Divine Examination Psalm 139:1-6

O Lord, you have searched me
and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue,
O Lord, you know it completely.
You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is so high that I cannot attain it.

The 19th-century French contemplative Therese of Lisieux said: "Our faults cannot hurt God. Nor will our failures interfere with our own holiness, for genuine holiness is precisely a matter of enduring our own imperfections patiently."

Hmm, I always thought that holiness was the absence of sin. The more perfect in thought and behavior you could be, the holier you were. Perhaps, as Therese suggests, holiness is not the pursuit of perfection but rather a matter of bearing with yourself, even the more distasteful parts of yourself, your sin.

First though, awareness is necessary. This patient enduring can only be accomplished by those who are aware of their imperfections. Holiness requires self-honesty. You can't sit patiently with that which you deny exists. Simple enough. But really, who wants to sincerely probe the dark recesses? Self-examination is difficult work. As distasteful as it sounds though, self-examination is much more tolerable than being examined by another.

The psalmist, in Psalm 139, speaks of being searched, or examined, by God. Read through those six verses. Do they make you feel comfortable or uncomfortable?

If Jesus Came to Dinner--Luke 14:1-14

Jesus went to dinner at the house of a Pharisee and "when he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by the host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, 'give this person your place,' then in disgrace you would have to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, 'Friend, move up higher;' then you will be honored in the presence of all those who sit at table with you."

If you threw a dinner party and invited Jesus, where would you set him? Next to your loquacious but boring aunt? Between your two nihilist cousins? Would you leave it up to him to choose his place at the table? Wherever he sat, you can be sure he would have stirred things up, probably offending you and your other dinner guests.

It is hard for us to imagine how his words here can have any more impact than some advice on etiquette by Miss Manners. The words "disgrace" and "honor" should clue us in that he is speaking a language that was more meaningful for the people of his day than for us. All of relational life revolved around avoiding shame and gaining honor. How you were held in the community's regard meant everything.

How does this text speak to you? In what way might God be calling you to the lowest place?

Family Values?

Luke 12:49-52

I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! But I have a baptism to undergo and how distressed I am until it is completed! Do you think I came to bring peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but division. From now on there will be five in a family divided against each other, three against two and two against three.

This is one of Jesus' "hard" sayings. It seems to go against the healthy relationships other scriptures call us to. Jesus seems to be saying that even our closest, most stable relationships are affected, not always positively, by his coming.

The fire Jesus is referring to is the kingdom of God. Jesus was convinced that in his own person and mission a new phase in God's plan for the world was beginning. The kingdom of God was coming.

In view of this, Jesus doesn't diminish the importance of the family but instead points to the primacy of following Jesus. Even our most valued attachment's take a secondary place to the call of God on our lives. Jesus wasn't promoting strained relationships; he was saying that sometimes divisions are inevitable for disciples.

So Jesus came to bring fire. Where is the fire in you, that fire of purpose that launches you outside yourself and your piddly needs to a larger, more meaningful existence in God's kingdom? The fire of calling. The fire of following that call. Has the fire been smothered by other concerns? Time to consider anew God's destiny for us.