Transcription
My name is Lisa Derek, exaggerated wildly. I'm a footnote for "hot mess express," is what I'm a footnote for. Um, I can tell you honestly that really the only gift I bring to the table is gratitude. I am so grateful for what God has restored in my life. I'm so grateful. I'm almost 60. I'll be 60 next summer, so I keep saying it so I'll get used to it. And the thing I love about being this age is I've got a a long season of Walking With Jesus, and I can look back over my life and now I can see so many pits that I dug myself, and He pulled me out of. Uh, I see just this common denominator of redemption and restoration. And I'm not trying to say sin is no big deal. I have been disciplined for some of the sin in my life. He has been very kind. Very rarely did He discipline me in public, but let me tell you, I've disqualified myself for ministry many, many times, and God spanked me, and God restored me, and God has never abandoned me. He's a good God.
He's not a proposition to be studied. He is a holy person with whom to engage. He is a father to the fatherless. He is a husband to the husbandless. He is the friend who sticks closer than a brother. There's a season in my life when I thought I had really blown it because I was so broken when I was younger, and all I wanted was family. And I thought, "I've just sabotaged my shot at family because I was so drawn to abusive men for so long." That when I finally kind of got a clue, and God had restored the the most toxic parts of my life, I realized I'm too old to have biological children. And it's too long a story to tell, but the bottom line is, in my 40s, when He, uh, just began to redeem so many things, um, He allowed me to become a mom through the miracle of adoption.
But I lost two babies before I got Missy, and the one four days before I was supposed to bring the baby home. So my heart was really eviscerated in the process. And then a year and a half into the process of adopting Missy, um, that was a two-year adoption, her first mama died in Haiti of AIDS. And it was right after I'd lost that adoption of the 11th hour. A friend of mine was there when her mother died, and the doctors in Port-au-Prince told them that Miss C, who was two years old at the time, wouldn't live. They said, "She won't live more than a couple of months because she has HIV and tuberculosis and cholera." And the doctor said, "Unless you know someone, really anyone, in a first-world country who's willing to kind of step into this story, this little girl is going to die." And they said, "It's going to be a huge risk. She's not in an orphanage. We don't know if the country will even allow an adoption to go through, and it's very, very, very likely that she will die before anybody ever gets to adopt her." But if you know somebody basically who's just that crazy, you need to call him because otherwise this kid is going to go straight to an institution in Haiti and she'll die because there's no one else to take care of her. And my friend who was there said, "I know just the person." And she said that after the Holy Spirit said to her, and hear me, she's Presbyterian, so she's not given to signs and wonders, but she said she heard God speak in the ER and say, "Lisa Harper's supposed to be this baby's mom." And she flew to the States the next day, called me, explained the story to me, and she said, "Lisa, will you pray about it?" And I said, "No. I said, I've been praying about it for 30 years. Sign me up."
And lest y'all think I'm a woman of faith, I got off the phone and I said a word that's not in the Bible because I thought, "Oh golly Jeepers, I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to start the process with a kid who's probably going to die before I even get to meet her." Um, six weeks later, I was in Haiti. They put her in my arms. I was like, "Stick a fork in me, I'm done." She didn't like me at all at first. She was like, "I'd like to stick a fork in you." You know, it's just a big, pale stranger. But I fell in love hard with my little girl. She's with Avery right now. She's 13 years old, healthy as a horse. But it almost, it almost didn't happen. There were so many hurdles. And a year and a half into the process, they stopped returning my phone calls and they stopped returning my emails. And I got an official paper that said, "We're sorry, but after the year and a half of you coming back and forth to Haiti and everything that y'all have been through, we're sorry, you're actually not going to get to adopt her." And they made up the excuse that they had lost some paperwork. And I can still remember getting that. I live in a little town south of Nashville, Tennessee. Lived by myself in a cottage. I remember getting that paperwork and I thought, "Well, I guess I'll be moving to Haiti." Because I thought, "I'm her only advocate. I'm her mama. I'm mama blah, white mama. I'm her mama." And I thought, "I love that kid more than I knew I had capacity to love. She has changed the topography of my heart." I thought, "I'm already in menopause. I'm hot all the time anyway." And I thought, "I'll move to Haiti." Now, if you didn't know me, you'd go, "Oh wow, that's crazy." If you knew me, you'd go, "Well, she sure seems to love that little kid." If you had been in Haiti when Missy and I had been together, you'd go, "Well, there's no other option. That's mother and child. There's no option. They're already so bonded." I know one's big and pale and the other one's beautiful and brown, but that's her mama and that's her. There's no option. It didn't even seem like much of a risk to me. I thought, "So I'm giving up air conditioning and drive-throughs so my child is in Haiti, and I will be with my kid." I wish I had that kind of passion about Jesus. She's my child. She's not my savior. She's a gift. She's not my joy. Jesus is my joy. Jesus is my King. Jesus is my Redeemer. Jesus is my salvation. Is there any risk too great for Jesus? Is there anything worth hanging on to and losing, holding, or being held by Him? I don't think so.
