Steve Johnson's Blog

How far did Christ go to save us? If you were lost now, to what lengths would He go to find you? Those are critical questions for all humanity and are especially important to those who find themselves lost. 

Let’s begin this week’s study in Luke 15:1-2: “Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering around to hear Jesus. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, ‘This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.’”

We’ve come to expect this from the self-righteous, holier-than-thou Pharisees. They felt superior to, looked down upon, and tried to avoid sinners. Thus, they’re critical of Jesus for hanging out with such people. They’re thinking: “If He’s really the Holy Messiah, shouldn’t He be hanging out with righteous people like us!”

Our culture loves to divide people between “us” and “them” based on a host of factors—race, gender, age, ethnicity, wealth, politics, and sometimes even frequency/severity of sin. But God is a god of unity. He loves everyone equally (See Acts 10:34). The only categories that matter are those who are in Christ (i.e., Christians, those who are saved) and those who are outside of Christ (i.e., the lost). As Jesus Himself put it in John 14:6, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Christ’s love for and pursuit of humanity, especially the lost, is extraordinary. 

To set the stage for the first in a series of parables about “lost” things, consider what we know about sheep. Perhaps the most descriptive word is helpless. Lacking claws or sharp teeth, they can’t defend themselves. They also lack speed and common sense. Like a helpless child, they depend on an outside source—usually a shepherd and dog—to guide and protect them. Otherwise, they’ll wander off or get killed. 

From Luke 15:3-7 – “Then Jesus told them this parable: ‘Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.’”

The Shepherd is Jesus. John 10:11 states, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” In Matthew 15:24, Jesus answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.”

The lost sheep represents anyone who has gone astray. 1 Peter 2:25 states, “For ‘you were like sheep going astray,’ but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.” Isaiah 53:6 adds, “We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.” So, in addition to anyone else I might see as the sheep in this parable, I need to see myself.

What did the Shepherd do to save the lost sheep? He left the 99 to go after the 1 who was lost. The lost sheep is not going to save himself. Similarly, Christ left all of heaven to seek and save us. Many rabbis of that time believed that God received the sinner who came to Him the right way—groveling. Even today, we may feel some satisfaction seeing a crushed soul respond to the invitation in tears, confessing their sins. But here, Jesus taught that God actively seeks out the lost. He doesn’t grudgingly wait on them to come to Him. Instead, He searches for them. As one commentary puts it, “God finds the sinner more than the sinner finds God.” This was a new concept for them and may not fit our concept of the lost sinner having to find God. 

When a shepherd realizes a sheep is gone, it consumes him. He worries and doesn’t rest. He goes after the sheep and the longer the sheep is lost, the more frantically he searches. He’ll do whatever it takes.

Imagine your dog escapes the backyard fence and is roaming the neighborhood, lost. This was a common occurrence for us with Penny (the pinscher) and Mandy (the beagle, who’s now dead) back in the day. I climbed over countless neighbors’ fences searching for those ornery dogs.

Now let’s up the ante. Your young child wanders off from the campsite during a camping trip. She’s nowhere to be found. To what lengths would you go to find her? Would you say, “Honey, we’ve been searching for her for two hours! It’s getting dark. Let’s get some rest and we’ll resume our search in the morning.”  Of course not! You’re frantic. You’re not going to stop until your daughter is found, even if that requires activating the National Guard. 

In the ancient hymn “There Were Ninety and Nine” written by Elizabeth Clephane in 1868, we find these lyrics:  

But none of the ransomed ever knew
How deep were the waters crossed,
Nor how dark was the night the Lord pass’d
Ere he found his sheep that was lost.
Out in the desert he heard its cry—
Sick and helpless and ready to die.

“Lord, what are these blood drops all the way
That mark out the mountain’s track?”
“They were shed for the one who’d gone astray
Ere the Shepherd could bring him back.
“Lord, why are these hands so rent and torn?”
“They’re pierced tonight by many a thorn.”

I picture the shepherd, after a long, exhausting search, finally hearing the lost sheep. As the sheep’s cry grows feinter and it nears death, he finds it. Notice, in the parable, he doesn’t punish, reprimand, or beat the lost sheep. He doesn’t make it grovel to the front pew. He doesn’t even walk it home. No, what’s he do? “And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders.” (Luke 15:5) What does it take to put something on your shoulders? You must pick it up! God does the same with us! He lifted us from our misery and our sin and put us on His shoulders. He went looking for us when we were lost and protected us from danger. And then He carried us home. Can I get an Amen?

Have you ever rescued someone? Have you located a lost, crying child at Walmart? Have you posted bail for someone at a jail? Have you ever gone to a bar to retrieve a drunk friend (or an Airman who works in your squadron) and drive him home? What about someone dealing with a tragedy, a crisis, or a loss of faith? Christians, have you ever joyfully put someone on your shoulders? Or have you ever been in a tough spot, lost, and had someone put you on their shoulders? Whether you’re the rescuer or the one being rescued, it is a beautiful thing.

What does the shepherd do after bringing the lost sheep home? He rejoices! Throws a party! That same rejoicing is going on in heaven. We don’t often think of God as rejoicing, but this passage tells us He does, and in what circumstances. “As the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you.” (Isaiah 62:5) Fellas, remember what it was like when you first looked up and saw your beautiful bride in her wedding gown, walking down the aisle toward you? Remember the excitement, the goose bumps, how proud you were of her? That’s how God rejoices over us. Zephaniah 3:17 adds, “The LORD your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” God is your biggest fan.

The religious people of Jesus’ day believed differently and even had a saying: “There will be joy in heaven over one sinner who is obliterated before God.” Christians today must be careful that we do not give the same impression, especially in our often-appropriate zeal to speak out against culturally popular sins. It’s interesting that, even though the tax collectors and sinners were gathering around Jesus (with an opportunity to be saved), the Pharisees weren’t rejoicing over that.

When we get lost, we cannot find our way back. But we think we can. “If I just try a little harder.” Instead, we need the divine love of God to save us. It’s true for lost sinners. It’s true for our world. “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” (2 Chronicles 7:14) God’s love can save us but we still need to turn from our wicked ways—to repent (See Luke 15:7).

During my time serving as an elder at a church in Florida, we divided the congregation into five “flocks” and each of us shepherds was assigned one. While we cared for the entire congregation, I was especially focused on those in my flock. We used attendance cards to track attendance and identify the missing. At regular elders meetings, we prayed for those who were missing by name. We also reached out to them via phone calls, visits, and e-mails—whatever it took. They were missing from the flock. They were the lost child on the camping trip. We went looking for them.

Keeping with that theme, Jesus told another parable in Luke 15:8-10: “Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.’ In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

The Pharisees didn’t like the first parable, because they considered themselves better than shepherds. The same goes for this story about a woman—a second class citizen in that world. 

The coin, like the sheep, represents those who are lost in their sins, apart from God. The silver coin—a drachma—was a full day’s wage. We’re not talking about a lost penny. The woman represents God seeking the lost and also, hopefully, Christians—the church, God’s ambassadors—who should be involved in that search.

Have you ever lost money in your house? How about your keys. It can be highly frustrating knowing they are somewhere. During my formative years, whenever my dad lost his keys, he would have the family line up from one side of the house to the other. Step by step, inch by inch, we did a 100% sweep of the premises, opening every drawer and looking under every cushion. It consumed him (and thus us) until the keys were found. 

Aside from the main point, already discussed with the lost sheep, here are 10 additional applications:

1. Does the coin realize it’s lost? No. The same can be said for lost souls today. People are often oblivious to their spiritual condition. They are in danger but unaware and unconcerned. I hope that doesn’t describe you. We have a sense of urgency when someone cries out for help. Do we have the same urgency when they do not, even though we’re aware of the danger?

2. Even in a good environment, home or church, a person may still be lost. Growing up in a good, Christian home doesn’t make you immune from falling away. I’ve known many teenagers and young adults who have lost their faith and fallen away, even though they were raised by good Christian parents.

3. Unlike the sheep, the coin did not run off. Its condition is the result of the carelessness of another. The sin of one person can have tragic spiritual consequences on someone else. Our poor choices—our sin—can have ripple effects across generations.

4. The coin falls to the floor—the dirtiest place in the house. Without God, that’s where we all end up. As we’ll see next week, where does the lost son end up? In a pig pen.

5. Still, the coin still has value, even in the dust. Even if there are 9 other coins. What’s at stake is the woman’s ability to use the coin toward some purpose. That’s why she seeks it. But the coin itself is still worth something. It still has its full value. That’s why God seeks us. Regardless of what deep hole we’re in, we still bear the image of God. We still have incredible value. Every day, He sweeps the house.

6. God will go to great lengths to find us. In the parable, the woman lights the candle and sweeps the house. There is a recognition that something is lost. We need to show the same care for those who have fallen away. Lost souls, lost dreams, lost hope. Helping people see that they still have value.

