Vending Machine Jesus

Mike Leake

victoriano-izquierdo-JG35CpZLfVs-unsplashGod isn’t a genie. He’s not some passive deity who responds to our every whim—dispensing answers to our deepest wishes. He’s not a cosmic vending machine where we put in our quarters, hit the correct button, and then enjoy the soda or candy bar we purchased.

I carry that theology with me into Mark 5.

Jairus, he’s my dude. He does it correctly. He has a desperate need, he makes a passionate request, falling at his needs and imploring Jesus to act. That’s not treating Jesus like a vending machine. It’s treating Him like the sovereign He is.

And Jesus, no doubt impressed by this dude’s faith and respect, goes along with Jairus to provide healing for his daughter. But he’s interrupted by this great crowd.

Mark stops his story about Jairus to tell us about one of those in the crowd. It’s a woman who is as desperate as Jairus. But that’s about all they have in common. They are on different ends of the social, religious, and economic ladder. Jairus is a powerful dude. She’s simply “a woman”…a woman that is ritually unclean, filled with shame, slinking in the shadows, and flat broke with a massive pile of medical bills.

The Bleeding Woman’s Theology

What she does next shows how sharply her theology diverges from mine. Mark tells us that she comes up behind him (a sneak attack) and touched his garment. And then Mark exposes her horrible theology, “If I touch even his garments, I will be made well.”

That’s magical and superstitious thinking. Vending machine theology. She has Jesus in an entirely passive role. She doesn’t care about relationship. She isn’t even acknowledging him. Her love of Jesus seems about as profound as my love for the outlet I found when my phone’s batter is at 1%. It’s entirely transactional.

But it works. I’m not sure why Mark tells us this. It’d be much better for my theology if she’d have come up empty. “God isn’t some impersonal force you can tap into, lady! If you want help from Jesus take the path of Jairus.” But Mark doesn’t seem to care about my theological assumptions.

Jesus stops and begins this passionate pursuit for who touched Him. I’m glad that He seems a bit more concerned about my theology than sloppy Mark. He’s certainly seeking her out to rebuke her. She “stole” a blessing. She hopped the fence. She didn’t do things the right way.

Jesus doesn’t have to search for long. The woman comes up before Jesus, falls down before him, and tells the whole truth. Good for her.

I’m grabbing my popcorn now. Waiting to hear Jesus’ theology lesson. Maybe point to Jairus as an example of how we approach the living God.

*crickets*

What Are You Doing Mark?

Sometimes Scripture speaks loudly by what it doesn’t say. There is no rebuke. In fact, there is vindication. He doesn’t say to her, “My power has made you well.” What are you doing, Mark!?!?!?

Jesus’ power calms the storm.

Jesus’ power calms the ravaged mind of the Gerasene demoniac.

Jesus’ power will raise Jarius’ daughter from the dead.

Daughter’s faith makes her well.

He’s vindicating her. I appreciate these words of Charles Powell:

This is the only woman whom Jesus addressed directly as “Daughter.” This endearing address suggests that Jesus accepted her as she was, in spite of what she had done. Jesus received this impure but courageous woman and made her feel special. In the presence of the crowd He announced that it was her faith that had saved her. [Charles E. Powell, “The ‘Passivity’ of Jesus in Mark 5:25–34,” Bibliotheca Sacra 162 (2005): 74.]

Conclusion

This little story makes a wreck of my theological assumptions. Now, don’t get me wrong. They aren’t entirely wrong. Jesus’ having sought her out is significant. It shows us that He’s more concerned with relationship than a transactional healing. He’s not a distant and detached Savior. As James Edwards as said, “Discipleship is not simply getting our needs met; it is being in the presence of Jesus, being known by him, and following him.” (Edwards, Mark, 165). Daughter needed to learn this lesson, as we all do.

But there is a desperation here that we need to embrace. There is a boldness to grabbing ahold of Jesus. And there is also a beauty in the fact that Jesus doesn’t rebuke this but actually encourages it. Sure, it doesn’t fit neatly into my theological assumptions. But we absolutely must make room for this faith. We must let Mark do what he is doing here.

He is highlighting this woman’s faith, a faith that seems to edge on vending machine faith, but one that is desperate and sees in Jesus at least a possible answer for what plagues her.

—

Photo source: here

Why’d The Pigs Have to Die?