I'm pushing 60, and I have very few regrets because God has been such a redeemer. But I'll tell you this, whatever time I have left until Jesus tarries, I want to be more committed to Jesus than I was as a young woman. I'm so undone by this love story, y'all. This is not a rule book. It's not a textbook. It's a love story. I'm so undone by Jesus. I can't make it without Jesus. He's not a religion to me. He is not a sense of morality to me. He is not an existential belief system thing. He's my hope. He's my breath. He's my everything. I wake up in the morning and I want more of Jesus. I go to bed at night and I go, "Hold me, Jesus." I love my daughter. You can say anything about me and it's okay, and I've heard, I think, just about everything. Social media, it's amazing how hateful people can be with their thumbs when they have no accountability. I've heard pretty much everything. Say whatever you want to say about me. Sign my heretic. Say I'm too fat to be a Bible teacher. Say whatever you want to say about me. You talk about my kid, I will cut you. I'll cut you deep. [Applause] But Missy pales next to Jesus. Jesus is my one true love.
Luke chapter 7. We've got four gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Mark was written first. As a matter of fact, most of the material in in Matthew and Luke are borrowed from Markian material. John, the Joannine gospel, is written later. Luke is very, very unique. It's a synoptic gospel. That's a fancy seminary word that just means Matthew, Mark, and Luke, the first three in our Bibles, are very, very similar in their literary format. They have parables. They're written, there's some synergy in the way they're written. There's some synergy in the stories, even in the time frame. John has written much later, no parables, so it's not a synoptic. In other words, its literary style is different. But even though it's a synoptic gospel, Luke is very, very different as a gospel account. That word comes from the Greek word *euangelion*, means the good news. Most of us who grew up in church think there's only one gospel. That's actually not true. All of the Roman emperors had a gospel liturgy, gospel. It was like their State of the Union Address. So every year the emperors would say, "Here is the *euangelion*." Now, today you might think of a gospel as if your preferred party wins the Senate or the House next Tuesday, you might think of that as a gospel, as good news. You might think of the shoe sale, annual shoe sale at Nordstrom's, that could be a *euangelion*, that's good news. I think if I could find out that keto is from the devil and actually eating lots of carbs causes you to lose weight, that would be a gospel for me. It'd be good news. But when Jesus came in, He said, "I'm I'm the perennial gospel. I am the best news. Everything else pales next to me." Not only do I reign, but I care about you. I see you. I love you. I am Holy, Transcendent God, and I have condescended to be close to you because you matter so much to me. Not just the church, not just Crossroads, but you. Your story, your family, your hopes, your dreams, your broken dreams. You matter to me.