7. The candle represents the Word and God’s Spirit. Psalm 119:105 states, “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.” My wife notices and is annoyed by even the smallest light in our bedroom at night. Even that tiny blue printer light changes the complexion of the room and is noticed. For lost things to become found things, we need to light some lamps, friends! Whether you’re a tiny blue printer light or a lighthouse beacon, be a light! Change the complexion of your environment. Illuminate the path to help lost people find God.

8. Just as the woman removes the dust, the church must work to keep its environment clean. Remove the filth—false doctrines, false teachers.

9. As with the found sheep, there is joy in heaven over the found coin. Every hour, every day, around the world, a lost sinner is found—heaven is a constant party! When someone repents, we should pray, rejoice, and then have a potluck!

10. Sometimes you’ll have the opportunity to help God search for the lost sheep/coin and bring them back. Other times, you’ll be the lost sheep/coin. How comforting to know that if you ever become lost—if you ever give up on faith—there will be a search party going on for your soul.

Next week, we’ll continue our study of the parables, once again focusing on something lost that is found. Homework: read Luke 15:11-32, The Parable of the Prodigal Son.

“Hey, son, good to see you!”

When I walked into Dad’s room at the Alzheimer’s care center north of Cincinnati recently, that’s the response I was hoping for and got. It meant Dad was in a good place. He was having a good day. He remembered me.

I make the trip each fall during the week when my father is at the facility. His caregiving wife checks him in so she can get a much needed respite. The staff is good to him but he’s alone in his room much of the time. He sometimes wakes up wondering where he is, why he’s there, and is everything all right. I like to be there to answer those questions and reassure him.

Last year, following a two-hour discussion with him during a holiday family dinner, he leaned over toward me and gently asked, “Are you my son?” That was a gut punch, for sure, not because I was hurt but rather because it reminded me of the slow toll this insidious disease was taking on him. The decorated war hero who once flew our nation’s largest military aircraft, scuba dived in the Bahamas, and was the life of any party, has been robbed of his short term memory and ability to think clearly. I mourn his decline. 

I always ask Dad what I can get for him or what he would like to do. Last year, we went bowling and he beat me one game. It was a great moment, and I soon learned that dementia hadn’t robbed him of the ability to trash talk. The next day, I sat by his bed and said, “Dad, you have money in the bank. Is there anything I can get you? Do you want to take a trip somewhere? Say the word and I’ll make it happen.” He smiled and thought for a minute.

“Well, there is one thing.”

“Good, what is it?”

“I’d love a grilled cheese sandwich and a chocolate milk.”

“You got it, Dad.”

Another great moment. I fulfilled his request and spent the rest of the evening reflecting on Paul’s words in Philippians 4:11-12: “I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances… I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.” Dad may be losing his mind but not his ability to be thankful. He tells me regularly what a blessed life he has had.

Back to my recent visit… I sat by Dad’s bed at the care center and asked if he wanted to go outside for a walk. Without considering he was 88 years old and his son was an avid hiker, he said yes. Twenty minutes later, we were shuffling along the forested Great Oaks Trail in nearby Winton Woods. With each of his labored breaths, I feared I had made a poor decision in bringing him there. But we made the .6-mile, hilly journey along a scenic creek. He was exhausted but proud of himself for covering that much ground. Another great moment. We shared a pizza and headed back to the facility, where he napped for three hours.

The following morning, I sat by Dad’s bedside and asked him about the hike. He didn’t remember it. Dementia had once again erased his hard drive overnight. Dementia sucks. 

On the long drive home to Missouri, I thought about moments and memories. 

A moment is defined as “a very brief period of time” and also “importance.” Dad still has moments. His wife Gail, my sisters, and I go to great lengths to give him “good, important, brief periods of time.” Whether we’re bowling, hitting a bucket of golf balls, or breaking bread, Dad relishes these precious moments with family.

But, for him, those moments no longer convert to memories. A memory is “something remembered from the past; a recollection.” Dad still has several memories from long ago—still remembers details from some of his combat missions in Vietnam. But he probably can’t tell you what happened this morning, yesterday, or a month ago. Try as he might, he just can’t. While I will carry our bowling matches and grilled cheese and chocolate milk feasts with me—as memories—until the day I die, for Dad they were just moments. Important, brief periods of time that were enjoyed while they happened but not beyond that.

When I shared my thoughts on moments versus memories with my wife, Janet, she reminded me that it’s the same thing with our interactions with our grandchildren. For example, over the past month, we’ve had several fun and amazing experiences with Bradford, our grand who just turned two. We rode the train and marveled at hundreds of animals at the zoo. We sang Happy Birthday to him and saw the joy on his face as he opened presents. We tossed more than a few rocks in our local creek. Bradford, Janet, and I smiled and giggled as we made memories. Well, sort of. As with my dad, these were really just great moments for Bradford. He’s not yet at the point of locking them into memories the way that Janet and I have already done.

And you know what? That’s okay. There is goodness in creating a fun, exciting moment for a family member, friend, or even a stranger, even if the “moment” is all it will ever be for that person. 

Someone may need to hear this: If you’re visiting a parent with dementia, strive to give them a happy moment. If you’re feeding an infant child or grandchild, enjoy the satisfying burp they give back to you. If you’re caregiving a severely disabled, special needs child or adult, cherish the single smile in the single moment. If they are unable to smile, know that they are storing up those smiles to unleash in heaven one day. And if you’re singing songs with a Bible classroom full of 2 and 3-year-olds, sing loud enough for the entire church to hear. That these fine moments may only convert to lasting memories for you is okay—be thankful for that.

Precious memories are beautiful gifts from God.

But so are precious moments.

The ultimate compliment is to be called a good Samaritan. It’s a well-known parable that, on the surface, seems easy to understand. Be kind to strangers! Got it—next parable! 

But Jesus has much more in mind. He used illustrations to show us how far we fall short of what God’s law demands—how our good works and religious merit are never sufficient to gain favor with God. We can’t earn our way to heaven. 

In Luke 10:25, a legal expert, trying to trip Jesus up, asked, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” It’s not a bad question. In fact, it’s the most important question one can ask. It’s asked by Nicodemus in John 3 and the rich young ruler in Matthew 19. Jesus frequently posed the question. 

Jesus answered a question with a question, referencing Deuteronomy 6:4-5. The lawyer responded, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” In Luke 10:28, Jesus replied, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.” So far, so good. The entire moral law is summed up in those two commands to love God and love your neighbor. 

There’s just one problem: You can’t do it! Jesus is holding a mirror up to the lawyer to demonstrate how the law condemned him. The man should have been broken by this. He should have asked, “Where can I find redemption?” Instead, desiring to justify himself, he asks, “And who is my neighbor?” 

Ugh! Wrong answer! The lawyer wanted people to think he was righteous—wanted to maintain the façade. Like the Pharisees, he pursued righteousness on his own terms. In Romans 10:3, Paul writes, “For, being ignorant of the righteousness of God, and seeking to establish their own, they did not submit to God’s righteousness.”

It’s telling that the lawyer skipped over the first part of the command—to love God with all your heart/soul/strength/mind. He didn’t go there. Instead, he wanted a technical interpretation of “neighbor”. He wanted the scope of “neighbor” to be narrowed to the point of compliance/righteousness.

You see, if “neighbor = family” or “neighbor = loved ones” then perhaps you have a shot. If “neighbor = friends” you may score highly on how well you love them.

But what if “neighbor = everyone”? What if your neighbor is everyone outside of yourself? What if your neighbor includes your enemies? How are you doing now? What’s your score? The legal expert longed for a narrow interpretation of neighbor because a wider, universal definition would condemn him. Jesus, knowing his heart, could have rebuked the man and walked away. Instead, he shows the man grace and gives him a parable. 

In Luke 10:30-37, Jesus says, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise.”

The setting is a 17-mile-long, winding road from Jerusalem to Jericho. During our 2013 Holy Lands tour, Janet and I saw this dangerous road from a distance. Heading toward Jericho, it drops 4000 feet through barren mountains and rough terrain. There are massive boulders, hideout caves perfect for robbers, and 300-foot drops in some places. It’s lightly traveled except during Jerusalem feasts. With no homes and few stopping points, it’s not a place you want to be, especially during peak heat and cold, windy winters. 

In the parable, a man traveling alone gets jumped by brutal thieves and is robbed and stripped naked. He’s left for dead. 

