Douglas Young

What could have made John the Baptist question the Messiahship of Jesus? Something was at work, but what was it? I believe the answer lies within Matthew 11:6: “And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”

The key word is “offended.” Contextually, it is clear to me that Jesus is speaking of John, here. But why would John be offended by Jesus? The to this question is elsewhere.

John had some sharp opinions about Jesus that were expressed through his preaching ministry. In the following passage, I’ve emboldened some words and phrases that give indication to John’s perceptions about the ministry of Jesus.

Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree that does not bear fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. I baptize you with water for repentance, but he who is coming after me…He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into the barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.

(Matthew 3:10-12).

John was speaking to Pharisees and Sadducees who’d come to him. “Even now” seems to suggest that the judgment of which he speaks, he believes to be imminen, and that the Pharisees would not escape it. His conception of Jesus’ ministry is that he would be carrying his “winnowing fork,” chucking people into everlasting and unquenchable fire. But was this so?

The story of Jesus and Nicodemus (John 3) casts Jesus in a much different light than  what John the Baptist preached. Jesus is conversing with a Pharisee- not just a Pharisee, but a ruler of the Pharisees- yet Jesus says nothing about judgment, being cut down or unquenchable fire. He simply says, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God” (v. 3). I don’t sense, at all, that Jesus is trying to scare him. In fact, he goes out of his way to not scare him.

It is easy to forget that the words of John 3:16 were offered, still, in the context of Jesus and Nicodemus. But they were. I’m inclined, though, to think that verse 17 is more profound than verse 16, especially, given expectations about Jesus during his earthly ministry. Brace yourself here…“For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

John believed Jesus was coming to the world to condemn it, but Jesus, essentially, said: “No, that is not why the Father sent me.” In fact, he stated in no uncertain terms that he didn’t come to condemn the world! The conclusion: John had expectations of Jesus that Jesus didn’t live up to! That is why, I believe, John has reservations about Jesus.

Did Jesus recognize this? I think so. I’m convinced that this is why Jesus said to John’s messengers, “And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.” John was offended that Jesus didn’t live up to his expectations. So he question him.

John fell into the trap of doing what so many of us do…casting Jesus in our own light instead of seeing him for who he really is. If you see Jesus as American, Republican, and/or White, you are guilty of making Jesus into who you want him to be. The inevitable conclusion will be that you will formulate expectations of him that he’ll never live up to. In the end, you’ll be let down.

John’s doubts weren’t the end of him. He died a martyr’s death as a kingdom servant. Our questions aren’t the end of us, either. They are crucial to our development. Jesus could handle John’s question and he can handle ours, as well. He didn’t get mad at John for asking, nor will he be upset with us. Our questions are opportunities to grow and he will show us what we need to see and give us what we need.

“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him” (James 1:5).

“There’s no such thing as a stupid question!”

We’ve been told this is true but many of us are not compelled to believe it. And it’s not that we don’t believe the statement, in principle, to be true. We just don’t believe that those who often utter these words always mean it. I’m not convinced we should, either.

Ask a few questions and you’ll get vilified. Put some things to the test (1 Thess. 5:21) and you’ll quickly assume a label you didn’t ask for. Why? Because you asked a few questions?

For those of you who’ve got some questions but haven’t asked them because you’ve come to believe that asking them comes with a price, I want to remind you of John the Baptist. On one occasion, he asked a question of utmost importance. To be honest, I can’t believe he asked it at all. But he did, and my consideration of the question he asked has helped me over the years. I hope it helps you, too.

John is in prison. He’s literally going to lose his head. So he sends messengers to Jesus to ask… “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” (Matthew 11:3). This wasn’t a harmless question. It was a question upon which everything that would come would hinge. We might ask it like this…”Are you really the Christ?”

Now remember, John is blood kin to Jesus. They are cousins. John’s time in his mother’s womb bore supernatural distinction. John is foreshadowed in the Old Testament scriptures (Isaiah 40; Malachi 3 & 4). He even baptized Jesus (Matthew 3). John the Baptist is no small player in the scheme of things. But in prison, amid the doom and gloom of what was before him, he doubts.

And it was John who was doubting, not his messengers. I’ve found some who’ve given treatment to this story who found it inconceivable that John would possess such doubts, so they surmised that John is not one with the questions, but rather the messengers are the uncertain ones. Jesus eliminates this possibility when he sends them back, encouraging them to “Go and tell John what you hear and see” (Matthew 11:4).