Luke was an outsider. He's the only Gentile author of scripture. We've got 66 books in our Protestant Bibles. Luke is the only one. Luke and the Acts of the Apostles, Luke wrote both of those books. They're the only books in all of Bible written by a non-Jew. Luke was an outsider. He has more stories about outliers. He has more stories about also-rans and mistakes and people like me than any of the other gospel writers. Luke is the one who makes the Samaritan the hero in the story. Now, the other gospel writers will talk about Samaritans. They were they were considered half-breeds in their culture, half a Syrian. The people group that defeated Northern Israel 700 years before the birth of Christ, half a Syrian because after they defeated Northern Israel, those Assyrian warlords married the women left behind from the men they murdered to further delineate the Jewish bloodline, and a half-Syrian, half-Jewish child became known as a Samaritan.
Missy and I live an hour north of where the KKK started. We were walking down Main Street, Franklin, not too long ago. Cute little town, kind of like downtown Alexandria, a little smaller. We're walking downtown, and I'm so stinking proud to be your mom. It's all I could do not to dress us in matching outfits. But we're walking down Main Street, Franklin, and there's a gentleman about where Pastor Derek is. And I have lost my, is that called farsighted, nearsighted? I can't see far, y'all. Look gorgeous this morning, a little fuzzy, but gorgeous. Well, I see this man about where Pastor Derek is, and he's an elderly man, and he is grinning at me from ear to ear. And I think, "Well, of course he is. I'm with the cutest kid in the world. Someone's cuter than your pale kids." And so we're walking, and I'm just grinning. I'm like, "This is the best." We get a little closer, and I realize, "Oh, he's not grinning." Get a little closer, and realize, "Uh oh, he's grimacing." We get up real close to him, he glares at me, looks down at Missy, spits in front of us, and says, "That's disgusting." Because in his estimation, to have a straight-headed mama with a curly-headed kid, that's just wrong. That's first-century culture when it comes to Samaritans. They would have talked about Samaritans, but they would have made him the person in the ditch. And the story. Luke goes, "No, let me tell you about a Samaritan who was a hero." Luke goes, "Let me tell you about a tax collector." And I elevate him above deacons because he understood he needed help. Let me tell you about women. First-century culture, women were way low on a social scale. I mean, our value was that of a good milk cow. One of the most common rabbinical proverbs was, "Better that Torah," what we would call the Old Testament, "now, better that it be burned than read by a woman." Luke goes, "Let me tell you about some women, outliers, outcasts, hot messes. Let me tell you about how much I love him."
Luke chapter 7, verse 36. "One of the Pharisees," and that's just kind of a fancy deacon, "one of the Pharisees asked him to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee's house and took his place at the table. And behold, a woman of the city," if you come to writing your Bible, underscore that, we'll come back for it, "who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, and standing behind Jesus at His feet, weeping, she began to wet His feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed His feet and anointed them with the ointment." Now, when the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner." And Jesus answering, don't you love that? He thought it in his head, might as well said it on Twitter. "And Jesus answering, Simon, I have something to say to you." And he answered, "Say it, Teacher." "A certain money lender had two debtors. One owed 500 denarii, and the other 50. When they could not pay, he canceled the debt of both. Now, which of them will love him more?" Simon answered, "The one, I suppose, for whom he canceled the larger debt." And Jesus said to this, "Epithet, fair see, you have judged rightly." Then turning toward the woman, he said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house. She gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in, she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which are many, granted she's a hot mess, her sins are forgiven, for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little." And he said to her, "Your sins are forgiven." Then those who were at table with them began to say among themselves, "Who is this who even forgives sins?" And he said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you. Go in peace."
