Keeping a Weather-Eye Out

I used to tease my dad about how over-protective he was. I was the only girl and the youngest, and that double whammy sometimes made me feel like I was kept in a glass jar made up of just-in-case's. Most of the time, though, I was thankful I had a dad who cared so much.

When I was in first or second grade, I lived in a house that was two streets away from my best friend's house. It was within easy walking distance, and often, when homework and chores were done, one or the other of our parents would accompany my friend or me to the other's house for playtime.

As I got a little older, we were allowed to take the walk by ourselves, but one parent would watch us out of sight, and at that point, the other parent would pick out where we were and watch us walk the rest of the way. I usually felt safe with this arrangement, but there was quite a stretch of empty street between my friend's house to my house.

While one parent or the other could see us, it didn't always look like I was under anyone's care or protection.

One day, I was walking back home from my friend's house, and I'd reached my street. I could see my dad way down the road, standing at the end of our driveway, watching for me to come. Between me and my driveway, there was a large group of middle-school-aged kids standing on the street, doing whatever it is that middle-school-aged kids do when they have too much time on their hands.

To reach my dad, I had to pass through them, since they lined the street on both sides.

I was more shy than most, and I slowed down, seriously contemplating turning around and running back to my friend's house, because they appeared big, scary, and loud. But my dad was waiting, and I could still see him, so I kept going.

As soon as they caught sight of me, they did pretty much what I expected. They started making rude remarks, taunting me. There were some large chestnuts that had fallen from a nearby tree and lay scattered over the road, and some of the kids picked up the handy-dandy missiles, and began to throw them at me.

I was terrified, and I started to run. Looking up, I saw my dad running down the street in my direction. 

You know... I honestly don't remember what happened after that. I'm pretty sure the kids scattered; they were like oil on water, gathering and collecting in one spot, easily separated and moved out of the way by any distress of the water beneath. My only memory  of that moment is looking up and seeing my my dad coming for me, to rescue me. He was watching out for me, careful and attentive, on alert, knowing I was heading his way.

In Ezekiel 33:1-6, God is talking to Ezekiel the prophet, and He gives him a task: To be a watchman for the people of Israel. To summarize the paragraph, God says: "Hey, Ezekiel, you need to watch out for when I bring judgement against this nation by making use of its enemies. If you see judgment coming and you warn the people -- and they don't take measures to protect themselves -- it's their fault. But if you don't warn the people, and they die at the hands of their enemies with the judgment I send, then it's your fault, and I'm holding you responsible." In verse 7: "Son of man (Ezekiel), I have made you a watchman for the people of Israel."

In ancient Israel (and in surrounding cultures), cities were built with walls as protection, and on those walls, usually a watchtower was placed. It was a lookout, a place for the watchman to stand with a vantage point, to look out over the land or sea and see enemies approach. 

Where I lived in Ireland, if you hiked across the heather-strewn slopes to the sea-cliffs, you'd come to a small watch-tower. It was covered with graffiti -- many, many years abandoned and no longer in use -- where watchmen used to take shelter against the frigid wind and the sea spray blowing in from the cold northern Atlantic, and where they had an unparalleled view of the wide expanse of water, as well as the land behind them that sloped downward toward the towns below. In that position, they could be the first to raise an alarm against anything threatening.

So, continuing through Holy Week, Jesus entered Jerusalem to the tune of Hosanna, Hosanna! Save us! He looked around the temple, went back to spend the night at Lazarus' home, returned the next day and cleared the temple of its money changers and lenders. You have made My house a den of thieves! 

He goes back, spends another night at Lazarus' home, and then, on Tuesday, He heads back to Jerusalem to the Temple where He fields questions from the chief priests, the teachers of the law, and the elders who keep trying to trap Him in His words. Ingeniously evading them each time, He simultaneously manages to teach the people some important lessons.

His parables are winding down toward a final resolution, an ultimate goal: prediction of His death, and the circumstances that will come out of that. In Mark 12:1, Jesus begins a new story: "A man planted a vineyard. He put a wall around it, dug a pit for the winepress, and built a watchtower."

Right away, Jesus takes elements that the people are super-duper familiar with, and invokes parabolic imagery. 

Hey guys, look: a wall. Remember way back in history when Joshua marched around a big wall, and fought a battle unlike any battle ever fought before or since, and when the wall crumbled to dust, he won?