Given his role, and who he is, how could he ask such a question?

It must have infuriated Jesus, right? Nope. Not one bit. And that is what makes me marvel.

I know some people who if they were in Jesus’ shoes would have responded….

Who’ve you been listening to?

Who’ve you been reading?

John has fallen off the deep end. Mark him and stay with us.

But Jesus says none of that! He says, “Go and tell John what you hear and see.” This is an effort to affirm and shore him up, not write him off. And that is the difference between Jesus and a lot of people today!

In fact, Jesus actually does the unthinkable when the messengers leave. In verses 8ff, Jesus actually commends John for who he is and what he has done. Wow.

You may have some questions for which you are searching for an answer. It’s OK. Before God, you’ll not get crucified for asking them. But before you ask them, think about who you are asking. Find someone you trust. Find someone with the heart of love. Find someone who deals with the things that matter most. But ask the questions. You are doing yourself any good by not asking them. God can take them. He’s been doing it for a long time.

Later this week, I am going to posit some thoughts about why John the Baptist was in doubt. I’ll focus on Matthew 11:6. John does something that a lot of us have done.

Thanks for reading!

Earlier this week I heard a missionary tell of his work in Africa. I loved listening to him and I think he does amazing work. He repeatedly brought up, though, how Americans were being targeted, kidnapped and held hostage in nearby areas, but American churches were paying large sums of money to buy their release. I remember thinking, “Hmmm. Isn’t that just fueling the fire, enabling groups to do more of the same?” But that’s another subject, maybe, for another time.

It got me to thinking, though, about the inherent dangers involved in mission work. Missionaries know that there is serious danger in that kind of work. To a large extent, that is exactly why I appreciate them. But the know the dangers are more than hypothetical, they are real, and yet still they go. But what should happen when the unthinkable actually happens?

If we will think about it, danger lurks around every corner, hides in virtually every crevass, and can happen anywhere. Danger can found on the Mexico border, in the African village, as well as on the suburban street corner. There is no escaping it. You can try, but it will be to no avail!

I don’t believe Jesus launched his mission into world so that we might play it safe. What we refer to as The Great Commission (Matthew 28:18-20) wasn’t a proposition to simply take the gospel to places where we’d be sheltered from harm. There was no caveat which stated: “Go into all the world..except for the high risk places.” After all, there really is no 100% safe place. Evil is everywhere and harm is indiscriminate about where it will emerge. If we only played it safe, we’d go nowhere. But for some reason, I don’t think, in our heart of hearts, we believe that’s the right thing to do.

Think about it…Daniel lived for God in the middle of a Babylonian firestorm of danger. He was in a foreign land, and yet he was open about his faith and devotion to God, even if it meant a front row seat a lion’s den or a fiery furnace. I know he was taken into captivity by force, but that didn’t change how he acted while there. It was in those situations that Daniel’s faith was exhibited, regardless of what would befall him. How comfortable would we feel telling Daniel our stories about how we didn’t go to the risky places because it was dangerous? Not me.

And then there’s Stephen in Acts 7. That guy was nuts to preach that kind of message, to that group of people, in that kind of place. Didn’t he know it might get him killed? Didn’t he know that he might better serve the cause of Christ by going on his way and finding a people to preach to who wouldn’t start chucking rocks at him? After all, he might die of such treatment. Err…he did die. But Stephen was outright foolish to do what he did, wasn’t he? But again, doesn’t it sound odd to suggest such? It does to me. After all, we extol martyrs. He loved the Lord and was willing to die for him.  We are supposed to be “faithful” even if it might cost us our lives (Rev. 2:10). But what does it say about us if we only go where it is advantageous to us?

1 In the first book, O Theophilus, I have dealt with all that Jesus began to do and teach, 2 until the day when he was taken up, after he had given commands through the Holy Spirit to the apostles whom he had chosen. 3 He presented himself alive to them after his suffering by many proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God.

Acts 1:1-3, ESV

According to Luke 1:1, many sought to provide a narrative of the life of Jesus. The penman of the book that bears his name saw himself as one of many. The penmanship of the Gospel of Luke is attributed to him because of the certainty by which it is believed he penned Acts. If he wrote Acts to Theophilus as a continuation of “the first book,” then he would be responsible for Luke as well. I don’t deny this.

