THE LAWS OF GOD

Then the Lord said to him, "Now you Pharisees make the outside of the cup and dish clean, but your inward part is full of greed and wickedness.

(Luke 11:39 NKJV)

The Talmud , a collection of ancient rabbinic writings, relates the story of Rabbi Akiba, who was imprisoned. Rabbi Joshua brought him some water, but the guard spilled half of the container. There was too little water to both wash and drink, and Rabbi Akiba faced the possibility of death for lack of water if he chose to use the water for ceremonial washing. He reasoned, "He who eats with unwashed hands perpetuates a crime that ought to be punished by death. Better for me to die of thirst than to transgress the traditions of my ancestors!"

Jesus responded harshly to such reasoning: "You blind guides, who strain out a gnat and swallow a camel!" (Matthew 23:24). The Lord cautions that the weightier matters of the law (such as justice and mercy) are overlooked when attention focuses on strict observances of religious practices. This leads to a corresponding negligence of the eternal laws of God. Jesus told people to pay more attention to cleansing their hearts and not be like their leaders who cleanse only their hands.

The laws of God are liberating and protective. They are restrictive only when they protect us from the evil one. The rules of any institution should ensure the freedom of each individual to reach his or her God-given potential. They should serve as a guide so we don’t stray from our purpose, and they should protect us from those who abuse the system.

The principle that Jesus modeled could be stated as follows: If people are commanded to follow a traditional practice that makes life more difficult and no longer contributes to the purpose of the organization, then we must not participate as a matter of religious conscience. Jesus simply didn’t observe such traditions, and He defended His disciples for not observing them as well. (Neil Anderson)

Beautiful Places

by Ken Pierpont

A little over five years ago I met Woody Shoemaker. We were both
pastors. Most recently he had pastored in the Flint Hills in rural
Kansas. I had pastored in the lovely village of Fremont, Michigan.
Our families both had relocated to downtown Flint, Michigan to take
part in a ministry housed in a sixteen-story hotel. He headed up the
college program and I was the director of the building. 

While we were working together, Woody would stop by my office. I
would brew coffee and we would talk theology, discuss the ministry,
and compare notes. We enjoyed rich Christian fellowship. Our boys
were buddies. It was a great privilege, but it was an adjustment for
both of us. We both loved the outdoors and the hotel was in the heart
of the city. 

We both found ways to adjust. He would visit his home in Kansas from
time-to-time and ride his horses. I would get away to speak at camps
and churches around Michigan. When he was gone I would keep an eye
things for him. When I was gone he covered for me. When one of us
would leave we would sincerely wish the other a season of
refreshment. 

Once when Woody had been away for a few days, his number showed up on
my cell phone. When I answered there was noise on the line. It was the
wind blowing over the mouthpiece on his phone.

"Ken?"

"Hey Woody, how are you?"

"I couldn’t be better. I’m sitting on a knoll and I can see for miles
in every direction. I am on horseback. I have the wind in my face and
the sun on my back. I can get a little reception here and I wanted to
call and describe what I am doing."

"Hey, Woody. I couldn’t be happier for you. Everything is under
control here. Take your time. We’ll save some dirty jobs for when you
get back."

A few months later, traveling to a speaking engagement in west
Michigan I scheduled a day on the Leelanau Peninsula and an afternoon
hike out to Pyramid Point. The sky was clear, the lake was blue, and
the islands were emerald green in the fresh air of spring. I stood
high over the water and drank in the beauty. I called Woody and
described the scene before me. He rejoiced with me and assured me
that everything was under control. 

Woody and his wife Gail and Lois and I would go out to eat from
time-to-time. It was always lively, good, Christian fellowship when
we were together. If I had known what that last year and a half would
bring I would have gone out to eat with them more often. 

We went our separate ways, Woody back to Kansas by way of
Indianapolis, and Lois and I to a pastorate in Michigan. Gail got
sick last year with cancer and just a few months ago went to heaven.
She died gracefully, leaving a good testimony behind, a husband who
loved her, three sons and three daughters who are walking with the
Lord. The first thing I thought when I heard she had gone to be with
the Lord was "I wonder how she would describe it if she could call us
on the cell phone right now."

If she called I would want a full description and I would tell her
that we will all get together one day and continue our long-suspended
conversation.