David Bahn – Reflections

A quick internet search reveals just how relatively wealthy most Americans are by global standards.

If you have an annual income of $15,000, you are among the top 10% of earners globally. A household income of $30,000 places you in the top 5%. Earning between $60,000 and $70,000 a year puts you in the top 1% worldwide. In terms of net worth, having $93,000 in assets places you among the top 10% of the world’s wealthiest individuals. To reach the top 1%, a net worth of approximately $870,000 is required. In fact, an American with even a modest home, some retirement savings, and a vehicle is often wealthier than 90–95% of the global population.

In Jesus’ day, such comparisons would not have been so easily quantified. There were no investment firms or stock markets as we know them today. But people still recognized wealth when they saw it. The man who wanted Jesus to intervene in a family dispute over an inheritance shows that people were just as concerned about wealth then as now.

Jesus’ response points us to a different measure of wealth—and offers a clear warning against covetousness and greed. He knew how easily our heads are turned and our eyes grow green with envy. “Be on your guard,” he says. There is real danger—eternal danger—in being rich in the world’s goods but poor toward God.

Jesus undoubtedly drew from the Old Testament, including passages like Psalm 49. His parable of the rich man echoes the truth of verse 20: “Man in his pomp yet without understanding is like the beasts that perish.”

Yet Jesus’ warning and the psalmist’s message, while similar, have different emphases. The psalm encourages us not to fear when others grow rich. Jesus warns us not to be drawn into the pursuit of riches. In both cases, the reason is clear: wealth is not the true measure of life or happiness. Our hope is eternal—anchored in the promises of God and his salvation.

We cannot pay our way into heaven. We cannot buy our way into the kingdom of God. The price would be too high; there is not enough money in the world to settle that debt.

But what money can never achieve, faith in God and trust in his unfailing love can. We need not envy our wealthy neighbor, nor fear the powerful entrepreneur. Their fortunes will come to an end. But those who fear, love, and trust in God above all things are eternally rich in his grace, provision, and steadfast love. Whether rich or poor by human standards, those who belong to God are rich beyond measure.

Over the years that I served as pastor at St. John Lutheran Church in Cypress, Texas, I realized again and again that I stood on the shoulders of those who had gone before me. Whether as pastors who had served over the years, or the people who had faithfully gathered and served in the church. On one occasion, it dawned on me that a pastor who had served led the people to appreciate and respect him and the pastoral office. What a blessing he provided me – well before he retired and even before years later I came on the scene. I didn’t create the high level of respect. But I certainly benefited from it.

How much more significant are the gifts of God – which come to us without any work on our part. Jesus turns the disciples’ attention away from their success at casting out demons, to the blessing that their names are written in heaven.

But there is a danger in receiving these gifts for which we did not work. God speaks to his people in Deuteronomy about this danger. When we receive these gifts by God’s grace, we must be careful not to forget that they come from God. He is the Giver of so many good things: great and good cities that you did not build, and houses full of all good things that you did not fill, and cisterns that you did not dig, and vineyards and olive trees that you did not plant—and when you eat and are full. 

Our eternal salvation – names written in heaven – and our earthly wellbeing – homes, vineyards, food and drink to enjoy – both come from God. He is the only One who gives these things. He may mediate them through others – like the disciples casting out demons. But he is the source. He is the One whom we should fear, love and trust in him above all things.

After reflecting on Job’s anger and bitterness in yesterday’s devotion, I was glad to see that Psalm 23 one of today’s readings.

David wrote this psalm which has been a favorite of many, and has been studied extensively. It is even the subject of at least one book by W. Phillip Keller, A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23. His key thoughts:

1. “The Lord is my shepherd” means complete trust and contentment. We don’t look to others for protection, provision, or direction. God provides that to us, and perfectly so in Jesus, the Good Shepherd.
2. “He makes me lie down in green pastures” requires the shepherd’s intentional care. God is not aloof or uncaring. He has his eye on us and will take us to his perfect place of rest and peace.
3. “Even though I walk through the valley…” is about the Shepherd’s presence, not the absence of danger. We must never ignore the real dangers of the world’s ways. But we can rely on God’s ultimate victory over all our enemies. Forever.

To those three key thoughts, I would note that a change takes place when we move from green pastures to the valley of the shadow of death. In that second place, we stop talking about God. We talk to God. “He” becomes “You.” It is good to voice our confession of faith. It is encouraging to others to express our hopes out loud. It is very good to talk to God. He is open to our words, thoughts, anxious thoughts, and urgent cries. Especially in those moments of fearful challenges God’s direction and protection are so very precious.

We may not wish to consider the implications of being a sheep, but knowing we have a Good Shepherd is a precious truth to hold. And that shepherd laid down his life for the sheep, and then took it up again, and promises that we can be with him forever.