Luke traveled with Paul. He was a physician (Col. 4:14) and the only Gentile penman for the New Testament. I don’t know why, but the work of Luke through divine inspiration appeals to me. There’s something about his life that appeals to me.

Despite his not having been the visible, eyewitness to Jesus that others were, he still was a man of incredible faith in Jesus. This is attested to by the prologues of the books he penned (Luke 1 and Acts 1).

Consider the certainty with which he writes Theophilus. No hesitation. No couching his words with: “I think…” or “It’s my opinion…” There is no question in his mind. “He presented himself alive to them after his suffering by many proofs, appearing to them forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God.” His is a strong affirmation, as strong an affirmation as there is without belaboring the point, of the gospel of Jesus Christ (1 Cor. 15:1-4) and his faith in it.

These first three verses are a strong statement, a testament of faith that echoes through 2000 years of history right to our hearts. Nothing can quench the echo; no one and no thing can stop its reverberation.

The testament of faith lies in the ability to see with the heart’s eyes (Eph. 1:18).  That’s how Luke saw. I love how Peter, one who spent three years in intimate connection with Jesus, writes to those who weren’t afforded his privilege: “Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory” (1 Peter 1:8, ESV). Peter saw Jesus’ life with his physical eyes and was impacted. Others see his life through spiritual eyes and are no less impacted.

We, too, are able to stand with Luke in firm conviction. Being lost in Jesus makes it possible. I need not see him in the flesh. I need not have a vision that takes me into the 3^rd heaven to believe. I believe because I sense his presence on the inside, giving me the fullness of God (Ephesians 3: 17-19), and no one can take that away.

I’m convinced Christ is looking for my life to converge with his (Colossians 3:3-4), but I’m not necessarily certain about the “hows” of this process. I do know that the transformation process itself, though, isn’t totally a self-help project. He is at work, doing something to facilitate “being transformed into the same image from glory to glory.” I know this because “this is from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

It’s time I get lost; I need to get lost in him. “For you have died, and your life is hidden with the Messiah in God” (Colossians 3:3, HCSB).

This blog really hasn’t been about a guy “converging with Christ…” I’d like to think that it was, but it’s just not so. But all of that is about to change.

For a number of reasons, some of which are deeply personal, I’ve decided to journal on a daily basis. I want to chronicle my own conscientious effort to take my faith in Jesus seriously and get lost in him. I believe it will happen, and I plan to journal about it.

I’d love for you to join me. Let’s get lost together!

It was the first time I’d ever invited someone I didn’t know into my home to stay the night. In the past, I would never have done such a thing. Too foolish. Way too foolish in my book. But one day, a homeless man walking from Oklahoma to Fort Worth and I crossed paths that forever changed me. Not long thereafter, I found my mind centering and redirecting itself, seemingly all of the time mind you, on Hebrews 13:2. For whatever reason, I haven’t been the same since. I’ve got no desire whatsoever to stereotype people anymore. In the end, I believe it to be the working of God in my life in one of the most concrete ways I’ve ever experienced. It’s God’s gift.

So when I got an email from Jon Riddle, a brother in Dimmit, TX whom I’ve never met, only spoken to on the phone once, informing me of a young man named Colin Morrison who was walking, yes, walking from Maine to California, I was instantly intrigued. I was told he would be arriving in Clovis on Wednesday afternoon. Sure enough, at 3 pm he walked into the church building. He was greeted by our secretary. Curious, I believe she asked, “Can we help you?” Colin’s response, if my memory is correct, was, “I’m looking for the preacher. I forgot his name though.”

My door was open, so I could see Delores speaking with someone in our greeting area outside the offices. I assumed it was Colin, so I walked out to meet him. We went back to my office, and though wearied from his journey, he told me what he was doing. In May, Colin hopped a bus from Ohio, where he grew up, to Portland, Maine. He left Portland and began walking. On October 28th, he was with me in Clovis, NM.

He stayed the night with us that Wednesday night. He had dinner with us. He went to bible class with us as well.

There’s an amazing aspect to this story that is particularly fitting here. Colin has coordinated his travels so that he is always in a town on Sundays and Wednesdays. He has missed worship services with a local Church of Christ only three times since he began walking, and that wasn’t because he didn’t get to a congregation. He was there, but the congregation, for whatever reason, wasn’t gathering. But he was still there. That’s impressive!

