It can be a bit daunting for someone who’s seeking to explore the Christian faith to try and figure things out.  With all the denominations, theological camps and doctrinal controversies, I imagine it could be pretty intimidating trying to figure out just what Christianity is all about.  That kind of seeker is exactly who Australian author and pastor is looking to serve with his book Simply Christianity.  The book uses the Gospel of Luke to present a biographical look at Jesus’ life and discuss the basics of who he was and what he came to do.

Dickson reproduces the entirety of Luke’s gospel in the book, which is certainly helpful.  He breaks the book up into four sections, offers a brief one-page introduction to each and then takes a few short chapters (3-4 pages each) to discuss different aspects of Jesus life and what they mean for Christians.  At the end of the book, he has a few appendices of supplemental information that break down some common questions about the historical reliability of the gospels, their connection to the Old Testament writings, and other subjects.

Dickson’s commentary does a great job of discussing the important basic and essential tenets of the faith and avoiding discussions that would involve distracting, secondary matters.  Jesus and the gospel message are the prime focus here, and Dickson faithfully uses the text of Luke to reveal and explain the truths that Christians have united around and clung to for millenia.  By design, he doesn’t dig very deep, which limits the benefit that a mature Christian would get from the book.  That’s not to say that they wouldn’t enjoy reading it (I certainly did), just that Dickson is basically laying out the gospel and doesn’t really take the time to meditate much along the way.  The book would be a great source, however, for an introductory study of Jesus’ life for unbelievers.  I can see this functioning really well in a small group setting.  Dickson says enough to explain the Christian faith while leaving plenty of room and setting the table for the kind of quality discussion that could take place in a group.  Plus, the inclusion of the biblical text in the book means that you’ve got everything you’ll need for an introductory study of Luke in one relatively cheap paperback.  If you’re leading an introductory study on the Christian faith or know someone who is looking for some clarity on what exactly Christianity is about, this would be a great choice.

“Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was of the number of the twelve. He went away and conferred with the chief priests and officers how he might betray him to them.” – Luke 22:3-4

Have you ever felt the pain of being betrayed by someone who was very close to you?  Being turned on by an acquaintance is one thing, but being betrayed by someone who you love and trust completely is one of the most painful experiences imaginable – just ask anyone whose spouse has ever cheated on them.  As I read this morning about Judas’ betrayal of Jesus, I thought a bit about the fact that the betrayal itself is one of the sufferings of the “man of sorrows” that we often completely gloss over.

Think of it this way.  Thanks to the commentary of the gospel writers and our familiarity with the story, we know the entire time we’re reading the story of Jesus’ life that it will end with Judas betraying him.  Even the name Judas has come to be synonymous in our culture with traitor, just as surely as calling someone a Benedict Arnold.  The point being, when we read of Judas betraying Jesus, we’re so familiar with the idea that we don’t think of the sting that would have come with his betrayal.  Now obviously, Jesus in his divinity knew all along that Judas would betray him, as he notes throughout the gospels’ tales.  Notice, though, that this knowledge was only because Jesus was divine, not because Judas in any way tipped his hand.  When Jesus announced to the disciples at the last supper that one of them would betray them, none of them instantly thought of Judas – in fact, they each wondered if they themselves would be the one.  All this shows us that from a human perspective, Judas was just as close to Jesus as the other disciples.  Evil may have been brewing in Judas’ heart for a while, but from an outward perspective this was a very real betrayal.

The kiss that Judas identified Jesus with would have been an emotional dagger.  If you’ve been betrayed similarly, think of the pain that it brought and then ratchet it up a notch, knowing that Jesus was being betrayed to his death by someone from his inner circle.  As you ponder that, let your mind be amazed at the pain that Jesus willingly experienced in order to secure our redemption.  We talk a lot about the physical pain of the cross and the spiritual pain of bearing God’s wrath, but he also took on a very real emotional pain in the breaking of one of his closest earthly relationships.

