Purpose Truth

Busted – when our hearts speak

She would sweep up to the front of the classroom, her long skirt rustling, her glorious curls bouncing. She wore colorful reading glasses on a beaded string like a necklace, was quick to laugh at the antics of her students, and was always excited to teach us something new in biology. Ever-present coffee cup in hand, she supervised our labs and checked our notes, utilizing her pet phrase “if you will” wherever appropriate. (As in, “Class, the DNA, or the double helix, if you will. . . .”)

We loved her, and even today, when helping my daughter study for her own biology class, I remember things this teacher taught us. I also recall that at some point, I became rather well-known in our small high school for my impersonation of her. I’m fuzzy on the details of how it began, but I’m guessing I just did it for a friend on a whim, and it caught on from there.

Pretty soon, upperclassmen (including cute boys!) were coming to me, asking to see my impression of this teacher. I was never a troublemaker at all; in fact, I was and still am a rule follower. But I was so tempted by my newfound status as sketch artist (Saturday Night Live, watch out!) that I gave in to the demands of my adoring fans and kept doing my impression.

It was all fun and games until this teacher came up to me one day and asked me to do my impression of her – for her, as in, to her face. It was one of those moments when you could really use an anvil falling from the sky to save you from the consequences of your own actions. I looked around feverishly for some sort of escape, but alas! None came, and so I did the only thing I could do in that situation.

I perched a lock of my own (permed) hair right in the middle of my forehead to simulate her one errant curl that refused to be tamed and therefore coiled like a spring from the top of her head. I pretended to clutch a coffee cup in my right hand. I placed imaginary reading glasses on the edge of my nose. I said, “If you will” in a voice as close to her own as I could get. 

And I waited for my life to end. Would she give me a detention? A demerit? A suspension? After all, I was a good student. I truly liked her, and she believed she could count on me to be mature and a good example. And what did I do with that trust? I made fun of her. Repeatedly. And all for laughs and attention from other students. I deserved whatever she was about to hand out to me, and I hung my head in shame.

But what came from her mouth was neither censure nor rebuke. She didn’t yell. She didn’t threaten. No, she laughed. It bubbled up inside of her and burst forth in a boisterous bellow. She was delighted. After I took a big old breath and a sigh of relief, I tentatively smiled back at her. 

She wasn’t angry. Everything was going to be okay. But there was no way I would ever do impressions of my teachers again. It was far too risky. I was grateful for the reprieve from her (and beyond thankful for her sense of humor), but this non-risk-taker had done her last teacher impression.

Our family read through the book of Luke last month, and we were all struck by several occasions where Jesus responded to someone else’s thoughts. Not words, but their thoughts. How cornered I felt when confronted by my teacher for my actions imitating her, but imagine how much worse these people must have felt to have Jesus correct them from what He knew was in their thoughts or hearts. These thoughts or heart attitudes had not yet made their way to these people’s mouths, and yet Jesus saw fit to address them.

Now, this is not an exhaustive list. There are probably more occasions than this, but I just want to mention a few examples here. The first is in Luke 5. Jesus has been teaching, and some men carrying their paralyzed friend on a mat lower him through the roof in the hopes that Jesus will heal him. Jesus sees their faith and offers them forgiveness of sins, and the Pharisees and teachers of the law are not happy with what that implies about who Jesus is.

The Pharisees and the teachers of the law began thinking to themselves, “Who is this fellow who speaks blasphemy? Who can forgive sins but God alone?”

Jesus knew what they were thinking and asked, “Why are you thinking these things in your hearts? Which is easier: to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Get up and walk’? But I want you to know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” 

So he said to the paralyzed man, “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.” Immediately he stood up in front of them, took what he had been lying on and went home praising God. Everyone was amazed and gave praise to God. They were filled with awe and said, “We have seen remarkable things today” (Luke 5:21-26).

In the very next chapter, Jesus does it again:  On another Sabbath he went into the synagogue and was teaching, and a man was there whose right hand was shriveled. The Pharisees and the teachers of the law were looking for a reason to accuse Jesus, so they watched him closely to see if he would heal on the Sabbath. 

But Jesus knew what they were thinking and said to the man with the shriveled hand, “Get up and stand in front of everyone.” So he got up and stood there. Then Jesus said to them, “I ask you, which is lawful on the Sabbath: to do good or to do evil, to save life or to destroy it?”

He looked around at them all, and then said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He did so, and his hand was completely restored. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law were furious and began to discuss with one another what they might do to Jesus (Luke 6:6-10).

And one more example:  When one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, he went to the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. 

As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them. When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is – that she is a sinner.”

Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”

“Tell me, teacher,” he said.

“Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”

Simon replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven.”

“You have judged correctly,” Jesus said (Luke 7:36-43).

I can only imagine how busted the Pharisees and teachers of the law must have felt when Jesus read their thoughts and knew what was in their hearts. They certainly didn’t appreciate it, did they? 

But the more important question is:  How will we respond when God points out thoughts and attitudes that we think we have hidden in our hearts and minds? Will we be furious like the Pharisees and teachers of the law? Or will we be humble and accept His correction, cooperating with the work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts and lives?

We sometimes tend to think that as long as we don’t say something out loud, then we can’t be judged for it. But the same Jesus who could see what the Pharisees and teachers of the law were thinking, the ugly things that lay deeply hidden in their hearts, can see ours too.

However, rather than be afraid of this, we can be grateful. In order for Him to fill our hearts with the fruits of the Spirit, He needs to tend our hearts like a Master Gardener, removing the weeds that could choke out the good new growth. This pruning, while painful at the time, produces our ultimate goal of becoming more like Christ. 

1 John 3:1-3 tells us:  See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears,we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. All who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure.

Back To Top