My kids loved Colin. He played Wii with them. He wrestled with Reese. It was like he was family. But wait a minute, he actually was. He was a brother in Christ, doing an unbelievable thing, all because he could. The next day, we had a great lunch together at Fat Boys BBQ. He spent time with me at the office, as he mapped out his journey through the rest of New Mexico. Tisha’s family was coming in that Thursday to spend the weekend with us, so we put Colin in a local hotel room for Thursday evening. The next morning, he resumed his adventure.

Colin has been chronicling his adventure on his blog. I encourage you to read about him. Post a comment to encourage him. Colin is an amazing young man, and my family was fortunate to be able to meet him. Most importantly, it was a wonderful opportunity for us to be able to live out Hebrews 13:2.

Colin, you are in our prayers my friend. Thank you for gracing us with your presence.

The dream goes something like this…

I’m standing in front of four doors. Only one is the correct door that will lead me to the place I need to go. The other three open into a deep, dark chasm, a lot like Tolkien’s Khazad-dum. I’ve only got one opportunity, and there’s a 75% chance of picking the wrong door. There’s no peeking either. Once I open it, I’m thrust through the doorway, either plunging headlong into darkness or into whatever place or situation is right.

This is a dream I tend to have when I find myself in my own “valley of decision”  (Joel 3:14). It’s terribly frustrating, because in the end I’m often left with more questions about what’s before me. Invariably, I cannot escape the desire to constantly doubt. What if I make the wrong decision?

Last week, having lunch with friend, I was reminded that regardless of our choices, God is behind every door. It’s true. God can make good of whatever decision I make. The list of biblical figures who prove this is too great!

Before us all are a myriad of choices. Some impact us less than others. But everyday we make them nonetheless. Some days we’ve got big choices to make. Do you leave a job for another? Do you move your family across the globe to become a missionary? Big and small, the choices are always before us. We pray asking for guidance so that we don’t make the wrong decision. Is there really a wrong decision to me made?

Naturally, and it pains me to have to qualify this but I know how some think, I’m not talking about decisions that involve sin. We shouldn’t choose that door anyhow. Even if we do, though, God can rescue us.

So my point is…God isn’t just behind one door, hoping we make the right decision. He’s behind every door, waiting, regardless of the choice, to turn into something whereby he is glorified. “And we know that for whose who love God, all things work together for the good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

God finds ways to work things out for us! For those of you who are confronted with doors to open, but you are uncertain as to which one is the right one…trust in the One who redeemed you and He’ll be behind whichever door you choose.

It’s time to move forward. As God told Moses and the Israelites at Horeb, “You have stayed at this mountain long enough. Resume your journey…” (Deuteronomy 1:6-7, HCSB), so also is it time to move on and away from what’s gone on here for the last several days.

This morning I was reading through Acts 6 and I was struck by the life of Stephen. He was one of the “seven men of good reputation, full of the Spirit and wisdom” selected to tend to the Grecian widows who’d been neglected in the daily distribution. He was also described as “full of faith” (v. 5). Still later, we read of Stephen as “full of grace and power…performing great wonders and signs among the people” (v. 8). He met formidable opposition from those of the Freedman’s Synagogue, but “they were not able to stand up against the wisdom and the Spirit by which he spoke” (v. 10). Ultimately, his history lesson of Israel’s rejections of God’s prophets over the years, which culminated in the rejection of the Messiah, got him killed. But what a compelling argument he was for the faith of Christ!

The guy chosen to “wait on tables” (v. 2) apparently had much more to offer. And he did. Inside of him was a heart for souls. His ministry was about meeting the needs of others. If by food distribution, so be it. He offered food that met physical needs, but he was also willing to serve food “that lasts for eternal life” (John 6:27).

Service, in whatever form, is mighty ministry. Jesus boldly proclaimed the “living word” with passion and urgency; yet, washing his disciples’s feet was no less ministry, and no less significant.

Like Jesus, Stephen wasn’t a one talent man. His selection for a specific work didn’t mean he wasn’t fit for anything else. In a sense, I think it helped groom him for more. Unfortunately, it seems to have been a life cut short, but like others who have gone on before, “though he is dead, he still speaks” (Hebrews 11:4).