“I tell you that to everyone who has, more will be given, but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away.” – Luke 19:26

The parable is a familiar one.  Jesus speaks of servants who were entrusted by their master with varying amounts of money while he was away.  The ones who made a profit off of their money were commended, while the one who hid his away and did not use it is were condemned.  The point is easy enough to see – God has blessed us with what we have that we might use it for his kingdom, growing the gifts he has entrusted us with.  Usually, I’ve thought of this lesson in terms of the talents, gifts, or material possessions God has blessed us with.  However, yesterday, I thought about it from a new angle.  What about our families?

God has blessed me with a great wife, a wonderful daughter, and another kid on the way.  I’ve been entrusted with much as a husband and father.  So, what am I doing with what I’ve been entrusted?  Along with God’s great blessing comes the responsibility to lead my family well, to raise my kids to know and love the Bible and to point them toward Jesus.  In doing so, I am being faithful to multiply the gifts that God has entrusted to me as our family becomes an incubator for the love of Christ.  My gifts from God aren’t just things and they aren’t just abilities – they’re also people, most importantly.  So, the next time you read that parable from Jesus, step back and consider whether its scope goes beyond what you’ve always considered.

Scripture uses that phrase to describe the mercies of God, and this morning I was reminded that one of those mercies is Scripture itself.  I’ve been following Christ for nearly 20 years, went to Bible college, and have preached many a sermon, so I like to think I’ve got a pretty solid (though likely over-inflated by my own pride) base of Biblical knowledge.  However, this morning I read a passage from Scripture that I don’t remember having ever read before in my life.  The passage wasn’t some obscure bit of data from Numbers or the oracle of a minor prophet, but Jesus’ parable of the dishonest manager in Luke 16.  Now, I’m certain that I have actually read the passage before, but that doesn’t change the fact that I had absolutely no recollection of it whatsoever.  If you would have summarized the parable to me yesterday, I would have told you that I didn’t think Jesus actually told it.  For all practical purposes, this was the first time I’d read these words from God himself. 

When this realization dawned on me a few verses in, I felt like a kid in a candy store.  They say familiarity breeds contempt, and after this morning I can certainly say that in respect to the Bible it breeds a routine dullness.  The feeling of excitement that welled up within me at this new text was wonderful.  I must have read the passage five times over, and then instantly looked for a commentary to help glean out its truth.  I honestly can’t remember the last time that I read a passage that I was this ignorant of, especially in one of the gospels.  It was one of the best times I’ve had alone with God’s word in quite some time.

That got me thinking.  Why was I excited?  I was excited because I love the Bible, and here was a passage from it - the very words of my savior and God – that was brand spankin’ new to me.  I had never considered its meaning before.  I’d never considered its bearing on my life before.  Here was an opportunity to grow in my knowledge of God!  As I reflect more, though, I think it was also a great reminder of the goodness of God’s word and my need to constantly meditate on it.  If I had instead read a familiar passage – say, the sermon on the mount – this morning, I wouldn’t have been nearly as excited.  Why?  Because it wasn’t new.  However, though I may understand mentally the implications of the sermon on the mount, have I come close to comprehensively following them in my living?  Of course not!  So, they contain the exact same opportunity to grow in my faith that this new passage did.  Every morning, I sit on a gold mine, flipping through material where everything I touch is gold.  The only difference today is that I realized it.  So, whether you’re a longtime follower of Christ or opening the Bible up for the very first time, remember this lesson - as long as your need for the grace and power of Christ is present, then his word, like his mercies, will be new every morning.