In verse 31, we find a moment of hope. A priest shows up! A < insert your local preacher’s name > arrives on the scene! That’s great news! If you’re in critical condition in the barren wilderness, how fortunate to have a servant of God show up—a man who offers sacrifices at the temple. Surely, this would be a spiritual, compassionate man who is familiar with the Mosaic law to “love your neighbor as yourself.” The Law also emphasized loving strangers and even rescuing your enemy’s donkey! (See Leviticus 19:18, Micah 6:8, Proverbs 21:13, James 2:13, and Exodus 23:4-5)

What’s the priest do? He deliberately passes the injured man on the other side. Zero compassion is shown. As with the legal expert, the priest’s definition of neighbor doesn’t include this guy. I’m not knocking the priesthood or preachers generally. Rather, Jesus is calling out anyone who knows to do good, has the opportunity, but does nothing. That would include us! That includes me!

Next, a Levite comes by. Levi’s descendants through Aaron were priests. Non-Aaronite descendants served elsewhere as assistants, temple police, and groundskeepers. They were still devoted to religious service and were expected to have a knowledge of the Hebrew Scriptures. 

What does the Levite do? He walks on by. This man likely spent considerable time at the temple doing “religious things” (e.g., ceremonies, traditions), but when it came time to actually help someone in dire need, he flunked the test. 

It’s easy to sit back and condemn these men—shame on them! My early Sunday school teachers often rebuked the flannel versions of these men. But that misses the point! We are these men! We don’t want to get involved—not my problem. We’re busy, in a hurry. We might get hurt ourselves. One commentator calls it, “blind indifference, wretched insensitivity, and careless disregard.”

You might say, “Well, Steve, sometimes I help!”

Great. But what’s the standard? Perfection. We’re to love God with ALL of our heart/soul/strength/mind and to love our neighbors as ourselves. All the time. No exceptions. No margin of error. The law demands utter perfection. 

The truth is we fall far short of this standard. We pass on opportunities every day. That doesn’t make us bad people—we’re human. But the reality is we never fully obey those two primary commands.

The story takes a twist with the arrival of the Samaritan, who was also traveling alone. He has compassion on the poor, bloodied, likely Jewish man. Gentiles rarely traveled that road. It was even rarer to see a Samaritan—the least likely people to help an injured Jew. Samaritans would only travel this road in an emergency. Jews despised Samaritans and vice versa across centuries of conflict. Samaritans were considered ethnically and religiously unclean—descendants of Israelites who had intermarried with pagans in Samaria after the exile to Assyria. Later, Samaritans tried to sabotage the rebuilding of the temple and wall. In 130 B.C., Jews defeated the Samaritans and destroyed their temple. These people hated each other and went out of their way to avoid each other. 

Remarkably, rather than finishing the man off, the Samaritan responds with compassion and empathy. He recognized the need and bore the man’s burdens. Using his own supplies and clothes, he applied wine (an antiseptic) and oil (a balm) and bandaged the man’s wounds. He put the man on his animal—probably a donkey or mule. This was an extraordinary sacrifice, especially for someone he didn’t know. He took care of the man, took him to an inn, paid the bill, and left the account open. He didn’t ask, “Who’s my neighbor?” Rather, it was more like, “Whose neighbor am I?” Answer: Anyone in need!

Have you ever done that? Have you ever set aside everything to help a desperate stranger? How about for an enemy? To that extent?

In my Bible class this morning, two friends shared stories about showing compassion to strangers or enemies. In the first story, a couple took strangers into their home, fed them, and temporarily gave them a place to live. In the second, an American soldier and his team showed compassion to their hungry Iraqi captives by providing them with MREs (food). These are great examples of showing compassion, like the Samaritan. But they are anecdotal. I’m afraid there are far more times when we don’t love our neighbors and show compassion like we should.

You know, there is someone you’ve done this for: yourself! I look after my own needs well. I go to the doctor, fill prescriptions, and pay my bills. I make sure I’m well fed. I might even pamper myself on occasion. If I’m craving coffee, I’ll go out of my way to meet that need. To a lesser extent (truth be told), I do the same for my family members and close friends. You probably do too.

But for a stranger? For an enemy? That’s simply not done, at least not very often. You’ve done some wonderfully generous things in your life, I’m sure. But have you shown love for an enemy the way the Samaritan showed love for this injured Jew? Do you truly love and care for strangers like this all the time? Of course not! Jesus is describing a rare love that has no limits—“loving a neighbor as yourself”. He told this parable to illustrate the impossibly high standard the law sets for us. It’s a rebuke not just to the lawyer but to all of us!

In verses 36-37, Jesus turns the question back on the lawyer: “‘Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?’ He said, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘You go, and do likewise.’”

And oh, by the way, the law demands that you do it 100% of the time! Deuteronomy 27:26 states, “Cursed be anyone who does not confirm the words of this law by doing them.” James 2:10 adds, “For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become guilty of all of it.”

At this point in the story, the lawyer should have pleaded for grace and forgiveness. He and we have no hope under the law. We’re all condemned. (See Romans 7:10 & Matthew 5:48). No one who has ever sinned is fit for eternal life. The lawyer should have realized that, and us too!

There’s an even deeper application of this parable. The way the good Samaritan cared for the weary traveler is the way God loves sinners. The way God loves < insert your name >. Actually, God’s love is infinitely more profound and amazing. He didn’t just sacrifice time and money; He gave up His only Son for sinners, rescuing them/us from hell. Romans 5:6-8 states, “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” 

Only Jesus lived perfectly and was qualified to pay our price. Through Him, our sins are forgiven and we’re clothed in perfect righteousness. To answer the lawyer’s original question, we inherit eternal life based on Christ’s work on our behalf (See John 5:24, 3:36; 10:27-28; 11:26). Eternal life comes not from legal merit but rather is the gracious inheritance of all who truly put their faith in Christ as Lord and Savior.

The story ends. We don’t know how the lawyer responded. Maybe he doubled down on doing more good deeds, like the Samaritan, to establish his righteousness, missing the point entirely. Perhaps he tried to think of other tough questions to stump Jesus with. There’s no evidence that he repented, though we can’t be sure. He just disappears from the narrative.

The story should certainly motivate us to do good deeds—to care for others in extravagant ways. That includes our enemies—your friend who gossiped about you behind your back, your co-worker who took credit for your work, and the guy who tried to steal your girl. Take that lesson with you. Own it. Wouldn’t it be cool to stand before Jesus one day and hear Him say, “Well done, good and faithful servant. I remember that incredible time when you showed compassion on…”

But if that is our ONLY response to the parable, it is practically the worst response you could have. Don’t leave this story thinking, “If I’m just kinder to strangers, I’m good. I’ve earned my salvation.”

No, the story is meant to cause us to confess our sinful weakness and seek grace and mercy through repentant faith in Jesus Christ—the only One who truly and perfectly fulfilled what the law demands of us.

The story ends without a hint of repentance—that must not be our response to the parable!

Homework for next week: Read the Parable of the Lost Sheep & Coin, Luke 15:1-10.

Welcome back to week 2 in our Parables of Jesus series. I compile these notes and present these lessons by drawing from a number of commentaries and videos, along with John MacArthur’s excellent book, Parables—The Mysteries of God’s Kingdom Revealed Through the Stories Jesus Told. I add my own insights and take-aways but rely heavily on the work of others.

Before we get to this week’s parable, let’s examine why, toward the end of his second year of ministry, Jesus switched from straightforward sermons (e.g., the Sermon on the Mount) to teaching in parables. The change followed Jesus’ encounter with the hostile Pharisees over legalism and observing the Sabbath (See Matthew 12 and Luke 14).

Imagine a schoolteacher with a classroom rule that students are to remain quiet and listen while the teacher is talking. A good rule, right? The Pharisees would add to that. Students must sit up straight in their chairs, with their hands on their laps. There must be no sneezing, coughing, or moving one’s chair in order to see the board better. There must be silence! The Pharisees took a good rule and made it burdensome. Additionally, they added that to be a good, faithful person, you must follow ALL of those rules—even though they did not! By establishing their own pet system of rulemaking and keeping, they had missed the whole point of the Law.

Jesus’ change in style—a shift to parables—was a judgement against Israel’s religious elite. Their hardened hearts kept them from finding Jesus. Only someone truly seeking Jesus would find Him and that included making a good faith effort to understand the parables.

In Luke 8, Jesus is out in a boat on the water and a crowd gathers along the shore. Starting in verse 5, He says, “A sower went out to sow his seed. And as he sowed, some fell along the path and was trampled underfoot, and the birds of the air devoured it. And some fell on the rock, and as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up with it and choked it. And some fell into good soil and grew and yielded a hundredfold.” As he said these things, he called out, ‘He who has ears to hear, let him hear.’”

Although the story would have resonated in the agricultural society of His day, the scene may be less familiar to us. In those days, farmers sowed seed in long, narrow, rectangular fields surrounded by footpaths. A farmer would use the broadcast method to throw the seed, a handful at a time, over a wide swath. A skilled sower could cover the entire plowed field with no unseeded margins. However, using this method, it was nearly impossible to keep all the seed within the boundaries.