Um, that story in the black, white, and red is pretty powerful. But if you read between the lines and you understand first-century culture and context, it gets even better, bigger, and better. One of my favorite living theologians, Greg Keener, wrote a book called *Spirit Hermeneutics*, which is amazing for those of y'all who like to study. But in that book, he said, "If you get out of the Bible what you're expecting to get out of the Bible, you need to change your expectations. It's always bigger. It's always better." His love is infinitely, infinitely more significant, more unconditional than our finite minds can comprehend. If you read between the line, between the lines of this story contextually, it gets better. When Luke tells us she was a sinner in the city, what Luke is saying with that first-century Greek phraseology is she didn't want to be a prostitute. If you study Greco-Roman history, which is encompasses Jewish history in the first century, you'll find that during this time period of ancient history, Rome had lost most of the money in her coffers. And so Rome gathered together the men that had agreed to fight, to be soldiers on behalf of Rome. And the authorities said, "We can't afford to pay y'all. Your your military checks are going to bounce." And so in lieu of giving you the money we agreed for you to be in the military, we're going to change it up just a little bit. We're going to flip the script. And now instead of getting actual Roman coins, what you get is the spoils of war. So any people group that you defeat, you get to pillage that that territory and you get to take anything of value, take all their gold, take all their silver, take all their flocks. Oh, and by the way, when you kill the men in a certain territory, you get the women and children to do with what you want. And so if you study first-century historians, you'll read that in the ancient Near East, the huge majority of women who sold their bodies were actually trafficked from people groups Rome had defeated because the soldiers took on night jobs and many of the soldiers became pimps. And so that phraseology is significant. If you study history in the first century, you'll find, "Oh, she didn't want to work in the evening. She was most likely a traffic victim or the daughter of a traffic victim."
You read that Jesus is eating a meal with Simon, and you've got to again kind of read between the lines of culture and context to realize, "Oh, he's actually not eating a meal in the living room." Because more often than not in Semitic culture, when they shared a meal together at table, the reason there doesn't have to be an article in front of table is just the word table signified deep, intimate relationship. Their tables were low, more like a coffee table, kind of a coffee table mixed with a picnic table, rough-hewn, low. So you didn't sit at the table to eat in a chair, nor did you sit in a co-ed community. Eating in Semitic culture was completely segregated by gender, and so only men would have been at table with Jesus here in Luke 7. They would be reclining at a low table, like coffee table height. They would not sit in chairs. They would lean on cushions. Jesus would have been leaning on His left hip and left elbow because in the ancient Near East, only the right hand is considered clean, and so you only ate with your right hand. His feet would have been as far away from the food as possible because feet are considered unclean in their culture. You didn't get your feet near the food. And they'd be in a courtyard, most likely, because Simon is a Pharisee. That also means he's a powerful political player. Also means he probably drives a Beamer and has a really nice courtyard. So there's probably walls at his courtyard. And what was common during this period of ancient history is people from the town who weren't invited to eat would still come to eavesdrop. So they would lean against the walls of the courtyard and they would listen to what was being said because these were important conversations that important men were having. So they would eavesdrop. It was kind of ancient social media. Everybody's leaning in whether they had something to say or not. And so this woman is there with probably a small crowd. Jesus, Simon, and a few other men are reclining. They're actually the ones conversing and eating with their right hands. But this woman is observing, and she took a huge risk to be there because everybody knows she's a woman who works at night. How do they know that? Don't talk back, I'm not your pastor. How do they know that? Two things: one is, it's a small place. It's not nearly as well, there's no Target, there's no Starbucks, probably eight square blocks. Everybody knew everything. Everybody knows who she is. Everybody knows she's been trafficked. They also know based on her jewelry because prostitutes had a little flask. That little flask contained perfume oil, and whenever they had a new date, they would take a little bit of that oil and they would dab it either under their lips so they wouldn't smell the stench of whatever man they had to be with, or a little bit on him. Very common in solicitation work during that era. So they knew based on the alabaster flasks, and they knew based on, it's just a small town. So they're already scandalized that she's there. There's several other people there who aren't invited. And suddenly