“And that servant who knew his master’s will but did not get ready or act according to his will, will receive a severe beating.” – Luke 12:47

Next time you sit down to read your Bible,  crack open a commentary, or peruse the latest Piper bestseller, keep in mind that what you’re doing is incredibly dangerous.  You’re seeking to more fully understand the will of God.  Don’t get me wrong, that’s a great and commendable thing.  However, have you ever stopped to consider the fact that every ounce of knowledge you take in serves to increase your accountability to obedience?  In Mark 12, Jesus tells a story about a servant who is a good manager and is put in charge of a large portion of the estate while his master is gone.  This servant knows exactly what his master expects.  However, he doesn’t count on his master coming home early, and the master arrives to find this servant drunk and beating the other servants.  Jesus points out that this servant, since he knew his master’s will and yet neglected it, would receive a heavy beating.  On the other hand, one who did not have his master’s explicit instructions but performed the same actions, though still deserving of a beating, would receive a light beating.  The point to the story is that the more we understand the person and will of God, the more we are accountable for obedience to his commands. 

That should be a sobering thought to us all.  Every bit of theological knowledge you gain could either be a great blessing – drawing you nearer in relationship to God – or a curse that testifies against you on the day of judgment.  Obedience is what decides which it will be.  In other words, your theological bookshelf could be a great source of blessing, or it could be the most dangerous piece of furniture in your house.  Every Sunday sermon you listen to could build you up as a follower of Christ, or it could come crashing down upon your head as evidence of a rebellious heart.  Am I trying to scare you away from studying the Bible?  Of course not.  I am, though, hoping that all of us will think a bit more carefully the next time we pursue knowledge of God, remembering that if we treat that means to an end as an end in itself, it could be the most tragic thing we ever do.

Do not rejoice in this, that you preached a great sermon, or wrote a great blog post, or spoke at a conference.  Do not rejoice in this, that you overcame a long-nagging sin, or prayed for three hours, or racked up a 57-day streak of Bible-reading.  Do not rejoice in this, that you led a friend to Christ, or grew your small group, or attend a healthy church.  Do not rejoice in this, that you have overcome temptation, or acheived spiritual successes, or have climbed the mountain of personal holiness.

Do not rejoice in this, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.

“Then all the people of the surrounding country of the Gerasenes asked him to depart from them, for they were seized with great fear. So he got into the boat and returned.” – Luke 8:37

For generations, it has been a compliment to refer to someone as a “God-fearing” person.  If we describe someone as God-fearing, we are communicating the fact that they are upright and virtuous, a genuine follower of God.  The Bible uses the term in this way, and the Psalms and Proverbs tell us repeatedly that “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”  If someone has a recognition of the glory and holiness of God, that should compel them to live a life that brings glory to him.  However, as I was reading Luke 8:26-39 this morning, it dawned on me that while the fear of God is a necessary starting point for Godliness, it is an inadequate ending point.  It is entirely possible to be God-fearing and yet remain far away from him in rebellion. 

In the familiar passage, Jesus drives out a legion of demons from a possessed man.  The demons enter into a herd of pigs, driving them into the sea and drowning them.  The townspeople, who were not Jews (as evidenced by the fact that they kept a herd of pigs), were very afraid after seeing what Jesus did.  Doubtlessly, they knew all about the crazy, naked, scarred man who lived among tombs and broke every chain they had tried to put on him.  Confronted with the reality of his transformation and the pigs’ destruction, they couldn’t deny that Jesus possessed real and amazing power, far beyond the means of any traveling huckster of the day.  They feared Jesus, but look at what that fear compelled them to do.  They begged Jesus to leave them.  Rather than drawing them near to God, their fear caused them to push him away.

Why would they do this?  Most likely, it was because Jesus was now a threat to their status quo.  Many of their livestock were now dead through this amazing thing he had done.  They saw and understood his power, and they decided that their lives would be more comfortable and safe without it.  They feared the power of Jesus, but they saw it as a threat to their own self-reliance rather than salvation for their brokenness.  Things were quite okay without this guy, they thought, so he needs to move along and let us get back to our lives. 