Mike Leake

pascal-debrunner-b-zyMn_e_R4-unsplashOne of my favorite stories in the Bible is the story of Jesus healing the Gerasene demoniac. It’s a beautiful picture of Jesus’ redemption. (See here)

But there is one question that always comes up with this story. It centers around Mark 5:13. Jesus casts the legion of demons out of the man, and they beg to be thrown into pigs. Here is what happens as a result:

“So he gave them permission. And the unclean spirits came out and entered the pigs; and the herd, numbering about two thousand, rushed down the steep bank into the sea and drowned in the sea.”

Why’d the pigs have to die? Doesn’t that seem a bit unnecessary to the story? Is it not cruel? And what about these farmers whose livelihood is now impacted by losing 2000 pigs?

I’ll offer an answer to that today. First, we have to see that this is meant to tell us something about the demonic.

What Does This Tell Us About Demons?

Mark sets this story right after Jesus calms the chaotic sea. Who is this man that he can bring calm to the meteorological chaos? How can He speak and calm the raging sea? Who is this guy?

And then Jesus steps onto the shore and is immediately met with more chaos. This time it isn’t the chaotic sea, it’s the chaos of a mind broken by demon possession. We see woven throughout this text that demons are destructive. They are also unbounded. Just as humanity seemed paralyzed at the raging sea, so now they are just as impotent against the unbridled power of the brokenness in this man.

What, then, do you think is going to happen to pigs if they are demon-possessed? Chaos. What happens when our enemy gets his way is chaos and destruction with the aim at dethroning God and destroying us. That is what God, through Mark, wants us to see here.

But it also tells us something about Jesus. When we see the previously broken man now clothed and in his right mind, it shows the power of Jesus. There was always a human in there somewhere. Some how the image of God remained—and Jesus threw back the chaos and pulled out the imago Dei.

It tells us about the beauty of redemption. But it also paints another picture as well.

What Does This Tell Us About Redemption? ‌

It’s not only the demonic that can be destructive. Redemption can also be destructive.

It might help us to think about Luke here. He tells this story right after his parable of the soils. Consider the soils. What would need to happen for the seed to take root on the path? You’d have to plow it up. Hard hearts need broken up. You think that isn’t going to hurt? You think that isn’t going to bring some change and some tough questions. You better believe it will. The same is true with rock removal and eliminating a thorn bush. That’s going to be painful. It’s going to require sacrifice.

Why, then, does Mark tell us about the farmers response? Why not just let that little fact from history be buried? It’d be easier to just leave these at some random pigs. But Mark highlights the fear of the townspeople. Why?

It’s to highly a sad and painful aspect of the story. The townspeople are afraid of Jesus’ power. They are afraid of what it would mean and all that they might lose if they follow Jesus. Jesus is a farm wrecker. He’ll destroy your livelihood and kill your pigs.

That’s what the townspeople had to wrestle with. Those are the bare facts here. They see a guy who was so broken and so destructive that they had to treat him even lower than a pig. And now they see him clothed and in his right mind.

But his redemption was costly.

Is it worth it?

Is it more important for Jesus to be rescuing and restoring humanity and booting out all sin and unbelief of the kingdom OR your farm, economic prosperity, etc.? Do you want your thorn bush or the kingdom of God?

If they see the value in Jesus, they’ll invite him to stay. Burn it all to the ground, if you must! Whatever isn’t of the kingdom, then throw it over the cliffs. Tear down all that we’ve built with our hands. And rebuild it all for your glory.

The Holy Spirit, through His servant Mark, wants to confront us with that question. Would you boot Jesus out of your town? ‌

Why’d the pigs have to die? Because that’s what the demonic does. And we need to know that. Humanity cast our lot with darkness and this is part of the consequence. We also need to know and see that redemption is costly. And we need to be pressed into those painful decisions. What’s more valuable? A pig farm or redemption?

What will you do with Jesus today?

—

Photo source: here

‌

Is It Okay To Be Anxious, If I know Suffering Is Coming?

Mike Leake

tonik-U0wwiY6nRGA-unsplashThere’s a sermon illustration that I love. I think it first came from Randy Alcorn. It involves intricate marching bands. You ever see those? The marching band comes together and looks like a giant football player kicking a field goal. (Here is an example).

They are super awesome. But I bet they don’t look so cool when you’re on the field and view things from that perspective. When we view things from the ground instead of the grandstand we often miss the beauty and brilliance of what is going on. The same is true of life.