Context

In late 2004 or early 2005, Tisha had heard through her sister Tara Matson about a Dallas couple, Jon and Tami Gappa, who discovered their infant son Sam had been diagnosed with cancer. The end result of a surgery to remove the tumor was that his kidneys would never regain function. For the next three-plus years, little Sam would be dialysis dependent.

Naturally, a kidney transplant was essential. When pursuing “living donors,” the Gappas soon discovered that due to blood issues neither of them were viable donor options. Tisha’s sister sent out an email to friends in her address book inquiring as to whether or not they would be interested in testing to see if they might be a viable match. I remember Tisha asking me if I cared if she was tested. Thinking nothing about it, I said “Sure.” We weren’t related to the family in any way. We didn’t even know them. The odds definitely weren’t in her favor.

Matches for kidney transplants are based on a series of six markers. Normally, a good parental match will have three of six markers. According to the test results, Tisha had four of six markers. Tisha was by far the best candidate and now things were getting serious. Very serious.

Naturally, there was some hesitancy. Amazingly enough, it wasn’t so much about the health concerns on Tisha’s part as it was about things like ramifications on health and life insurances. How would one less kidney affect our ability to possibly change health insurance or lock in another 20-year term life policy? These were our concerns. But when we thought about it, we realized that they weren’t things that ultimately mattered when compared with what the Gappas had to lose. We thought about what it would be like if we lost Reese, who is the same age as Sam. Tisha was convinced that we must move forward with the process.

There were two other significant concerns as well. We worried about how the possible rejection of Tisha’s kidney by Sam might affect us. It was beyond our control, but it nevertheless was a feeling that we considered grave. But the feeling that would come over us, should Tisha back out, was much worse.

The other concern was what others were thinking about what Tisha was doing. Tisha had a husband and three kids, and there were more than a few who let us know that they thought the transplant was unwise. That was painful. Thankfully, faith got us both through, but we were still concerned about what people were suggesting.

It took a while for things to develop, but finally a surgery was planned for April of 2007 at Lucille Packard in Palo Alto, CA. Two weeks before the transplant, though, it was called off due to concerns about recurring cancer in Sam. Later in early 2008, Sam would endure another surgery to resolve the cancer predicament. He recovered quickly and in August of 2008, we all flew to California where Tisha gave one of her kidneys to 4 year-old, Sam Gappa.

Both recovered quickly. Tisha was out of the hospital in four days. Sam actually came home from California about a month earlier than he was supposed to. To this day, both are doing extremely well. Sam is growing and doing things that before he wasn’t allowed to do.

Jon Gappa preserves the whole story, from September of 2004 through March of 2009, in an online journal at http://www.caringbridge.org/tx/samgappa/history.htm.

Dear Sam, Jon and Tami,

Of late, I’ve been writing letters once a week to those who mean the most to me. I don’t even know if you guys read my blog, but all of them thus far are there. From the beginning, my intentions were to save my last two letters for you guys and Tisha. This is my second to the last letter, my letter to you.

First, We love you more than words can describe. You aren’t just friends to us, you are family. The joys you’ve brought to our lives have no corresponding words. Awe, in so many forms, is all that can be produced.

Second, I believe the kind of hell you’ve been through for the last five years would ruin an average family. I’ve grown to discover that experiences, many of which are less taxing than yours has been, do often deconstruct the family unit. I’ve actually seen homes crumble due to much less than what you guys have gone through. But you’ve all been amazingly and immensely resilient. You’ve got courage unlike any three people I’ve ever met.

Third, to a great extent, through you, we’ve found ourselves. Tisha now knows how much faith she has in God. As I know you’ve come to believe, her part in Sam’s story was a faith thing. In the past, we believed that faith was just a “head thing,” all the while knowing that’s its much more than that. Faith is lived out through action that reflects the nature of one’s faith (James 2). She believes that giving up her kidney for Sam was her way of doing her part in God’s kingdom.

You see, we believe in discipleship (Matthew 28:18-20), and discipleship is about doing what the Messiah did. His gravest concern was for others. Ultimately, he gave his life so that we wouldn’t have to.

We aren’t perfect and we are still learning, but fortunately discipleship is an ongoing process. To Tisha, if he could lay down his life, she could part with a kidney. Her conviction was that God would see her through it. And he did.

Our families will never be the same. Nor should they be. Please tell “Little Genius” that “Uncle Dough Dough” is stronger today because of him. I hope that because of the influence you’ve had on me, that I too am becoming a much better father. We love you and always will!

Doug

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