With that context, consider the four types of soil that the farmer’s seed could land on:

Roadside Soil (verse 5) – “Some fell by the wayside” or “along the path”Refers to the well-beaten footpaths that separated the fieldsUnplowed; in that arid climate, hard as concrete; “hard-baked earth”Seed couldn’t penetrate the soil; it was trampled on or eaten by birds

2. Rock (verse 6) – “on the rock”

Not a rocky slab on the surfaceNot even rocky soil (as some translations have it); no self-respecting farmer would leave stones in his farmland; he removed those during/after plowingRather, a rock bed, typically limestone, under the surface, perhaps 12”-15” deep, covered by a shallow layer of good soilInvisible to the farmer during plowing; plowshare only went 8”-10” deepEspecially in a dry climate, the soil was not deep enough to sustain moistureThe seed goes in, germinates, starts out looking lush, then withers away; roots can’t get passed the rock layerMight initially look healthy and full of potential, but can’t sustain life in the sunlightThis soil is frustrating to farmers; high potential; might grow more rapidly than the rest of the crop at first, as there is no room for roots to grow; really leafy—not a good sign

3. Weed-infested soil (verse 7) – “among the thorns”

Full of useless, wild vegetation—thorns, nettles, thistlesThese weeds take over the field and choke out everything else; grow faster (key aspect of the Genesis 3:17-19 curse)Seed in this soil will not mature to a healthy harvestPlow it up and more will grow, even from the mutilated remnants of old rootsFreshly plowed, weed-infested soil has a deceptively promising appearance; on the surface, it looks rich, well-cultivated, and ready for seedBut underneath there’s a tragic reality: leftover roots and seeds are still alive under the soil, ready to spring forth with worthless foliageWeeds will suck up the soil’s moisture and nutrients, block the sunlight from the crops, and choke the life out of everything growing in the field that is beneficial

4. Fertile soil (verse 8) – “good soil”

Seed flourishes in this plowed fieldRoots go deep; birds can’t eat it; feet can’t trampleClean, weedless soil; plenty of room; “prepared”It yields an abundant crop—See Matthew 13:8, Mark 4:8, and Luke 8:8—30-fold, 60-fold, 100-fold
o 100-fold = extraordinary blessing from God (Genesis 26:12-God blesses Isaac with 100-fold crop & he became very prosperous)
o Not talking about what a seed can yield (1 pumpkin seed = 10-15 pumpkins = thousands of seeds: 100 would not be good)
o Rather, it’s talking about the farmer’s original financial investment; for every denarius spent on seed, he earns 100 denarii on the sale of crops (10 very good; 30 or 60 is spectacular; 100 is a staggering profit)

The Explanation

“Now the parable is this: The seed is the word of God. The ones along the path are those who have heard; then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. And the ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy. But these have no root; they believe for a while, and in time of testing fall away. And as for what fell among the thorns, they are those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature. As for that in the good soil, they are those who, hearing the word, hold it fast in an honest and good heart, and bear fruit with patience.” (Luke 8:11-15)

The seed? God’s Word; specifically, the Gospel message…the good news of the Kingdom. It’s also pictured as seed in James 1:18-21, 1 Peter 1:23-25, Psalm 126:5-6 and also a hint in Isaiah 55:11.

The sower? Not identified. It could be Christ himself; in the parable of tares, “He who sows the good seed is the Son of Man” (Matthew 13:37). But this is a different parable with different imagery. We can’t always mix the details. For example, in the tares parable, the good seed represents “the sons of the kingdom” (true inhabitants of the Kingdom) and “the field is the world”. So, we must be careful not to mingle the symbolism of the parables. If the identity of the sower was important/essential, Jesus would have provided it. For our purposes, the sower is anyone who distributes the seed—you when you share your testimony, a Bible class teacher, a preacher from a pulpit, a missionary, etc.

This parable is all about the soil—a picture of the human heart. Specifically, there are four different kinds of hearts with varying degrees or receptivity. (See Luke 8:12,15) The parable is about hearts in different stages of preparedness, which determines whether they’re in a suitable condition to produce fruit.

The Four Heart Conditions

The Roadside HearerThe hard heart; unresponsive to biblical truth—most disturbing and hopeless of all heart conditionsUnbelief + love of sin = a heart that is dense, like concrete; truth can’t penetrate it, much less take rootHearer is oblivious, hopeless, spiritually dead—totally susceptible to Satan’s strategy… Luke 8:12 – “Those along the path are the ones who hear, and then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved.” (That also tells us our goal, that hearers might be saved.)The Old Testament calls these hearers “stiff-necked” (Exodus 32:9, 2 Kings 17:14)—they deliberately hardened their hearts (Jeremiah 19:15, 2 Chronicles 36:12, and Acts 7:51)This heart is the well-worn, barren footpath; not fenced; exposed to the evil stomping of everything wicked that comes alongNever cultivated with self-searching, self-examination, contrition, honest assessment of guilt, or true repentanceIndifferent to grace or judgement; love of sin; a dense, dry, impenetrable heartThis is the fool of Proverbs—the person who despises wisdom & instruction (Proverbs 1:7)… “has no delight in understanding, but in expressing his own heart” (Proverbs 18:2)Primary target here is not atheists—He’s speaking to people in a highly religious culture; the hardest of all hearts were the religious aristocracy—the top scribes and PhariseesHave you ever had that kind of heart? Or taught someone with that kind of heart?The good news: If you’re reading this blog and reflecting on this parable, it’s highly likely you are a seeker of righteousness, to some degree, and not a roadside hearer—someone who is spiritually dead with a hardened heart.

2. The Shallow Hearer

A shallow-hearted person who responds immediately but superficiallyLuke 8:13 – “Those on the rocky ground are the ones who receive the word with joy when they hear it, but they have no root. They believe for a while, but in the time of testing they fall away.”Without deep roots, vegetation cannot live long in a dry climate; it grows leafy quickly, but dies just as quickly, before reaching fruit-bearing maturityPsalm 129:6 compares the wicked to “the grass on the housetops, which withers before it grows up.” Grass/weeds may sprout in a thin layer of dust, but can’t sustainThey seem receptive; show keen interest… “receive the word with joy”; nothing wrong with joy (we should have joy), but it’s superficial and temporaryNot a question of if but when such a person will fail; the “time of testing”/temptation will come (persecution, calamity); person will fall away—abandon faith completelyThe lack of fruit will reveal it’s not a deep and lasting conviction (See Matthew 12:33)We see this type of hearer with some (not all) of our “Bible camp conversions” or “mission trip conversions”. A young person has had a great, spiritually uplifting week at camp or on a foreign mission field. They’re all excited about their faith but then they get home and soon fizzle. There are no roots. Maybe they thought Jesus would fix all their problems or make life easy; they don’t count the cost.Have you ever had that kind of heart? Or taught someone with that kind of heart? You/They were all excited at first, but the passion soon fizzled.

3. The Worldly Hearer

The weedy soil represents a heart too preoccupied with worldly mattersLuke 8:14 – “The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature.”This hearer responds positively at first, initial signs of receptivity—seed germinates, they “go on their way”; potential to be fruitfulBut sometime later… “but the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth and the desires for other things come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful.” (Mark 4:19)Not a hard-hearted person or a shallow, emotional person; this time the soil is well-plowed and deep enoughBut there are all kinds of impurities in it! Weeds have germinated under the surface and will always outgrow the good seed. Weeds and thorns own that ground.The person is too in love with this world, too obsessed with the “cares, riches, and pleasures of life” (Luke 8:14)—sinful pleasures, earthly ambitions, money, prestige, and a host of trivial diversions all deluge the heart and muffle the truth of God’s WordDouble-minded man, unstable (James 1:8); No servant can serve two masters (Luke 16:13)1 John 2:15 – “Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them.”Material wealth and pleasure are not inherently evil, when properly prioritized and God is given credit (rich young ruler)None of the first three soils bring fruit to maturityHave you ever had that kind of heart? Or taught someone with that kind of heart?This kind of heart is prevalent among many (not all) of the hundreds of prisoners I’ve had the privilege to teach and minister to. Drugs, alcohol, and other bad influences drove behavior that landed them in prison. And many, upon release—even those who spoke passionately about God and getting their lives right—once again succumb to the weeds/thorns/worldly influences around them. Despite our pleas that they seek out better friends/Christian influences, they often return to their old ways, and many end up back in prison.

