The Year of Jubilee

And you shall consecrate the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants...each of you shall return to his property...The land will yield its fruit, and you will eat your fill and dwell in it securely. (Leviticus 25:10, 13, 19)

     The Year of Jubilee fell on each fiftieth year for the Israelites.  It followed the sabbatical year, the 49th year, a fallow year as each seventh year was a fallow year.  So in the Year of Jubilee the Israelites would be into their second straight fallow year - no planting of crops, hence no reaping of crops (except whatever the land produced of its own accord).  Not only that, but in this year those who had sold land and moved away were able to return to their land, the land of their fathers and grandfathers, and reclaim it.  There was payment, yes; but it was required to be fair payment.  No man in the nation of Israel was allowed to make another man destitute, to gobble up real estate at the expense of his brothers.  And God also promised that no one would starve, even if they didn't plant and harvest for two straight years.
     What a mind-blowing idea is the Year of Jubilee.  For so many reasons, it is an alien and objectionable thing.  From the perspective of a 21st century American, it is repugnant.  Grossly anti-capitalistic - nay, communistic!  Socialistic!  It smacks of Karl Marx and the grand Soviet experiment, with the bewildering caveat that it was commanded by God.
     But still, it is a strange and beautiful thing.  It is beautiful to me because of the picture of redemption and renewal.  This picture of redemption is already present in the fallow seventh year.  The seventh year is the year of rest, just as the seventh day was the day of rest for God, just as the seventh day of the week was the day of rest for the Israelites.  That command to rest, it's difficult.  It is hard because, though we want rest, we want it on our terms.  The problem of course is that when we seek rest on our own terms we simply overlook it and run ourselves into the ground.  God commanded rest not because it was an easy task, but because it was a difficult and foreign one.
    And so the Year of Jubilee is a gigantic rest.  It is rest upon rest; and not only that, it is liberty unwarranted.  Undeserved freedom: from indentured servitude, from poverty, from want.  The Year of Jubilee, even though it was relatively rare (50 years does not pass quickly), was an enormous promise.  An almost unbelievable promise for a destitute man.  A promise for freedom, liberty, redemption and reconciliation.  What an incredible picture of the Father's love.  What a difficult thing for us to grasp.  What a vital thing in which we must participate.

The Problem With Ministry

Ministry is a whore.

This is what Jake Hamilton said last year when he came to my church in Amarillo to lead our annual Kingdom Conference, a kind of multi-day revival Messiah's House holds each year.  He said this because at the time his own ministry, which takes him all over the world singing, playing and preaching, was killing his marriage.  He had become so focused on his ministry that he was alienating his family.  He had been working hard for God (or so he probably thought) at the expense of his relationship with his wife.  He had found a harlot to take her place.  Ministry had become his whore.

I'd like to make a distinction right now between a ministry and ministry in general.  The problem in Jake's life last year was not a product of his focus on ministering generally.  He did not get to a place in his marriage where his wife was ready to check out by building up other believers, speaking into people's lives, and preaching the Gospel.  No doubt these things occurred while he was traveling and preaching and playing music, but it would be akin to blaming God for his (then) failing marriage if we just said he was working hard for the Gospel and couldn't pay attention to his family.  No, what happened was his Flesh got carried away.  That part of him that has a name and two hands and the energy and talent and wherewithal to grow his calling into something bigger, busier and more significant than it was when God called him to it, that was what was wrecking his home.  That was the whore.  His ministry had become his new love.

This is a tricky thing to speak to.  Culturally we are conditioned to be impressed by someone as popular, successful and hard-working as Jake Hamilton.  We are Americans and we value the bootstrap-pulling, dedicated, all-out types of people who make things happen.  We can appreciate when someone creates an organization or effort out of nothing and grows it into something that changes lives.  We seem to have a simple equation about such things: The ends justify the means.  If the end product is successful enough, powerful enough, big enough, then it may not even matter if God is still behind it.

Not that I think our view is so crass or cynical as that.  I doubt if any of the believers I know would be gung-ho for a ministry they knew had outpaced God.  But then again, most of us don't know.  Back to that cultural conditioning - we have a very different definition of success than God does.  We look at a man like Jake Hamilton as he was a year ago and our view is that God had blessed him and his ministry.  He was successful, impacting hearts and lives all over the place, taking the message of the Gospel everywhere he went.  But of course his marriage was falling apart; surely that wasn't God's will, right?  You see, we couldn't see what God could see; we couldn't see Jake's heart.  And we fail in this: we do not define success as obedience.  But God does.  An obedient man with an apparently tiny impact is of more value to the Kingdom of God than an arrogant man with an enormous ministry.

Lest we forget, God is not after big ministries; He is after our hearts.  The Maker of the universe can handle it if we don't have a huge ministry with a catchy name, website and mission statement.  His Gospel will change the world and it doesn't have to cost us our marriages or our families or our dearest relationships.  We don't have to travel to fulfill the Great Commission, or write books to sway hearts to the Lord's salvation, or be the best musician to make a joyful noise unto the Lord.  Just like it was for Samuel, our first inclination is to look at the outward appearance and make the judgment.  But God looks at the heart, where the motives and the passions lie regardless of what is produced outwardly.  God looks at the heart because he cares about motives and sincerity, and because he wants us to love him with the whole of our hearts.

The problem with ministry as we usually deliver it is that we are far too concerned with the outward appearances.  I think we need to remember that ministry happens all the time everywhere - or at least it can and should.  Jesus shows us a great model for ministry.  It should be noted that his ministry was the greatest one of all, the reconciliation of mankind to God.  He was the Messiah finally come to earth, but he didn't come with banners and slogans and mission statements and great PR.  In fact, his ministry was pretty much the opposite of what our ministries usually are.  He shunned large gatherings, even though the crowds kept following him.  He stayed out of the big city as long as he could.  He defied the conventions of his culture and time to carry out his ministry.  Most importantly is this: he did what the Father said without fail.  That was his heart and that was his ministry.

The problem with ministry is not a problem with ministry, it's a problem with us as people, as fallible victims of our flesh who want to make a name for ourselves.  The world doesn't need another Ministry, and I'm sure the world doesn't even want another one.  What the world needs and wants desperately is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  Now that is a ministry.