In That Order

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Do you suppose there’s anything random in the Bible – anything at all – any point at which God said to the prophets and apostles, “I don’t care what order you use, just get it on parchment”? Yeah, me neither. Maybe I don’t know for sure what importance is attached to the order of things in Scripture, but seeing how exquisitely Scripture is designed, randomness doesn’t seem likely at all. Even with lists, there seems to be more going on than the clumping of items together. Some lists are descending, with the most important thing first, followed by whatever else belongs under that umbrella. Some are ascending, building up to the most important item. There are other categories of lists, including one I’ve unofficially dubbed “the gotcha list” (more on that when we get into the letters of Paul), but my hope is to get you thinking about the importance of order in Scripture.

     In the fifteenth chapter of Luke, Jesus told three stories. Other than a two-verse setup, the whole chapter consists of them: a lost sheep, a lost coin, a lost son. If ever there’s been an ascending list, this is certainly one, building up to what’s most important. Take a look. One sheep out of a hundred was lost, representing one percent of the flock. One coin of ten was lost, representing ten percent of the woman’s net worth. One son of two was lost – fifty percent of his father’s sons. And whether or not the sheep and coin could be swapped in the order, the son tops out the list – imago Dei once again being honored over any wealth or possession.

     There’s yet another, more nuanced feature to this list. See how Jesus describes the condition of what or who was missing. The sheep was lost: ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost’ (verse 6). The coin was lost: ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost’ (verse 9). But the son – the son was not only lost but also dead: ‘For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate (verse 24).

     As long as he’s lost, he’s dead.

     Have you ever thought of humanity that way – lost equals dead? Think like Jesus and you will. Thinking like Jesus will turn a lot of things right side up.

     On his last trip to Jerusalem, Jesus passed through Jericho (Luke 19:1-10). Up in a sycamore tree, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jesus, was a small man named Zacchaeus. Jesus stopped, hailed the man, and invited himself to dinner. Zacchaeus received him joyfully (verse 6) – so joyfully, in fact, that he renounced the extortion he had wrought as a chief tax collector, and made plans for restitution. And Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (verses 9-10).

     Amazing what a glimpse of Jesus can do.

     For me, it’s a constant battle to not take out my embarrassment, frustration – whatever – on fellow image-bearers. Slathering sarcasm on some random tree or bush is a whole different undertaking than cutting loose on someone who understands what I’m saying. Probably the hardest temptation for me to resist is the siren song of winning the argument, even though I’ve won enough of them to know it’s not good for me – and honest-to-goodness, at the moment I can’t think of a single person who ever benefitted from losing one to me. Thirty-nine years into this walk with Christ, I still have failures… some of them recently.

     I wonder what might’ve happened to Zacchaeus if Jesus had walked right past that sycamore tree and later posted or blogged or otherwise mouthed off about what rotten people tax collectors are. No. Jesus engaged, one on one, setting the person on a higher plane. Did the crowd know Zacchaeus was an extortionist? Of course. Were they shocked that Jesus would rub elbows with such a person? Probably. Was Jesus dodging any of the big issues at hand? Not at all – Zacchaeus came to know what needed to be done. But boy-oh-boy, didn’t Jesus employ the opposite of what methods come most readily to mind for you and me? Maybe you’re a much better wrangler of frustration than I am, but yeah, what Jesus did wouldn’t have been the first thing I thought of.

     When I get to heaven, I’ll have at least a million questions, and there are two things in particular I’d like to know from this Jericho scene. One, what made Zacchaeus so eager to see Jesus in the first place? And two, what was the rest of the conversation around his dinner table? Meanwhile, in this walk-around world, I want to be the glimpse of Jesus somebody needs (Lord, help me!). In any given moment, I want to have the image-of-God issue sorted out like he did. Hmm… sheep, coin, or son – which is most important? Definitely son or daughter, because with people, lost equals dead and found equals alive.

     Sheep and coins will come and go; daughters and sons are forever.

  

Grace and Peace (to put our lists in order),

 

John