this woman, who wasn't invited to the party, is so compelled by Jesus. She gets on her knees and she breaks that jar. She takes the oil from that jar and she begins to massage His feet. And she's so overwhelmed by the kindness of Jesus that she just begins to weep, and her tears wet His feet, and then she lets her hair down to dry His feet. No woman over the age of 12 in first-century Semitic culture would let her hair down. Married women, women over the age of 12 who had a good reputation kept their hair up. You still see that in some mainstream culture, Nazarene culture, Church of Christ, a lot of women will still keep their hair up if they're married. It was considered very sexual for a woman to let her hair down in public. A woman would only let her hair down if she was with her husband at night. If Jess, if this was first-century, same story, Jess would have her hair up this morning, and the only time she'd let her hair down is when she and Pastor Derek are alone tonight and the kids are in bed, and she would only do that in the privacy of their bedroom. It's a huge deal. This woman lets her hair down, so overcome by Jesus, so undone by His presence. You ever wonder if she had met Him beforehand? Most scholars say that's the only thing that makes sense. The only thing that makes sense is that she had encountered Jesus earlier in the week, that she had watched Him heal a leper. You know, most of the healings with lepers, He held them before He healed their bodies. They're considered ceremonially unclean, you can't touch them. And Jesus would hold them and then heal him. Wonder if she was there and He raised the widow of Nain and her boy back from death to life. She had seen this Rabbi. She had seen His kindness. She had seen His compassion. She had seen His countenance. She had seen how relational He was. And she's leaning against the wall. Her intent was just to observe, but then she was just so overwhelmed, so overwhelmed. She's just gonna help herself before she even thought about her next move. She was on her knees washing His feet. He says to Simon, "Simon, you didn't even provide a basin of water for my feet." That's common courtesy in the Middle East. Our roads aren't paved, so when someone comes to your house, even if you live in a trailer, even if you don't have any money, there's a basin of water by the door so we can wash our feet. Goodness gracious, at least a little thing of wet wipes from the Dollar Tree. You provide something for us to clean our feet. And our culture, men, when they greet each other, they kiss each other on their cheek. Because I'm a rabbi and you're a Pharisee, you actually should have kissed my hand out of deference to my spiritual position. You didn't wash my feet. You didn't provide a wet wipe. You didn't greet me. And yet this woman hasn't stopped washing my feet. This woman let her hair down to dry my feet.
I've heard this story probably thousands of times, y'all. We forget that the Bible is not a flat textbook. You'll see different things every time. Heard the story so many times. I grew up half Baptist. I've seen it flannel graph. I heard a scholar teach this about a month ago, and it slayed me. I saw something I'd never seen before in this story, as many times as I've heard it. Verse 44: "Then turning toward the woman," and in the original language, what Luke is describing is that while Jesus was chastising Simon for being so consumed with looking spiritual that he missed Him, He's gazing at her, gazing at the woman. He says to Simon, "I'm right here. I'm right here. I want a real relationship with you. I want to change your heart. I want to be the one you turn to in the dark. I want to be the one you lean into when you're afraid about leading your family. If you follow me, I'll teach you what it is to lead your family. I want you to turn toward me instead of the pipe, instead of the pill. I'm your satisfaction. I'm the only one who loves you unconditionally. I know every single thing in your life. Nothing in your life is hidden from me. Instead of turning away from you in disgust, I look at you and delight. I gaze at you and delight. Nobody else I'd rather be with but you. You missed it, Simon. You're so religious and you missed a relationship with me. And this woman, she gets it. This woman gets it." Pastor, I think you're supposed to close us. At what moment did the woman decide, "This is my moment to express my gratitude"? Has already articulated. She probably had already had an encounter with Christ. Did she go there knowing that this was her moment and she was going to seize it? "I'll just stop talking so I can sneak in there. Just stop talking so I can slide in there and I can just worship Him." Or was it just caught up in the moment of a fresh revelation? "I never knew this kind of love existed until now. But if it was true for them, perhaps it's true for me. Those that were just standing moments ago. Thank you for letting us borrow your experience for our faith. If it was true for them, then perhaps it's true for me." And so at the core of the message this morning is this: Faith is risky, isn't it? But so is the reward. A reward is risky, so it doesn't really matter when she decided to give Jesus her all and to go all in. Did she go into the courtyard desiring to express her gratitude and worship, or was she caught up in this beautiful moment where she said, "I am