Job is one angry and discouraged man. He has every reason to feel that way. According to God himself, Job was a righteous man. But given permission, Satan visited Job and the members of his family with devastating calamity, pain, suffering and loss. On top of that, his friends prove to be totally unhelpful, moralizing, scolding, and accusing.

So on the one hand it’s not surprising that his comments here in chapter 21 are so very vitriolic. He is angry and he’s not going to take it lying down. He’s going to shout it from the mountaintops. It’s just not fair! The unrighteous and unjust don’t ever seem to get their comeuppance. They live the life of ease and seem to enjoy a life free from the just desserts due them.

Job is saying, don’t wait to punish their children. Do it now. Let their heads ache with the consequences of their wanton ungodliness.

I get it. Who owns the super yachts? Who has three vacation homes that are nicer than even the people in the top 1% of the economic food chain? Who eats Almas Caviar (Iranian Beluga) at $25,000+/kg? Not me. Maybe Job did at one time. Perhaps that’s why he’s so upset. But that’s not the bent of his tirade.

We may wish for the demise of the human traffickers, or yearn for the silencing of voices that incite harm and call upon heaven to bring low those who abuse their power with impunity.

But where will God draw the line? Might it cut a little more close to home than we deem comfortable?

God has drawn the line for us. For us and for our salvation, God drew a line in the sand and put everyone who has sinned on one side (that’s all of us), and Jesus on the other. Then Jesus – the light of the world – stepped into the total darkness of sin, suffering, and death in our place. Those who look to him will discover a universe of pure light and perfect righteousness and a place of untainted justice. It’s not fair. It is grace.

“Well, how well did that work?” Have you ever asked yourself that question? You might have lined up all your reasons for the plan you offered at work only to be shot down by one small-thinking fear-monger. You might have muscled all the authority you can through references, resources, lines of accountability, and authority only to be ignored. You can say what you want, but I’m not going to do what you say. Have you ever heard that? Have you told a worker, “This comes straight from the top,” only to be put off in a flurry of passive-aggressive inaction?

That is what happens when Jesus makes it clear that he is speaking on the authority of his Father in heaven as God in the flesh. He is the great I AM. He makes that claim here in John 8, “I AM the light of the world,” he says [emphasis added]. But the Jewish leaders feel no need to listen to him or live in light of the truth he embodies.

The same happened centuries before Jesus makes this claim. When Moses goes to Egypt to tell, “The LORD says, ‘Let my people go,’” neither Pharoah nor his leaders will listen. In fact the Egyptians make the Jews’ labor even more difficult. They must find their own straw for brick-making, and still produce at the same level.

I know a little bit about making bricks. It is hot, hard, back-breaking, and hand-aching work. For seven months I worked in a brick factory. I remember how a 1500 degree kiln makes the coldest winter day warm inside the factory. But come summer, and that kiln adds insult to injury.

I know, also, about the light of Jesus. It is true, good, and freeing. Jesus’ claim of being the Light of the World is found immediately following the much-loved account of the woman caught in the act of adultery. Everyone wants to condemn her, and stone her to death. Jesus confronts her accusers, saying, “Let the one without sin cast the first stone.” Thud. Thud. Thud. The sounds of stones falling to the ground. Then there is only Jesus and the woman. I do not condemn you, he tells her.

Jesus, the Great I AM, came to seek and save the lost. He was not sent to condemn, but to save. I’ll rejoice in the light of his grace and give glory to him forever.

One day David will be king of Israel. But the road to his anointing and from the anointing to his kingship was not simple, direct, or easy. First he has to be chosen by Samuel although he was the youngest of his brothers, and left out of the initial search by his own father. Then he goes to work as a court musician, and armor bearer for Saul.

It will be a while before David becomes King David. The rest of his story is told in Scripture. He will endure great hardship, unfair treatment, and every kind of challenge before becoming king David. It all started when he was anointed. It will climax in David’s glorious reign as the greatest king of Israel.

I recall that on more than one occasion, I felt as though I was going through great difficulty in my quest to become a pastor. I had to overcome discouragement of my college classmates and would-be girlfriends. I was made fun of when I shared Jesus’ sermon on the Mount in philosophy class. My first time on the campus of Concordia Theological Seminary I was accused of being a liberal, and questioned about my views on baptism. Let’s not talk about the time Diane handed me a brick when I was discouraged about having to learn so many things. It was a momento from my 7-month stint in a brick factory.

You might think that if God has great things in mind for us to do he would make the path clear, smooth, and easy. And perhaps sometimes it goes that way for God’s servants. But great leaders seldom become great through easy pathways or silver spoons. We may envy the successful and powerful. But most all great leaders come to their place of power and influence through challenging and refining experiences.

We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame. – Romans 5:3-5

Jesus’ sufferings produced more than character and hope. His path to greatness was an uphill crawl through dismissal, false accusation, a sham of a trial and on to a cruel Roman cross and a borrowed tomb. He did that for you and me. His suffering atoned for our sins. His life and death won our salvation. And his is the name that is above all names.

