Coronavirus Talk 12
Let us begin with an Our Father
To introduce tonight’s theme, I wanted first to say some more about the dynamic relationship between teacher and student and stress that even the best teaching will be frustrated if the learner chooses not to allow themselves to engage. For Jesus’ teaching to get through to us, we need to want to listen to him. For our part, this will involve openness, humility, and, above all, a quality of “coachability,” a willingness to be led, to submit to experience and discipline. It is this “coachability” that will allow us to truly “hear” Jesus freely and to allow his teaching to open for us the road to transformation of life. Becoming a new person does not happen, on any level in life, without this ability to trust. Certainly, without willingness, we will never be a disciple of Jesus, we will never be able to learn from him.
Last night, we looked at another of Jesus’ preferred methods of teaching: the parable; and we defined a parable as a simple story that is used to illustrate a moral or spiritual lesson. Then we distinguished between two types of parables: the window parable in which the listener is invited to use the story to look outward and the mirror parable which invites the listener to look inward, into their own heart and soul.
So tonight, we look at mirror parables which ask you: having heard the story, where do you find yourself in it? With which of the characters do you identify? Which of the characters do you feel empathy with or are you put off by? Which character do you want to be or hope you are? And, importantly, what have you learned about yourself from this story?
Here is a mirror parable in Luke 18; 9-14
Jesus spoke this parable to those who believed in their own self-righteousness while holding everyone else in contempt: “Two men went up to the temple to pray; one was a Pharisee, the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, with head unbowed, prayed in this fashion: ‘I give you thanks, O God, that I am not like the rest of men – grasping, crooked, adulterous – or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, I pay tithes on all I possess.’ The other man, however, kept his distance, not even daring to raise his eyes to heaven. All he did was beat his breast and say, ‘O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.’ Believe me, this man went home from the temple justified but the other did not. For everyone ho exalts himself will be humbled while he who humbles himself will be exalted. – Luke 18; 9-14
Jesus paints the two men in the story with a stark contrast. The Pharisee: imperious, entitled, arrogant, judgmental, someone who thinks he is better than everybody else. We all know someone who simply can’t help making everything about themselves, saying something like: “Oh, but enough about me, let us talk about you! What do you think about me?” We all know that person who is always giving you their resume, the person consumed by competition, comparison, jealousy, and revenge. Since they think they have no equals, dialogue with them is impossible, tolerance by them for others who are different They know it all. What this man does in the temple is not to pray but to try to justify himself.
On the other hand, the tax collector puts the emphasis where it should be in his prayer: on the mercy of God. He simply acknowledges who he is in relation to God: “I am a sinner in need of God’s mercy.” And God justified him. Whereas the Pharisee played “dress up” and recited a self-serving fantasy, the tax collector showed God who he really is and spoke the truth.
Which one do you identify with, the Pharisee or the tax collector? Which one would you like to be? What did this story teach you about God?
This next mirror parable is the first parable of Jesus’ teaching ministry.
On another occasion he began to teach beside the lake. Such a large crowd gathered around him that he went and sat in a boat on the water, while the crowd remained on the shore nearby. He began to instruct them at great length, using parables, and in the course of his teaching said: “Listen carefully to this. A farmer went out sowing seeds. Some of what he sowed landed on the footpath where the birds came along and ate it. Some of the seed landed on rocky ground where it had little soil; it sprouted immediately because the soil had no depth. Then when the sun rose and scorched it, it began to wither for lack of roots. Again, some landed among thorns, which grew up and choked it off, and there was no yield of grain. Some seed, finally, landed on good soil and yielded grain which sprang up to produce at a rate of thirty – and sixty – and a hundredfold.” Having spoken this parable, he added: “Let the one who has ears to hear me, hear!”
“Let the one who has ears to hear me, hear.” This parable is about authentic listening and asks the one hearing it to look at how sincerely and how humbly they listen. Jesus identifies four possible reactions to his teaching; and he does so by identifying four different environments in which the seed of his teaching could find itself. And, importantly, the story presumes that the listener makes a choice about the kind of environment in which they want to receive God’s word. In other words, the parable is a “coachability test.”
So, are you choosing to let your heart be the footpath where Jesus’ teaching has no possibility of growing in you because your heart is not open to receiving anything that will allow it to be transformed? Jesus often referred to this choice as hardness of heart, simply being unable to, or in some cases, refusing to let the heart be touched or moved, choosing to remain insensitive to the transforming power of the gospel. Total uncoachability.
Are you choosing to be the soil in shallow ground, in which the seed falls and appears to flourish but soon withers because the heart has no depth and is content to remain shallow and immature? This hearer suffers from the inability to commit oneself, being a believer only if it is convenient, if it is easy, if it is socially acceptable. This one walks away when faith gets difficult or personal or when it is no longer popular. Shallow soils are hearts that are essentially cowardly, people who are only in it for the good feelings, people who will never be able to make sense out of suffering or the cross, people who will not allow themselves to be truly transformed by grace. Incidental uncoachability.
Are you choosing to be the soil that falls among the thorns, getting choked to death because of the need to give vacillate between two competing interests? These listeners’ hearts are truly torn because they are ambivalent, they want everything equally. They cannot set priorities. They want to follow Jesus and learn from him, but they also want everything that the culture values: riches, fame, adulation, setting themselves in a collision course. They have a difficult time being able to narrow down their options and choose only one thing. Because of their difficulty choosing, they find that their impulses toward selfishness are just as powerful as those toward the good. Chronic uncoachability.
Or are you choosing to be good soil which, when it receives God’s word, is open, trusting that the seed finds in your heart the nutrients and the sun and the water to allow it to grow to thirty or sixty or a hundredfold? Maximum coachability. Transformation assured.
As I said, this parable of the sower and the seed was Jesus’ first use of the parable in his teaching. He already knew how what he had to teach would affect his listeners; he knew that his words would reach into hearts that were completely closed, shallow, divided, or humble or coachable.
Which soil do you identify with? In which type of soil would you put your heart? Which soil would you like to choose? How coachable would you say you are? And last, what does this story teach you about God?
As we continue looking at Jesus’ teaching, we will run into both window parables and mirror parables as we go along. But tomorrow, I would like to explore with you the theme of Jesus teaching us about Himself, about who He is, and about who He wants to be in our lives.
Let us conclude with a Hail Mary and a blessing.