If you can see the whole picture, or know the end of the story, then it creates a bit of calm for us today. I think about this illustration as I’m preaching through Daniel. I’m convinced that those visions are given to the prophet in order to provide a bit of comfort as they go through exile. I suppose its a similar thought which leads Iain Duguid in his commentary to say about Daniel 7:

After all, the purpose of the passage is not to give us nightmares but to calm our nightmares. The focus of Daniel 7 is rather on the coming day of divine judgment, when these monsters will finally receive justice and God will win the final victory. (Duguid, Daniel REC, 112)

We know the end of the story. Jesus wins. God reigns, not whatever scary monster we are facing. Relax. No panic. No alarm. Don’t be anxious about the days ahead.

One Problem

As I was preaching through Daniel 7 last week that is the path that I wanted to take. But I couldn’t do it, not entirely. There was just one sticky little problem. Daniel 7:28,

Here is the end of the matter. As for me, Daniel, my thoughts greatly alarmed me, and my color changed, but I kept the matter in my heart.

If what is supposed to happen with Daniel 7 is to calm Daniel and the people, to move them from alarm to tranquility, then why doesn’t it happen? Why does he come to the end of the explanation and everything and still is color-changingly terrified?

It’s beautiful, really.

Daniel’s still alarmed because he’s a person just like you and I. And the Bible is realistic with the reality of human suffering. Scripture is more honest with human suffering than we like to be. It’s gritty. It’s gutsy. It’s honest.

Yes, the big picture of Daniel 7 is that God reigns. The Son of Man conquers. The Ancient of Days sits on the throne. But Daniel is still terrified. Why?

‌Because suffering hurts. The beast at times will be victorious. The world system will sink its teeth into you, chew you all up, and then spit you out. That hurts. When Daniel sees this—he doesn’t just see the victory parade. He sees all the suffering getting there.

How is this helpful?

Yes, it’s helpful to know the end of the story. I’ll still keep using quotes like this one from John Newton:

Suppose a man was going to New York to take possession of a large estate, and his [carriage] should break down a mile before he got to the city, which obliged him to walk the rest of the way; what a fool we should think him, if we saw him ringing his hands, and blubbering out all the remaining mile, “My [carriage] is broken! My [carriage] is broken!” (Memoirs of Newton, volume 1, page 107)

Yet, there is more to be said than what Newton is saying here. Part of following Jesus is learning to cast our anxieties upon Him (1 Peter 5:7). That means first acknowledging that we do have anxiety. It’s a natural response to the reality of suffering. It’s realistic.

If you’re walking through a field of hungry lions wearing a meat necklace—anxiety isn’t stupid, it’s a God-given reality. And what do you do as you walk through that field? You take that anxiety to the Lord. “I’m scared, Lord. I’m not sure what the future holds, Lord. This is painful, God.” That is authentic faith. 

It’s important to let Daniel’s remaining anxiety speak to us. God included it in his word for a reason. It’s a dual reminder. First, it’s a reminder that the Son of Man does conquer. The beast, the devouring lion, the little horn, every human kingdom will fall before the mighty King Jesus. Justice will be done. Righteousness will win the day.

And yet, it’s also a reminder that this victory comes through suffering. Real authentic, painful, soul-crushing suffering. And it’s not a lack of faith to sometimes quake at that reality. Daniel did. His alarm doesn’t negate his redemption, though. And that’s why even if we do grieve with Daniel, we grieve as those who have hope.

—

Photo source: here

Proverbs 4 Today

Mike Leake

proverbs4today.logoFor years I’ve read a chapter of Proverbs almost daily. If today is the 11th, that means I’ll read Proverbs 11. Not only reading Proverbs, but living out the wisdom found in Proverbs is life shaping.

Proverbs is incredibly practical. That’s awesome and helpful, but it also means the sheer practicality of it can encourage us to application without considering Christ. Just as with any text, to accurately read and apply the Proverbs they must be read with a Christ-centered lens.

I believe that reading the Proverbs daily—and reading them from a Christ-centered perspective—will be life-changing. To that end I am launching a new Substack called Proverbs4Today.

At Proverbs4Today we will send a Christ-centered devotional to your inbox every weekday. They will be short devotionals which encourage not only the reading of Proverbs but also relevant and engaging application.

You can sign up here.