Does that sound a little bit like our culture today?  How many people do you know who claim to believe in God but keep him confined to some irrelevant corner of their lives – lest he become too powerful and cause them to actually change?  Let’s get even more pointed – how many times do you and I do precisely that?  Being a God-fearing person can be easy enough until the glory and holiness of God threaten something that we cherish and hold dear, such as our impenetrable self-reliance.  Having Jesus around can be a lot of fun until it’s our pigs that end up at the bottom of a lake.  However, a true and good fear of the Lord not only recognizes his greatness, but also the superiority of his ways to our own.  It provokes a self-denying humility, not a self-defensive rejection.  Keep that in mind the next time you consider the fear of God.  It is indeed the beginning of wisdom, but we’re in a lot of trouble if we think it’s the end of it.

“Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven — for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” - Luke 7:47

After reading this account of Jesus and the sinful woman who anointed his feet with oil in the house of a Pharisee, there are two things that are interesting to note from this verse.  The first is what it doesn’t say.  Jesus isn’t making the case here that this woman is forgiven because of her love.  It’s not as if she’s done enough good now to warrant forgiveness.  This is shown by the parallel that Jesus draws at the end of the verse.  Jesus says that he who has been forgiven little loves little.  It follows, then, that he’s making the point that the reason this woman has such great love is because of gratitude for her forgiveness.  The Pharisee was disgusted by the woman’s display and was incredulous that Jesus would actually let a sinner like her touch him.  It would follow, then, that Jesus is here explaining her actions (which is what prompted the discussion) rather than her forgiveness.  Ironically, her forgiveness goes notably unexplained, with the people around wondering aloud how on earth a man could claim to forgive sins.  Jesus point is that love flows from forgiveness, not the other way around. 

The second notable thing is exactly what the verse is saying – that our love for God is a good indicator of the depth of our forgiveness.   The deeper awareness we have of our own sinfulness, the more grateful we will be to the one who freed us from that debt.  That said, what does your passion for God say about your self-perception?  If your love for Christ is lacking, is it perhaps because you look at yourself as a decent person who really doesn’t need God all that much?  Is your forgiveness theoretical or real?  Take a moment today and examine the love you have for the savior you profess.  It may say just as much about your view of yourself as it does about your view of him.

Here’s the third sermon,

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from my church’s “Christmas According to Luke” series, preached by Dustin Neeley from Luke 2:1-21.

“Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you.” – Luke 6:37-38

My daughter has this goofy personalized kids’ CD that is filled with silly songs with her name inserted in them.  She laughs and dances around when we play it, and of course Heather and I end up with the songs stuck in our heads and driving us insane.  The last song on the CD is this silly little ballad about mirrors and how they always reflect our own actions back at us.  The song’s lesson is that people are often the same way – what you give is what you get.

That song came to mind as I read Luke 6:37-42.  Usually, we tend to think that this verse is saying that God will judge us as we judge others.  The problem is, that concept doesn’t really make sense when you consider other things Jesus said – such as the fact that our righteousness must exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees (the most righteous individuals that people in that culture could imagine) if we are ever to see the kingdom of heaven.  In other words, God demands perfection of us (which we can’t achieve, but he graciously provided through the sacrifice of  Christ), and simply being lenient on others doesn’t store up mulligans for ourselves.  No, Jesus has in mind here earthly relationships (which context indicates as well, as this passage comes right on the heels of a call to love our enemies, not just those who are good to us).  He’s saying that the measure you apply to others’ lives is the one that they’ll apply back to you.  Are you harsh and judgmental in your evaluation of others, always looking for a fault to point out?  Then you better believe that they’ll be methodically pouring over your life, looking for some ammunition to fire back.

How are you usually treated by others?  Do you feel like people are always on your case, looking for any mistake or fault to toss in your face?  Before you cry persecution, take a look at your own treatment of others.  Perhaps you’re really just looking in the mirror.  Now granted, I think Jesus’ words here are meant as a proverb and not a universal principle (after all, his crucifixion wasn’t exactly prompted by his own poor treatment of others), but I think we’d do well to remember that there’s more truth in my little girl’s silly song than we might expect.  You do often get what you give.