4. The Fruitful Hearer

Well-cultivated and produces the desired crop!Luke 8:15 – “But the seed on good soil stands for those with a noble and good heart, who hear the word, retain it, and by persevering produce a crop.”This is a truly prepared heart; a person “who hears the word and understands it” (Matthew 13:23); “those who hear the word, accept it, and bear fruit” (Mark 4:20)The person receives the gospel with true understanding and genuine faithJohn 8:31 – “To the Jews who had believed him, Jesus said, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples.”
o The mark of authentic faith? Endurance! Temporary faith isn’t true faith at all.What kind of fruit will this heart produce?
o “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” (Gal. 5:22-23)
o “Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that openly profess his name.” (Heb. 13:15)How much fruit? Abundantly! (30/60/100-fold)—which tells us Christians are not all equally fruitful, and that’s okay. Do what you can with the talents and opportunities you’ve been givenWe’re made to do good works — see Ephesians 2:10Fruitfulness is the expected outcome of saving faith. This can only occur in a heart that is clean and well-cultivatedNote: We can’t do it on our own—we are hopelessly unclean. (See Romans 8:7-8) Only God Himself can plow and prepare a heart to receive the Word (See John 16:8, Romans 8:11, 1 Corinthians 2:10, Ezekiel 36:25-27, Jeremiah 31:33, 2 Corinthians 3:3, and Romans 5:5)We who believe in Christ are dependent on the indwelling Spirit’s work in our hearts to keep us tender, receptive, and ultimately fruitfulI hope this describes our hearts today! And the hearts of the people we teach!

Other take-aways:

When we proclaim the gospel or teach the Word of God to our neighbors and loved ones, the results will always vary according to the condition of the hearts of the hearers. Success or failure does not hinge on our skill as sowers. In fact, in the parable, nothing is said about the skill of the sower. I’m not saying your talent as an evangelist doesn’t matter—it’s good to study, prepare, and become more effective. But it’s really not about your talent—it’s about the heart of the hearer.If you are faithful to the task and stick to it, it’s highly likely some of the seed you throw will find well-cultivated soil, and the result will be abundant fruit. If there’s zero fruit in the life of the hearer, something’s amiss with the heart/soil.In the parable, the method of casting seed is not mentioned. Have you ever been reluctant to share your faith because you’re “not good enough” or “don’t know the right way to do it”? Move past that—it’s not about you. Again, that’s not to say you can’t work to improve your methods. That might make you more confident in sharing your faith. But the emphasis is on the soil—the hearer’s heart.Nothing is said about the quality of the seed. The seed that bears fruit and the seed that gets choked out is all the same kind of seed. There’s no need to replace or update the message, tone down the offense of the cross, or leave the hard or unpopular parts out. Just preach God’s unchanging Word. Scatter seed.It’s all about the soil—the receptiveness of hearts! Simple enough, but that’s the true meaning. That seems to be what Jesus is talking about.Luke 8:8 – “He who has ears to hear, let him hear”Jesus says listen, pay attention, dig deeper, look beyond the surface; Luke 8:18 – “Take heed how you hear.”

6. Perhaps the greatest take-away for me this week is this: I used to think one became a Christian and soon found themselves occupying (being) the “fertile soil”. “I believe in God, I study and am receptive to the Bible, I’m good to people, etc. so I must be the good soil. I’ve arrived and can check that off.” For me, I think it’s more accurate to say, “I love God and I’m striving every day to become good, fertile soil. I want to be responsive to His Word. That’s the goal. But sometimes I let weeds creep in—I sin. Sometimes my thinking is shallow on a teaching and I don’t allow it to take root. And sometimes my heart is just hard. It’s possible for me to be all four soil types in the same week—maybe even the same day! That’s why I need to “tend my garden”—constantly adding spiritual nutrients and pulling weeds. And since even those efforts will ultimately fail, I must rely fully on God’s grace and mercy. If we were able to be “good soil” 24/7/365, Jesus would never have had to come.

May God bless us as we strive to have pure, receptive hearts and may we have opportunities to teach and reach others who are open to hearing the good news.

Homework: The Good Samaritan – read Luke 10:25-37. Which character in the story do you most identify with?

“And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” – Matthew 26:39

On February 22, 2000, at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, Jeff Lewis was ordered to parachute out of a C-130 aircraft. Normally, an army specialist with the Eighty-Second Airborne Division jumping from an airplane isn’t noteworthy. Paratroopers do this all the time. But Jeff was a supply clerk, not a paratrooper. He had no experience with parachutes and had never been to jump school. The order for him to jump was the result of a clerical error.

Even so, the young supply clerk reported for duty, strapped on a parachute, stepped out of the plane on the wrong foot, and began his freefall. Although his equipment got tangled, he was able to open the canopy by kicking with his feet, as instructed in the refresher course he took for soldiers who are already airborne-qualified. That cursory training probably saved his life and, amazingly, he landed unhurt.

When he was later asked what went through his mind during the ordeal, he said he was just doing what a good soldier is supposed to do: following orders. “The Army said I was airborne-qualified,” Lewis said. “I wasn’t going to question it.”

Like Jeff Lewis, Jesus knew how to obey orders. In John 2, when the wine ran out at a wedding in Cana, He showed us how to be obedient to an earthly mother. More importantly, in John 6:38, Jesus states, “For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will but the will of him who sent me.” The note from the margin for today’s passage reads, “Jesus knew what it was to be obedient, to please His Father. Despite the brutal suffering and cruel death that would result, He followed orders.” 

If we’re going to be followers of Christ, we must learn what it means to be obedient. Confession without obedience is meaningless. Repentance without obedience isn’t true repentance. In James 1:22, the half-brother of Jesus, said, “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.” 

God doesn’t call the qualified—He qualifies the called. When He tells us to live obedient, impactful lives—to leap and trust that our parachutes will open—we need to jump!

Jesus walked the earth and taught 2000 years ago, and today people are still studying, amazed by, and affected by His teachings. Even atheists who reject His divinity can’t ignore the power of what He taught. His impact is undeniable. He was both a brilliant teacher and skilled communicator—the best there ever was.

Our Savior often taught using short, fictional stories called parables. He used about 40 scenes and references that His audience could relate to—agricultural metaphors, household items, and common people. Most are in Matthew and Luke; none are in John. These stories have a way of sticking in the listener’s heart and mind. I’ll read about the prodigal son and then, a week later, wake up in the middle of the night imagining what it would have been like to be the father welcoming home his long lost son. Or perhaps I’ll wonder whether I would have been the good Samaritan if presented with a similar opportunity to help. As the Master Teacher, Jesus gets us thinking. 

If Jesus were here today, teaching us in person, what new parables might He tell? What common items or cultural references might He use? Perhaps He would use social media to illustrate the difference between who we really are and the image we like to project. Maybe He would begin, “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a computer virus…” Or perhaps Jesus would reference Peter texting three young ladies for a date. Two of them have him blocked but the third accepts the invitation and reaps the benefits.

“Parable” comes from two Greek words – para (“beside”) and ballo (“throw”). Literally, it means “to place alongside”. To help you understand one principle or truth, I’m going to throw something else alongside it that is alike in some way. I’m going to use a metaphor, simile, or some other word picture to help you grasp a truth from the spiritual realm. As one commentator put it, a parable is “an ingeniously simple word picture illuminating a profound spiritual lesson”.

Don’t be surprised if, at first glance, you find a parable puzzling. Its meaning may not be straightforward and clear, and that’s by design. That can be frustrating if you like clear, concise instructions in as few words as possible. “Just tell me what I need to know! Explain everything! You got two minutes!” Jesus flips that notion upside down and invites us to meditate on the story. He wants our minds to marinate in His wisdom. We should approach the tale as we would a riddle, puzzle, or detective story. As we struggle with the mystery, we learn.

With these parables, Jesus is trying to get our attention and get us listening and thinking. Why? Because He knows we’re generally terrible listeners. When I’m focused on one thing—juggling one tennis ball—I don’t always hear my wife trying to go over our plans for the week. When I have three balls in the air—paying bills, writing, and watching the Cardinals play—I may miss her warning that our house is on fire. Or, while she’s talking, I may mentally rush ahead of her. Rather than listen, I’m formulating my rebuttal. My own thoughts and voice stand out. Jesus knows these listening tendencies. It’s truly difficult to hear Him sometimes. If the story or puzzle is too easy, we may race ahead of Him, finishing His thought or preparing our response. In short, Jesus wants us to slow down, ponder the puzzle, and contemplate the meaning.

For more insight on His approach, consider Matthew 13:10-15: “Then the disciples came and said to him, “Why do you speak to them in parables?” And he answered them, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given. For to the one who has, more will be given, and he will have an abundance, but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. This is why I speak to them in parables, because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand. Indeed, in their case the prophecy of Isaiah is fulfilled that says:

“‘“You will indeed hear but never understand,
    and you will indeed see but never perceive.”
For this people’s heart has grown dull,
    and with their ears they can barely hear,
    and their eyes they have closed,
lest they should see with their eyes
    and hear with their ears
and understand with their heart
    and turn, and I would heal them.’

