YOU’VE HEARD IT SAID: “It’s not about you.” By that, people typically mean that we need to stop and realize the extent to which we’re looking at things from an overly self-centered perspective, especially when we’re upset. As Rick Warren insists in his bestseller, The Purpose-Driven Life, we can’t know what our purpose in life is unless we start with God instead of our careers and families, or with what we think will fulfill us or make us happy.
I teach something similar to my students, who are Christians studying to be marriage and family therapists. I tell them that in some ways, it is about them, because who they are as people matters to work of therapy. They need to develop their knowledge and skill, of course, but their character matters more, and they should be dedicated to a lifelong pursuit of Christian humility and compassion.
But in other ways, it’s not about them: they must never fall into the trap of thinking that if they could somehow always “get it right” (whatever that means) they could be the therapist of their dreams and help anybody with any problem. That’s not only unrealistic (because therapy doesn’t work that way!), it’s also a recipe for fretting over their clinical performance in a way that makes them pay more attention to themselves than to their clients.
Something similar could be said about the Christian life. When I first became a Christian, it was because someone presented me with a gospel whose logic went something like this: You may not know it, but you have a problem. You’re a sinful human being, and a holy God condemns sin. You’re destined for hell and there’s nothing you personally can do about it. But God is gracious and has made a way: his name is Jesus. He’s the answer to your problem. If you accept him as Lord, you can go to heaven instead!
Some of you reading that may be thinking to yourself, “But that is the gospel, right?” Well, yes…and no. It’s correct as far as it goes, but it doesn’t go far enough. When the good news is framed in that way, it’s good news for me; again, I have a problem and Jesus is the solution. What’s missing is that the problem isn’t just about my individual eternal destiny; it’s that we, as a human race, are not living as the people we were created to be, and everything is out of kilter because of that.
Yes, we need Jesus, but not just to get us into heaven. We need Jesus to give us the Holy Spirit and teach us to be people of humility and compassion, people who care about others and the world, people who are contributing to God’s ongoing work of bringing shalom—that is, God’s peace and wholeness—in every relationship. The good news isn’t simply that we can go to heaven when we die; it’s that we can be empowered to live in a way that brings more heaven-like moments to the world now, today.
So, yes, it is about you, inasmuch as God loves you enough to save you from yourself and wants you to be part of his glorious work. But it’s not just about you; far from it. It’s always God’s work first—God’s ministry—before it can be ours. We are not the heroes or heroines of stories in which God is a supporting character; it’s God’s story first and foremost, and by his mercy, we get to have roles in it.
. . .
JESUS IS IN CAPERNAUM, a modest fishing village on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee. As Luke tells the story, Capernaum is his home base for his Galilean ministry. In the synagogue on the morning of the Sabbath, he freed a man who had been oppressed by a demon. Later, with the same miraculous authority, he freed Peter’s mother-in-law from a serious illness. And when Sabbath was over, after sunset, the townspeople brought others to him for healing.
Luke doesn’t say how long Jesus continued to heal the people who were brought to him. But here’s how the story continues in the morning:
At daybreak, Jesus went out to a solitary place. The people were looking for him and when they came to where he was, they tried to keep him from leaving them. But he said, “I must proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns also, because that is why I was sent.” And he kept on preaching in the synagogues of Judea. (Luke 4:42-44, NIV)
Jesus doesn’t do things on his own. He was brought into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit, and in the power of the Spirit resisted the devil’s wily attempts to derail him from his mission. In the wilderness, Jesus fasted for a full forty days. And although Luke doesn’t specifically say this, I have to imagine that Jesus spent much of his time not just fasting but praying. He was continually seeking his Father’s will, and quoted Scripture to that effect back to the devil.
And Jesus doesn’t engage in his messianic ministry without prayer either. In Capernaum, as soon as the sun came up, Jesus went somewhere where he could be alone. Luke doesn’t say that Jesus went there to pray, but Mark does (Mark 1:35). He wasn’t just looking for some “me time,” but some time alone with his Father.
Not surprisingly, the people of Capernaum soon came looking for him. Mark, in his gospel, says that “Simon and his companions went to look for him, and when they found him, they exclaimed, ‘Everyone is looking for you!'” (Mark 1:36-37). One imagines the townspeople came to Peter’s house, hoping to find Jesus there, and Peter was just as confused as everyone else. Something of a search party was organized, and they found Jesus nearby.
Luke says that the people of Capernaum “tried to keep [Jesus] from leaving them.” And Jesus told them, in essence, that his mission wasn’t just about them; he was sent to bring the good news to other towns as well. Indeed, as Luke phrases it, “he kept on preaching in the synagogues of Judea,” even though Judea lies south of Galilee, on the other side of Samaria. We probably shouldn’t take this as a strict geographical marker, but as a way of saying more broadly that Jesus continued bringing the good news of the kingdom to Jews everywhere.
And as we’ll see, to continue doing that, he’s going to recruit some helpers. But before we look at that story, let’s pause to consider an important implication of this story. Jesus was sent to bring the good news to everyone. But what makes the good news good?