completely undone. Now let me dive into all that is Him"? It doesn't matter, does it? I said that just to say this: It doesn't matter what you, um, your intentions when you came in here with. Maybe you did it because there was a best-selling author coming through Martinsburg and you just wanted to see. Or perhaps you've heard about what God is doing in the old theater in Regal. Or maybe you're here because you heard they were cute girls. Or maybe, maybe this was your last stop before you stopped. You know, it has really bothered me since, uh, the day I moved in here. You can almost sense it if you get into the right parts of our neighborhood, the spirit of suicide that that looms over this city. You know, I do every once in a while, don't tell anybody because it's kind of creepy, but, um, I'll go to graveyards and I'll just walk around and I'll read the tombstones just by myself. I don't make a big deal about it. I just, I just walk around and I'll walk around until my heart breaks. I wonder if anybody got to them. I wonder if anybody got to them. I wonder what brought them here. Was it sickness? Was it a suicide? Was it drug overdose? Because you know how the drug overdose, uh, situation in and around Martinsburg is intense, calling us a little Baltimore. So I don't know your intentions in being here. Maybe you came in here with the intentions of giving God your all, or maybe you're just caught up in this moment in which you didn't realize that the wonder of His grace is still available for you. In any regard, He's done His part. He's made Himself available in the courtyard of our life. And now the real question is, how will we respond? It will be risky, and who cares? People are gonna look. So what's your point? People are going to assume. Let people may think, "Serve the Lord and I will get what I've been praying for. I will pursue that which has been beckoning me to come." So here's what we're going to do. On the count of three, matter of fact, just go ahead and stand upon your feet. Overflow, please pay attention. If you're online, don't, don't log off just yet. On the count of three, I'm going to open up the altars. Not because there's something powerful about three, it's just because there's something powerful about intentionality. And so I'm giving you to the count of three to make up your mind. Choose today what you, what you need from this moment. And if this moment's for you, we're going to fill up the, uh, altar. Those in overflow are going to make your way in here as fast as you can. We may even fill up the aisles, or it may only be me and the worship team. But I have decided long ago, I could care less what other people think. I'm gonna go after God like I know I need to. Let the world crumble, let people gossip, but at the end of the day, I'm gonna lay my head down at night knowing that I gave it my all. When I heard the Master's voice, I responded. When I felt the Holy Spirit nudge, I went. When I heard that there was a Man from Galilee who came to Martinsburg to find me, my heart had to respond. When they said unto me, "The altars are open for me to lay down my burdens and my concerns," I was there to lay it down so I could leave different than the way I came. For those that are struggling with shame and guilt and doubt and pain, why leave still cloaked in that garment? God wants to watch this. God's not after transformation, He's after transfiguration. Transformation is external. Transfiguration is internal. Transfiguration leads to transfer. Oh, I just watch it. Here it is. Here it is. A caterpillar goes into a cocoon, that's transformation. Transfiguration is the caterpillar emerging from the cocoon. Listen, you'll never discover your ability of flight if you will without time in the cocoon of His presence. Transfiguration. One, you're the man or the woman with the vial around your neck, but what the enemy meant for evil, God will turn around and He will use it for His glory and your good. You need to make up your mind. Two, nobody's gonna judge you if you come forward or if you need to leave. We understand. But if this is your message and this is your story, and where two or three are gathered, there He is. So we have the woman, and we have ourselves. So there Jesus is. One, two, three, move. One, two, three, come. One, two, three, get it. One, two, three, leave it at the altar. One, two, three, "I was glad when they said unto me, 'Let us go into the house of the Lord.'" For there I hear the Father still resides, blessing His sons and daughters. One, two, three, pursue. One, two, three, touch the hem of His garment. One, two, three, ask for me in my house. One, two, three, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, January, February, March, 2001, two, and three, I will not give up in my pursuit of Him. I'm gonna stop talking and I'm gonna go after God the way I know I need to. In this moment, you do what you feel led to do. If that's leaving, God bless you. If it's sitting down, then sit down. If it's standing with your arms raised, do that. Whatever you need to do in this moment, we're gonna do that. But you are officially dismissed, and you are officially invited to come and feast from the Master's table so that you will never leave hungry and thirsty like you once were. Lord, fill this moment and to our soul, let us receive that for which we are desperate for. Amen. And God bless. [Music]