Entering the kingdom
Jesus saw that the scribe answered with understanding, and he said to him, “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.”
– From Mark 12
In The Holiness of God R.C. Sproul recounts Martin Luther’s first attempt to offer Mass. “He froze at the altar. He seemed transfixed. His eyes were glassy, and beads of perspiration formed on his forehead. A nervous hush filled the congregation as they silently urged the young priest on.”
But Luther went limp and stumbled back to his seat. Young Martin was completely caught up by the holiness of God, and he could not speak those simple, lovely words which are meant to accompany the miracle of transubstantiation: “We offer unto thee, the living, the true, the eternal God.”
Luther tells his own story:
At these words I was utterly stupefied and terror-stricken. I thought to myself, “With what tongue shall I address such majesty, seeing that all men ought to tremble even in the presence of an earthly prince? Who am I, that I should lift up mine eyes or raise my hands to the divine Majesty? The angels surround him. At his nod the earth trembles. And shall I, a miserable little pygmy, say ‘I want this, I ask for that?’ For I am dust and ashes and full of sin, and I am speaking to the living, eternal and true God.
Jesus reminds the scribe in Mark 12 that the words of Deuteronomy command him to love God with ALL his heart and ALL his soul and ALL his mind and ALL his strength.
What if not ALL? Well, as Sproul says, God does not grade on a curve. If not ALL, then not at all. All or nothing. If not ALL, well, you’re all out of luck.
Sproul might be just a little crazy too, like Luther. But he does admit that none of us can live this way. ALL means 100 percent all the time in every way. This is not the way of all flesh. Not the way of any flesh.
In this desperate inadequacy I am forced to turn my eyes away from myself and instead toward God. Then God turns my eyes toward those around me. With all my heart and soul and mind and strength, love my neighbor as myself. This too seems impossible.
In the quiet of his study, Luther had another vision. God spoke to him through a new translation of Romans 1, where he read the words, “The just shall live by faith.” At last Martin could approach God believing, not behaving. His sin might be bold, but his repentance and God’s forgiveness was bolder still.
Not that God is any less holy. Nor that God’s requirements of us are less radical and complete. “Be perfect,” Jesus said, “even as your Father is perfect.” But in Luther’s vision, all our pleasing, perfect works come as a result of our justification before God. They are never the reason for it. This vision transformed his relationship with God.
Jesus looked into the eyes of the scribe. In his own moment of choosing belief in God, the scribe would receive the gifts of trust and faith and hope. And then this man would not just be “close” to the kingdom; he would enter it. The scribe, Luther, you, me. This gift God wants to give us all.
Dear Lord, let me no longer say, “My god,” to the work of my hands. I need you every hour. Let me dwell in your shade and walk straight in the path you make for me.
R. C. Sproul, The Holiness of God, Chapter 5, “The Insanity of Luther,” p. 79, 1985
Roland Bainton, Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther, Chapter 1, “The Vow,” p. 25, 1955
http://www.davesandel.net/category/lent-easter-devotions-2019/
http://www.christiancounselingservice.com/archived_devotions.php?article_id=1774