Hey guys, look: a vineyard. Remember when I was telling you that I am the Vine, y'all are the branches, and My Father is the Gardener, and that any branch that doesn't bear fruit, my Father cuts off, while any branch that does bear fruit, He prunes so that it's even more fruitful? Remember that uncomfortable little lesson? (John 15)

Hey guys, look: a winepress. I mean, that just goes right along with that pruning, doesn't it? Y'all hate discomfort, but guess what, discomfort brings out the wine. Getting out of your seat makes you effective. 

Hey guys, look: a watchtower. 

In this particular parable, the owner of the vineyard rents it out to some farmers, and heads out on a journey. When harvest time comes, the owner sends servants to collect some of the fruit of the vineyard, but the farmers are keeping an eye out from that watchtower. They beat up the servants and send them away with nothing. The owner sends another servant, and same deal, only worse. The next guy who comes, they kill. They've slowly descended into sin and depravity. Each time, it's a little easier to do more.

The owner finally sends His Son whom He loves (John 3:16), and the farmers beat Him up and kill Him, deciding that -- if they do, they'll get to keep the vineyard and all its fruit (they're not the brightest bulbs in the bunch).

Obviously, the Owner doesn't take too kindly to this, so He heads to the vineyard, kills the farmers, and gives the vineyard to some others.

Parable over, but the story has made the teachers of the law mad. They recognize themselves in the farmers, and they "look for a way to arrest [Jesus], because they knew He had spoken the parable against them."

Jesus finally decides it's time to leave the temple courts again, and as He heads out, His disciples are commenting on the beautiful construction of the place. This is, after all, Solomon's finest hour -- what He is best known for (other than his 300 wives and 700 concubines, I suppose -- that little notation is pretty famous, too). "Look, Teacher!" they say. "What massive stones! What magnificent buildings!"

Jesus says: "Do you see all these great buildings? Not one stone here will be left on another. Every one will be thrown down." And he launches into one of the best transcribed prophetic end-times passages recorded. In fact, what He says is so important and mind-blowing that three of the four Gospel-writers record it (Matthew 24, Mark 13, and Luke 21, and John makes strong allusions to this in John 16:25-33).

Then, Jesus talks about the signs that the Owner of the vineyard is coming to take His property back. And He makes a strong point to His disciples, not necessarily His twelve buddies plus hangers-on walking around Him -- but rather His disciples for centuries following, so that we have hope as we wait for the glorious fulfillment of His return for His bride.

"Watch out that no one deceives you..." (Mark 13:5)
"You must be on your guard..." (Mark 13:9)
"So be on your guard..." (Mark 13:23)
"Be on guard! Be alert!" (Mark 13:33)
"Therefore, keep watch..." (Mark 13:35)
"What I say to you, I say to everyone: 'Watch!'" (Mark 13:37)

I mean... do you think Jesus thought it was important that His followers keep a weather-eye out for what's happening around them?

I am the queen of ostrich-head-burying. I really am. I despise reading the news, because it threatens my semi-comfortable equilibrium. I hate thinking about less-than-pleasant things, because it makes me sad, or mad, or both. It's easier to stay out of the watchtower, to wrap myself in the vineyard and pretend that the grapes are all the exist.

It's easier to let the world go on as it always has, day folding into day, night bleeding into night, without thinking too hard about the future or big existential questions like: What happens when I die? If there is a God, how does that change what I do? If I have refused to acknowledge the Owner of the vineyard, and if I have ridiculed, ignored, or even hurt/killed His servants... what is that going to mean for me?

Y'all... I often tell the Lord -- in the words of Moses: "Pardon Your servant, Lord. I have never been eloquent, neither in the past, nor since You have spoken to Your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue" (Exodus 4:10). Please excuse Me, God, because I don't have the words to say; all I have is the weight in my heart.

And God points to the watchtower and to Ezekiel 33: All I ask is that you speak the message in your heart. That's your responsibility. The reaction to the message is not your cross to carry.

So, I'll pull a Moses and ask, no matter how it sounds: Are you ready? 

A family member of mine left this world last night. In all honesty, despite the fact that we will miss her here, I know that I know that I know that she is walking with Jesus there. And all the physical infirmities that she's had to suffer, and all the pain she's had to endure and the circumstances that have weighed down her life -- are all gone. She's free and uninhibited and she sees Jesus face-to-face, right now.

Make sure you're ready like she was. If you're not, get there. You've got people in your life who are keeping watch -- like my dad who kept an eye on the road, waiting for me to walk into view. He was ready to sprint toward me (not that I'm in any way comparing myself to the Savior of the world who will come on the clouds of heaven).

The attitude of watchfulness is what He wants. Edge of your seat anticipation. Get ready!