There’s a lot to unpack there. It seems that for those who want to hear and learn, the parables will reveal truth. However, the meaning is hidden from those who lack the desire to seek out Christ’s meaning. We can also ruin the lesson if we try to filter it through our own human wisdom. If, for example, we believe that the prodigal son who squandered his inheritance is a freeloader who should do jail time before being forgiven by his father, we’ll muddle Jesus’ message on repentance and forgiveness. We become the older brother.

To illustrate the above passage by “throwing something alongside it,” consider you’re in a classroom full of students. The teacher divides you into two groups and gives each group the same difficult, unconventional, 2000-piece jigsaw puzzle. There are odd shapes and colors and far too many blue sky pieces. The teacher informs the class that once the puzzle is completed, it can be flipped over to reveal an important message. Group 1 is too tired, lazy and disinterested to solve the puzzle. They just sit there. Their eyes might as well be closed. Group 2, on the other hand, is highly motivated. They attack the puzzle, work it diligently, and eventually complete it. They flip the completed puzzle over and the special message is revealed.

In a sense, Jesus’ approach was a divine judgement against those who met His teaching with scorn, unbelief, or apathy. His self-righteous, self-sufficient hearers closed their hearts and minds to His instruction. They learned nothing and their hardened hearts were revealed. However, the same parables revealed those eager souls with childlike faith. Those who hungered and thirsted for righteousness could solve the mystery, complete the puzzle, and learn the important, life-changing truth.

Let’s set the stage for these parables. Matthew 13:1-2 reads, “That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat in it, while all the people stood on the shore.” Jesus has come on the scene and is attracting big crowds. It makes sense that He would go out on boat to create separation in order to teach the masses. The natural amphitheater would allow His voice to carry over the water.

As for his core message, we turn to Matthew 4:17 and 4:23. “From that time on Jesus began to preach, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” … “Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and healing every disease and sickness among the people.” Jesus focused heavily on the arrival of God’s Kingdom—God’s reign and rule was happening in the here and now, through Him. The Kingdom of Heaven, or Kingdom of God, was/is a spiritual kingdom and a near-term reality—made up of his followers, the church. Christians are citizens of God’s Kingdom. The Kingdom is also referenced in the Bible as a future reality… “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne…. Then the King will say to those on his right, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.” (Matthew 25:31, 34) 

So, to recap, God reigns eternally over his entire creation. Jesus arrived on the scene to usher in a new manifestation of God’s rule, the Kingdom of Heaven, with the subjects being his followers, i.e. Christians, i.e. the church. If you want in the Kingdom, you want in the church. And you can’t have Jesus without the church because the church is Christ’s body. There’s also a final/future manifestation of the Kingdom, commonly known as heaven, where Christians will spend eternity.

The parables are not just self-contained moral tales about being kind and not lying and such. Rather, they revolve around a main idea. Something has happened with Jesus’ arrival—with God’s reign and rule over the world; heaven has invaded earth, in the person of Jesus. As a young Christian, I wrongly thought that we’re here on earth and God’s Kingdom is “up there,” in heaven. So, the goal is to survive/get by here on earth, bide our time, and then go to the Kingdom of Heaven. 

A better way to look at it is that we are to repent for the Kingdom of Heaven is here. Heaven invaded earth, in the person of Jesus, and He established a spiritual Kingdom, His church, made up of Christians. God reigns and rules in us and His Holy Spirit guides us. We are to be new creations—transformed in His likeness (See Romans 12:2). We’re called to be Kingdom people—while here on earth. We don’t just sit here, waiting it out, quietly biding our time, waiting on heaven. We’re IN the Kingdom now and we ARE the Kingdom now and we need to be about Kingdom business now. 

Jesus’ parables, then, are designed to help us think through what life in that Kingdom looks like. We’ll discover that Matthew’s versions are shorter—just the facts. Luke’s accounts give the characters more story and personality. If you notice some differences in the accounts, note that Jesus could have told different versions at different times, with the spiritual message being the same. Also, there’s usually one main point so be careful not to try to find meaning in every detail. For example, in order to repent, I must hit rock bottom in a pig pen. Well, sort of, but not literally. 

Your homework assignment for this week: Read the Parable of the Sower — Luke 8:4-15. Consider times in your life when your heart could be described by one or more of the types of soil. Also, consider the different soils (hearts/receptiveness) of the people you have tried to teach and reach. 

Over the next couple of months, I hope you’ll join me as we immerse ourselves in Jesus’ parables. I believe that you’ll come away a better person and a more committed disciple by the end of the study. The words of Jesus have the power to do that. And if you ever want to become a Christian, I’ll be happy to talk to you about that as well.

Having Jesus’ feet implies a willingness to go—to be moved by God. Our Savior was willing to go anywhere to teach, preach, heal, and make disciples. We, too, should be willing to go to where lost and hurting people are, even if that involves risk. 

Once we get there, we need Jesus’ eyes—eyes that are perceptive to the needs of those around us. We need compassionate eyes that notice the broken-hearted—the ones forgotten. As best we can as mere humans, we need to strive to see people the way Jesus did.

But going and seeing are not enough. 1 John 3:17 states, “But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?” Going to a brother and noticing his need is clearly not enough. That doesn’t get the job done.

Well, what if I just say something nice and encouraging to the person? Will that check the box? James anticipates this proposition in James 2:15-16: “If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled,’ without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that?’” 

I appreciate his bluntness although it stings. 

So, if going, noticing, and offering platitudes are not enough, what’s missing? What else do I need? In short, the hands of Jesus. Christians, to the best of our ability, we’ve got to address the problem or find someone who can. As Christ’s ambassadors on this earth, we’ve got to do something! 

Having Jesus’ hands implies a willingness to work—to get our hands dirty and do whatever is required. Our hands are the instruments of our work. Jesus told his disciples, “But it shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:43-45). He walked the talk when He washed his disciples’ feet (John 13) and even more so when He gave His life on the cross (1 John 3:16). 

What, then, is expected of His followers? Jesus couldn’t have been clearer. “If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you” (John 13:14-15). Washing someone’s feet is generally viewed as a metaphorical act of service illustrating love and active kindness. 

But it can also be literal. Some of the most meaningful experiences in my spiritual journey have involved washing feet. On most of our mission trips to Honduras, we visit the Didasko orphanage and wash the feet of the young female residents—girls who are looked down upon in that society and treated as second-class citizens. These are powerful bonding moments that send a clear message that God values these “Daughters of the King” and so do we. 

During my time as an elder at a church in Florida, 3rd grade Bible class teacher Bob Herkelman invited the elders to visit his classroom each fall to pray with his students and then wash their feet. After we got past the initial giggling and awkwardness, we found the practice to be the ultimate ice-breaker. Year after year, it laid a foundation for cross-generational relationships. A child who learns that a church leader cares about him in third grade is a thousand times more likely to seek advice from that elder at age 20 or 40 or 70. So, yes, sometimes washing feet means exactly that. It’s one way to have the hands of Jesus.

How else did Jesus use His hands? For starters, He worked as a skilled carpenter. Like some Sojourners I know, He blessed people through his trade—through his skills and abilities. Even when His disciples disagreed, Jesus had children brought to him and He blessed them with His hands. He also used His hands to heal, including spreading mud on a blind man’s eyes and lifting Jairus’ daughter from her deathbed. Jesus even touched lepers despite the fear and revulsion of most people around them. Time and time again, we see Jesus going, noticing needs, and then using His hands to address those needs. 

The Bible challenges us to get involved and have the hands of Jesus. Hands that will:

Love our neighbors (Mark 12:30-31). Can you help a friend (or stranger) move? Can you sooth a fretful baby so a new mom can listen in worship? Can you chauffeur someone from your church or community to an appointment? (An unbelievable number of people need this!)Take care of the poor (Deuteronomy 15:11). Can you intercept and pay a former prisoner’s utility bill? Can you mow and trim the yard of a complete stranger in a poor part of town?Feed the hungry (Isaiah 58:10). Can you assemble food at a food bank? How about distributing ice-cold Gatorade bottles to construction workers in and around Tegucigalpa, Honduras (or St Louis) in the dead of summer? (No, better not do that. That would involve risk!)Clothe the needy (1 John 3:17). Can you give the poor not just your old, raggedy stuff but some new stuff?Be hospitable to strangers (Matthew 25:35). Can you have a new person to the community over for dinner? Or change a stranger’s flat tire?Heal the sick (Luke 10:9, James 5:14). Can you use your medical training locally or on a foreign mission field? Can you hold the hand of a sick friend while praying for their healing?Care for the captive, the prisoner, and the oppressed (Hebrews 13:3, Matthew 25:36). Can you help a stranger clean up after a storm? What about hugging a grieving friend? Can you give someone who is caring for an aging parent or special needs child the day (or weekend!) off so they can get a much-needed break?

