there then why can’t we commit ourselves to those same practices back here in Australia ?”

Moving Towards Others

At its core, mission is all about moving away from the familiar, the safe & the predictable. It is about resisting the strong drive to remain where we are. Mission expresses itself concretely as moving towards people and places that are different. Effective mission always involves taking on the role of a learner. It requires acquiring new ways of speaking and doing, so one can thrive in that other place. The aim is to interact & communicate meaningfully with the people we are moving towards, out of the very fabric of everyday life – for the sake of the Gospel. Within this dynamic of moving away from ourselves & towards others, the Kingdom of God spreads like wildfire.

On the two occasions where I have been immersed in living in another culture – I have to admit to it not being an easy place to choose to stay. In both of those places I have been mostly weak and awkward, often overwhelmed and stammering, sometimes even exhausted by the experience.

You might think that in such a place, one’s sense of identity could be in danger of being scattered or even lost. Yet I have found the opposite to be true. Immersing myself and embracing other people and their cultures, has put me profoundly in touch with the person God has shaped me to be. How much more difficult it is to become conscious of your shape and your purpose in the world, when you remain at home.

It is this persistence, this movement towards the not-yet-known stranger that shapes us & concentrates our presence in the world as disciples of Jesus. Think of it like God’s calling of Abraham. He says, “Go from your country… and your Father’s house to the land that I will show you… I will bless you… so that you will be a blessing… In you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”  

So Abraham goes. He begins a journey and most of the time he is so barely faithful. God promises he will make a nation out of Abraham’s decedents but his son isn’t even born until Abraham is a very… old… man. Yet from such a fragile beginning, a story that twists & turns with every possibility of failure, becomes the revelation of God himself – the gospel that is good news for all the families of the earth.