Dear Faith Family,
What is it, do you suspect, keeping us from experiencing the freedom in daily life that Jesus promised (Lk. 4:18-21)? Even when we've recognized our neediness (our captivity, blindness, and subjugation), accepted Jesus' words of freedom and favor, and find ourselves on the road with Him, the movements in step with His feel difficult and awkward. Nearly every step, decision, situation, opportunity, commitment, etc., is a wrestle, like our body, mind, and soul are fighting against the motion of life with God.
Maybe you wouldn't describe your journey with Jesus in such a way, but there are seasons when I can. And I know many (too many) who cycle in and out of faith because of similar experiences. Sadly, I am sure you have a friend or two that would agree.
There is an old word for this misfortune: dropsy. It's an ailment when the body retains fluid at the joints, making even basic movements, like walking, especially painful and awkward. Sadly, the illness is compounding, for the very issue (too much fluid) was often a result of the unquenchable craving for liquid that accompanied the disease. When satisfied, the thirst served only to exacerbate the symptoms, trapping the person in a life-thieving cycle.
This bodily alignment mirrors our spiritual plight; at least Jesus makes that association in Luke 14,
One Sabbath, when Jesus was on his way to dine at the house of a ruler of the Pharisees...there was a man before Jesus in the company who had dropsy...Jesus took the man and healed him and sent him away.
(Lk. 14:1-4)
Jesus frees this religious leader from the bondage of his physical entrapment and then diagnoses and prescribes treatment for what is inhibiting the man's companions' freedom in life with God too. A timely diagnosis and prescription for those of us suffering today as well.
While our source of difficulty and unquenchable desire might not be for liquids like those suffering dropsy, we are somewhat obsessed with knowing where we fit. The same illness diagnosed by Jesus in Luke 14.
Later, at the meal, Jesus went on to tell a story to the guests around the table. Watching their moves, how each had tried to elbow into the place of honor, Jesus said,
“When someone invites you to dinner, don’t take the place of honor. Somebody more important than you might have been invited by the host. Then he’ll come and call out in front of everybody, ‘You’re in the wrong place. The place of honor belongs to this man.’ Red-faced, you’ll have to make your way to the very last table, the only place left. When you’re invited to dinner, go and sit at the last place. Then when the host comes, he may very well say, ‘Friend, come up to the front.’ That will give the dinner guests something to talk about!
What I’m saying is, If you walk around with your nose in the air, you’re going to end up flat on your face. But if you’re content to be simply yourself, you will become more than yourself.”(Lk. 14:7-11)
Whether at home, at work, in peer groups, or within social norms, we (at least me) are constantly wondering if we are meant to be there or striving to justify that we belong. Unfortunately, such craving looks for satisfaction in others' assessment of us or our judgment of others. And for a moment, we find what we are looking for. But only for a moment. Inevitably someone by whom we measured ourselves does something we can't, we misstep and lose favor, or opinions and expectations change direction like the wind, and the entire cycle of worry and/or toil begins again.
Jesus seems to think that our preoccupation with figuring out where/how we fit or holding on to our seat at whatever table is why we have seasons of fruitless freedom in our faith. Like the man with dropsy, obtaining what we crave does not ease the difficulty and awkwardness of daily living but only increases it. Yet the Great Physician's (Lk. 5:31) prescription for what ails us is relatively straightforward: rest in what you've received.
Jesus' doctor duties took place on the Sabbath, a day on which God's people were to rest in the covenant of His affection, provision, and purposes for them. It was a day to stop the cycle of worry and work by remembering that they were God's beloved, lavishly and sacrificially given all that they needed to flourish, and empowered to cultivate the flourishing of others.
Unfortunately, like the religious leaders of Jesus' day, forgetfulness blinds us to the truth of our identity and purpose. And so, like them, the simple, God-given rhythm of the Sabbath becomes for us just another day to feed the cycle rather than step out of it. But it doesn't have to be. Like the man with dropsy on his way with Jesus, we too can stop, be healed, and set on a new path out of the cycle. All we have to do is be needy and willing to receive.
If such an invitation sounds good to you, but you're unsure how the Sabbath prescription is filled, I think you'll find this resource helpful.
May you rest in what you've received and experience the abundance of fruitful faith.
Love you, faith family! God bless.