It is not unusual to encounter people who have no regard for God. Through their speech, their disregard for decency, their uncaring attitude toward the poor and needy betray their allegiance to other gods. That’s one thing. These same people blame the God they deny for troubles in the world, or seek help by their “good thoughts” or turn to things or gods who will never save.

That is what is happening with Ahaziah, king of Israel when he falls (literally) ill. He sends to Baal-zebub for help only to be thwarted by God’s servant Elijah. Not only thwarted, but confronted: “Is it because there is no God in Israel that you are going to inquire of Baal-zebub, the god of Ekron?” Sadly there was no interest in calling on the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. 

Rather than repenting in humility and submissive faith in God, Ahaziah essentially orders Elijah to come to his aid. He was not about to accept the message that he would not recover from his illness. Twice he as much as orders Elijah to come to him. Perhaps he is thinking he can force Elijah to bring good news.

But God does not draw near to the proud, but to the humble (cf. James 4:6). And to make that clear the first two groups of 50 men are killed by a fire from heaven when the seek to command Elijah to come to the king.

We incline our hearts to faith in a gracious and loving God. And well we should. But that does not mean that we are not also to fear him. God’s grace does not entitle us to tell him what to do on our schedule or how to act according to our sensibilities.

The God whom Ahaziah ignored is still the God who reigns today—the only true God who speaks through his Word, who calls to repentance, and who we must fear, love, and trust above all other gods. He is not a distant deity to be manipulated, but a gracious Lord who draws near to the humble and saves those who call on his name. Before such a God, humility is wisdom, repentance is life, and faith is never misplaced.

As I’ve worked with churches in the Call Process I’ve urged the call committee and church members to make prayer a high priority as they gather information, consider various candidates, interview, and ultimately choose a pastor to call to be their pastor. Several call committees have gone so far as to have a group text every evening as a reminder to pray. Most of these group texts are a simple simple “Amen” text by the members of the group. One call committee leader also wrote a prayer every night and sent it to the group. So our “Amen,” was united in the more specific matters listed in her prayer.

We’ve taken this very personally as well. Diane and I are part of a LIVE group at our St. John, in Cypress. Every afternoon at sometime around 3:10 we text our amens to each other in our group chat. Our particular time is linked to Zechariah 3:10, and a reminder to pray for our neighbors that we would have good conversations across the fences and on the porches of our homes. Sometimes our prayers are a bit more robust than others. We pray for one another as we experience illness, family, or job challenges. Prayer has become ever more focused and intentional through these practices.

Jesus, however, takes prayer to a new level. He has the world in his heart. He knows the battle he must face. He recognizes the lostness of people, and is moved with compassion when he sees them as sheep without a shepherd. So he prays regularly. Jesus would often go by himself to pray (cf. Luke 5:16). So when he comes upon the young man who is severely oppressed by a demon, he is ready.

Jesus will do battle with Satan’s minions. And he will win. Better yet the demon-oppressed man and his troubled father will win. Best of all, we win when we call upon God in faith and anticipation. It may be that our prayer life is best understood not only as a call to relief – or even praise, and adoration – but as a reminder of our need for God. Our prayers can bolster our faith for those times when we meet opposition, challenge, and temptation. So…Let us pray!

We were visiting with friends recently and sharing about our experiences on our trip to Mt. Denali (the mountain now named Mt. McKinney). They had been there at a different tham than we, but had not seen the impressive mountain. On the day we visited about 45 minutes after we arrived, the clouds surrounding the massive mountain lifted. It was a stunning sight. It took our breath away!

Maybe you’ve had a breath-taking moment. Mountain grandeur. Seaside sunrise. Hill Country vistas. Grand Canyon encounters. What a delight these are! And truly, they can be a foretaste of heaven.

When God shows up – as Jesus does here, with Moses and Elijah on the Mount of Transfiguration, or as Yahweh did with Moses on Mount Sinai, or when Isaiah saw the throne room of God (Isaiah 6) – it is called a theophany. It’s a bigger deal than Mountain grandeur or Grand Canyon-esque events.

On this particular occasion, it was not to give the 10 Commandments, or the Old Testament Law, or the design for the Tabernacle. It was to point Peter, James, and John – and with them you and me – to Jesus. Peter got excited and was overcome with unfiltered suggestions. James and John were filled with fear. Luke tells us that Moses and Elijah spoke with Jesus about his coming death (cf. Luke 9:28-36). Mark tells us that God tore the heavens open as he spoke about his Son. But all accounts of Jesus’ transfiguration point to Jesus – the only One to whom we are to listen.

So let’s go up the mountain. Let’s watch as Jesus’ appearance is transfigured. Let’s hear the Father speak so glowingly of Jesus. And let’s thank God that he showed up to redeem and save us.