Some final principles:

Remember the “OAR” formula… Opportunity + Ability = Responsibility. We’re not called to do things we can’t do or know nothing about. Focus on what is before you that you can act on. And, where appropriate, involve your children or some other younger Christian in the ministry. Strengthen “the hands” of the next generation.Your act of service doesn’t have to be some “big” thing. In fact, most of our acts of compassion will be small things. God sees everything and they’re all big to Him.Be sure to work in some fun, crazy, unconventional things. Life is too short to only do boring stuff. I watched an Instagram video this week of a guy who gave a struggling street vendor $500 for ALL of her hot dogs (and a big tip) and then distributed those hot dogs to the nearby homeless. (I know, can’t do that! Too risky!) Another couple of guys tried to distribute two dozen McDonald’s sausage biscuits to people in the waiting rooms and behind the desks at a local hospital. After distributing 23 of the biscuits to various, quite appreciative loved ones and staff and offering prayers for patients willing to be prayed for, the men were kicked out of the hospital by security. The audacity! The men split the last biscuit on the way out and would do it all again! Being the hands of Jesus doesn’t have to be boring. Every once in a while, try a roundoff from the balance beam!Strive to be versatile and multi-functional, like the blank tile in a game of Scrabble. Develop new skills. Push your boundaries. Grow spiritually. For example, you may only become a great (or even average) Bible class teacher by attempting it, working at it, and having a mentor show you the way. Try not to go to your grave having only tapped 2% of your God-given potential. (See Matthew 25:14-30)As added motivation, remember Christ’s words in Matthew 25:40: “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” Whatever we do for someone else, however big or small, we effectively do for Jesus. Let that sink in. He notices it. He feels it. And He gets all the glory! This is one way to indirectly (or would it be directly?) thank Jesus for all that He has done for us.

As I finish my thoughts on having the eyes, feet, and hands of Jesus, it occurs to me that what we really want is to have the heart of Jesus.  Because to the extent we have Jesus’ heart—full of love and compassion—the feet, eyes, and hands will follow.

I’ll end where I began, with the beautiful prayer of a 16th Century Spanish nun, St. Teresa of Ávila:

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours. 

We begin, again, with the beautiful prayer of a 16th Century Spanish nun, St. Teresa of Ávila:

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours. 

             — St. Teresa of Ávila

Having Jesus’ feet implies a willingness to go—to be moved by God. Our Savior was willing to go anywhere to teach, preach, heal, and make disciples. We, too, should be willing to go to where lost and hurting people are, even if that involves risk. But going isn’t enough. What happens when we get there?

Friends, we also need the eyes of Jesus. But what does that entail?

I’ll begin with Brandon Heath’s “Give Me Your Eyes”—a 2008 song that has inspired and challenged me since the first time I heard it. In the video, he’s returning from a trip and is about to land. 

Look down from a broken sky

Traced out by the city lights

My world from a mile high

Best seat in the house tonight

Have you been there? Flying home. Feeling good. Window seat. The man looks down on his beautiful home city all lit up.

Touch down on the cold black top

Hold on for the sudden stop

Breath in the familiar shock

Of confusion and chaos

All those people going somewhere

Why have I never cared

In an instant, the peace and serenity turn to chaos and confusion. He’s surrounded by humanity. People are scrambling to make a connecting flight or retrieve luggage. Troubled expressions in every direction. Something inspires the man to look at them, to really see them, perhaps for the first time. 

Give me your eyes for just one second

Give me your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give me your love for humanity

Give me your arms for the broken hearted

The ones that are far beyond my reach

Give me your heart for the ones forgotten

Give me your eyes so I can see

Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah

The man appeals to God to open his eyes to hurting people—the broken-hearted, the ones forgotten; to see them and love them like Jesus did. He exits the airport with a new set of eyes.

Step out on a busy street

See a girl and our eyes meet

Does her best to smile at me

To hide what’s underneath

There’s a man just to her right

Black suit and a bright red tie

Too ashamed to tell his wife

He’s out of work, He’s buying time

All those people going somewhere

Why have I never cared

The man notices a hurting girl on the street who is hiding something underneath. Who are the people around us who are “hiding what’s underneath”? He doesn’t just notice the distraught man in a suit. He goes deeper, imagining what could have brought the man to such despair. Christians, do we care about these forgotten people? Do we even notice them?

Give me your eyes for just one second

Give me your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give me your love for humanity

Give me your arms for the broken hearted

The ones that are far beyond my reach

Give me you heart for the ones forgotten

Give me your eyes so I can see

Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah

The man is asking God for a second chance and a new perspective—to be able to see people the way Jesus did… to notice them at grocery stores, while waiting for the bus, on the back pew, or just people we pass on the street. He’s asking for Jesus’ eyes.

I’ve been here a million times

A couple of million eyes

Just move and pass me by

I swear I never thought that I was wrong

Well I want a second glance

So give me a second chance

To see you the way you’ve seen the people all along

Jesus’ eyes noticed things. He picked up on big things—the lame, the demon-possessed—but also on the subtleties. When Jesus looked at the people he met, he didn’t judge them by the standards of the day. He looked beyond the outward circumstances of their lives—circumstances that invited condemnation from the religious leaders and the community—and showed them love. 

Consider Jesus’ compassionate exchange with the woman caught in adultery or his interactions with Zacchaeus, the tax collector reviled in his community. Or how about when He went to a well at noon and had what for many would be an awkward, difficult conversation with an outcast Samaritan woman who had had five husbands and was living with a man not her husband.

One commentator mentions that Jesus brought “sandpaper” to each situation, but it always had just the right amount of grit. He could love, challenge, encourage, and motivate… all in the same interaction.

We need to not only be willing go to go to challenging places (the feet of Jesus), but notice things once when we get there (His eyes). I’ve got work to do here. I’m not nearly as perceptive as my wife, Janet. While driving home after worship services, she’ll ask, “Did you notice David wasn’t himself today?” I’ll reply, “David was at church today?” While I’m focused on the impressive way the preacher has organized his sermon, my wife is noticing people. I need to do a better job at noticing who’s here, who’s missing, and how the people who are here are doing.

That’s having the eyes of Jesus. Your head is on a swivel. You’re paying attention.

At a recent men’s retreat, I asked the attendees to close their eyes. I then asked them what was red in the room. Only one of them knew. He pointed in the direction of his friend who was wearing a red shirt. I then asked them to open their eyes and look for red. It was all around them! They pointed at a red cup, an American flag, various items of clothing, and other things. You see it’s easy to notice red when you’re looking for it. And it’s easy to notice the needs of those around us—the ones forgotten—when we wake up every morning with the eyes of Jesus.

What if we each took the chorus to “Give Me Your Eyes” and made it our life’s motto?

Give me your eyes for just one second

Give me your eyes so I can see

Everything that I keep missing

Give me your love for humanity

Give me your arms for the broken hearted

The ones that are far beyond my reach

Give me you heart for the ones forgotten

Give me your eyes so I can see

St. Teresa of Ávila and I don’t have much in common. She was a petite 16th Century Spanish nun and I’m a largish 21st Century American Christian. Doctrinally, we don’t align on some issues. But she wanted to share God’s love with those around her—I identify with that. That’s what I want my life to be about. She felt—as do I—that we are Christ’s ambassadors—His representatives in this messed up world. In 2 Corinthians 5:20a, Paul puts it this way: “Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us.”

As such, it’s up to Christians to be Christ’s feet, His eyes, and His hands. Collectively, Christians—the church—are His body. Here’s how a nun who lived 500 years ago put it:

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours. 

             — St. Teresa of Ávila

How can we do that? How can we love the people we meet, even in the routine circumstances of our lives? How can we be God’s ambassadors here on earth? What does it mean to be the feet, eyes, and hands of Christ?  

Let’s start with His feet. Having Jesus’ feet implies a willingness to go—to be moved by God. Our Savior was willing to go anywhere to teach, preach, heal, and make disciples. 

In Mark 5, He was willing to travel to the country of the Gerasenes to confront a demon-possessed man who lived among the tombs and had broken the chains that bound him. The scary, pitiful man cried out and cut himself night and day. Jesus was willing to go there, confront the demons, and cast them into a herd of pigs.

Our Lord was also willing to go into a “den of thieves” and overturn tables in Mark 11. The vendors had turned God’s house of prayer into a marketplace and were ripping off their customers. Jesus was willing to go there to say and do some hard things. Are we?

In John 11, Jesus was willing to walk to Bethany, knowing that his friend Lazarus had died. He comforted Martha and Mary and ultimately raised Lazarus to life again.

Most importantly, Jesus’ feet took Him to a hill on the outskirts of Jerusalem, where He died on a cross, paying the ultimate price for humanity’s sin. According to Romans 5:8, “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

Do we have the feet of Jesus? Are we willing to go?

We find many examples in Scripture of faithful believers who were willing to go. Abraham was instructed to leave his country and relatives and go to a land God would later show him (Genesis 12:1). He trusted God and “it was credited to him as righteousness” (Genesis 12:6). He had willing feet.

Ruth, a childless widow, was willing to leave her homeland and family and accompany her mother-in-law, Naomi, to Judah (Ruth 1). Her sacrificial actions showed deep loyalty, obedience, diligence, and love. Like Abraham, Ruth had willing feet. 

In the New Testament, Jesus called 12 ordinary young men to become his closest disciples, asking them to walk away from their jobs, families, and personal safety to do so. They dropped everything and followed Him. Their willing feet tracked the steps of Jesus.

Jonah, on the other hand, ran from God’s call to Nineveh, fearful of what might come of such a risky venture (Jonah 1). At the beginning of his story, his feet were unwilling to go where God was calling him. Have you ever felt unwilling to answer God’s call?

Christians, if we’re going to be Christ’s ambassadors, we need to be willing to go. Imagine Mike Huckabee, the U.S. Ambassador to Israel, telling the President, “I appreciate you appointing me ambassador. It’s truly an honor to serve. But just so you know, I won’t actually be traveling to Israel. Too risky!” In Matthew 28:19-20, Jesus says, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Being the “feet” of Jesus, therefore, implies that Christ’s followers will actually get up and go. 

Don’t get me wrong—sending missionaries to faraway places is wonderful. God needs senders. And due to health, age, or other constraints, “going” may not be possible for some. But, as one preacher put it, “going has to be more than just sending.” Whether it’s in our immediate circles, our neighborhoods, or globally, we are commissioned to share the good news of what Jesus Christ has done, is doing, and will do and not keep the gospel hidden to ourselves.

I’m afraid we tend to want to comfortably stay where we are, surrounded by people who look like us and believe like us, rather than venturing out where needs are. Think about it—it’s possible to live in a gated (or exclusive) community, home school your kids, and hang out and worship with mainly Christians. If you work from home and do your shopping online, you can avoid even more interaction with “the world.”

I’m not knocking any of those things individually. There are upsides to limiting our risk and exposure to the world. I’m thankful for my Christian friends and love being around them. The problem is we can’t be the light of the world (Matthew 5:14) if we’re not around some darkness. We can’t be the salt of the earth (Matthew 5:13) if we have isolated our seasoning from the world.

Jesus ate with tax collectors and sinners, and yet we who call ourselves Jesus’ followers sometimes give the impression we only want to be around Christians like us. How can we reach people who we’ve largely excluded ourselves from? To be effective ambassadors of Christ, we simply must have touch points with our lost and dying world.  

Christians, in short, we need the feet of Jesus—feet that are willing to go. We need to be willing to go where lost and hurting people are—prisons, disaster areas, mission fields, homeless shelters, inner cities, and crisis pregnancy centers. 

“But that could be risky!”

You bet it could be risky! 

How can we read the Bible and walk away thinking our Christian walk—our Christian ministry—doesn’t involve risk? God has always looked for people willing to set aside their personal comforts and interests to follow him and share in His ministry. He’s invested in the growth and transformation of His followers (Romans 12:1-2), and part of that growth involves being challenged and stretched.

Have you been challenged in serving God lately? Have you been stretched? Have you taken on any risk to serve Christ? Have you taught a Bible class for the first time, despite concerns over not being sufficiently qualified? Have you invited a neighbor or co-worker to church, despite concerns that the conversation might feel awkward or somehow harm the relationship?

Jesus warned his would-be disciples that following Him wasn’t for the faint of heart. “If anyone wishes to come after Me,” He said, “he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it” (Mat. 16:24-25). Every faithful servant of God who we read about took risks—many suffered and some gave their lives for Jesus and the message of the gospel. Sadly, many others found the cost of discipleship too much to bear and turned back.  

In my all-time favorite YouTube video, Francis Chan pretends to be an Olympic gymnast competing on the balance beam. He carefully crawls onto the beam and then clings to it tightly with both hands for the duration of the routine. He dismounts by carefully crawling off the beam then triumphantly raises his hands toward the judges, anticipating a stellar score. Chan asks, “What are the judges supposed to do with that?” How are they supposed to score the routine highly when the gymnast played it safe and took no risks? 

Granted, we can’t earn our way to heaven—my salvation is based on what Jesus did on the cross, not my earthly deeds. Same goes for you. But in response to Jesus selflessly shedding His blood for me, I should be willing to take some risks for Him. I should be willing to go. I don’t want to play it safe throughout my life, gripping the beam, and then stand before the Judge of the Universe one day and hear, “Why’d you play it safe, Steve? How come you never took any risks for me? Didn’t you realize I would have been right there beside you in all those opportunities you were too scared to embrace?”

Following in the footsteps of Jesus is the essence of what it means to be a Christian—a disciple of Christ. Just as Christ was willing to bring light, life, love, hope, and forgiveness to his creation, so Christians today are called to step out in faith, follow Him, and deliver the same message to a world in desperate need of a savior.   

Will we answer the call? 

Will we assume risk and be willing to bring light to dark and difficult places?

Will we be the feet of Jesus?

I had the opportunity this week to solo caregive my 3-month-old grandson, Chapman. Over the course of four days—36 hours—my primary jobs were to keep him alive and empty the smoldering diaper bin before the neighbors complained. My wife and I took over this role two weeks ago, but with her out of town on family business, I was flying solo. I had some dated experience, of course, having raised two sons of my own. But Janet did much of the heavy lifting around the house then, while I was out saluting and such.

So, how’d it go? Spoiler alert: Chappie survived the week. I thank God for that! But the week was about more than just survival. I learned some things.

I’m a nerd. Many of you already know that. I kept copious notes, not because Kyle and Laci asked me to but because there was data to be captured. I feared a tricky end-of-day question like, “Did you feed him?” and not being able to come up with a good answer. So, I took notes. I was exceedingly careful, like when Janet asks for my opinion on a new outfit. The tale of the tape? I’m glad you asked!20 full or partial feedings, totaling 58 ounces of formula14 diaper changes—11 wet and 3 nasty (“Chernobyl”, “Fukushima”, and “The View”)14 naps, ranging from 10 to 80 minutes (and those were just mine!)15+ periods of “playtime” – exercising, tummy time, coddling, bouncy chair, listening to Steely Dan, etc.1 new song learned—“If you’re Chappie and you know it…”1 meltdown, 10 minute duration2 stroller rides to apartment lobby (on one, a roaming woman with dementia referred to him as “she” three times!)1 penile spray, soaking my right hand, his clothes, and the changing table; followed by a giggle. Well played, Chappie, well played.

2. I am in love with this kid! Chappie and I bonded. There is something about caring for a little one that brings you closer—makes you vested. An infant is totally dependent on you for everything—high stakes. I didn’t think I could love Chappie any more than I did on Monday, but I do. It’s like putting your heart and soul into restoring an old car. The more effort involved, the fonder you become of the ever-evolving, growing product. Chappie and I (not unlike his brother Bradford and I) are buds now. I will be unequivocally in his corner for life.

3. I have profound respect for single parents and others who fly solo as caregivers. I got breaks at night. Some caregivers don’t. Janet and I have our Saturdays-Mondays mostly off. Some caregivers don’t. I only had one child to keep up with. Some have multiple. I received positive feedback from Chappie’s parents and from Chappie himself. The big smiles. The cooing when I laid him on my chest. Not all caregivers get “positive feedback” from the ones they care for. You may care for a special needs child who is unable to communicate appreciation or for a parent who doesn’t recognize you anymore. You may never get a “thank you” or even a smile. Kudos to you folks! God sees and loves everything you do! Don’t give up! I have a newfound respect and appreciation for you.

4. I used to think of a grandparent’s love as something that gets “divided” amongst their grandchildren. Like if you have four grands, they each get a quarter of your heart. I was so wrong about that. A grandparent’s heart doesn’t divide; it multiplies! I didn’t think it was possible to love any child as much as I love my first grandchild, Bradford. That kid is special! His love for animals, especially ducks. The way he puts his hands behind his back when he runs. The way he gorges on scrambled eggs and clings to his mom when she comes home from work. The way he calls me “Bob” because he can’t quite pronounce “Papa Fob”. Then Chappie comes along and, miraculously, my heart has doubled in size! I’m not dividing anything. I’m multiplying. I’m somehow growing capacity. And guess what? Sometime in the next week or so Janet and I will drive to North Carolina for the birth of our third grandchild and first granddaughter! What a blessing! As Rachel’s belly shrinks, my heart will be growing—bursting at the seams. Multiplying, not dividing. More family. More memories to be made. More love. More capacity.

Maybe even a little glimpse at the kind of love God has for us.