Not long ago, there was a humorous advertising slogan that became a hot topic in Korea: “I want to do nothing. I’m already doing nothing, but I want to do nothing even more intensely.” What makes this phrase feel funny is the strange pairing of “doing nothing” with the word “intense.” You might get a better sense of this if you imagine a scene from a certain comic. A “couch potato” (baeksu) ended up tearing a ligament and a muscle after overexerting his muscles. You might wonder what kind of business a couch potato has overexerting his muscles, but the reality was this: One day, while lazing around watching T.V., he wanted to change the channel. The remote was over there, by his feet. He called for his wife to pick up the remote for him, but there was no answer. He could have just sat up and picked it up, but it was too much of a hassle. He stretched his leg out to try to pick up the remote with his toes, but it was a bit out of reach. He could have wiggled down just a bit to move his body, but even that felt like too much trouble. Staying in that exact position, he stretched his leg down as far as it would go—but it was still a bit short. While trembling and trying to stretch just a bit more, his muscle eventually tore. He was physically doing nothing, but his heart was intense.
Let’s look at another scene. Intense waves are rising on the sea. Jesus and His disciples are on a boat. The disciples’ hearts are also intense. They were intensely afraid and anxious. So, while panicking, their frustration also became intense. They then made two wrong judgments: First, that they were about to die. Second, that despite this, Jesus was doing nothing and neglecting the situation. This was because Jesus was asleep in the midst of that intensity. The sea and the disciples’ hearts were raging, but Jesus was serene. And He rebuked that intensity, making it calm in an instant—both the sea and the disciples. Jesus governed the outward intensity with His inward serenity.
Between the couch potato and Jesus, whom do you want to be like? Naturally, you would want to be like Jesus. But who do you actually resemble right now? Are you like the lazy man whose heart is intense but who ends up doing nothing and only hurting himself, or like the disciples who, in their inner intensity, make completely wrong judgments? Recently, my own heart has been intense. “Noisy” things kept happening one after another. One car had battery issues and wouldn’t start. Even after replacing it with a new battery, I had to jump-start it every time I tried to start it. But then, a bigger problem occurred with the other car: the transmission failed. After looking around, I found the repair costs to be incredibly expensive. Moreover, the quotes varied wildly depending on the mechanic, ranging from $3,200 to $6,500. It was nerve-wracking to leave it at the cheapest place, yet it was also ambiguous whether it was right to spend that much money fixing a used car. My mind was a mess for a while from calling around and getting estimates. To top it off, I had a toothache. It was a tooth that had been hurting bit by bit, and since it had to be extracted anyway, I had been barely managing, but then my canine tooth started hurting to the point where I could no longer stand it. After having it extracted and leaving the dentist’s office, my tongue kept flicking into the empty space, and my mind was cluttered with aimless thoughts about what to do. In Korean, we have the expression “sok sikkeureopda” (literally, “my insides are noisy”), and if you think about it, that expression is exquisite. It says the “insides” are noisy. Of course, that “inside” wouldn’t be the stomach but the heart, and in the heart, you hear this voice and that voice. There is static and distracting thoughts. It was in the midst of this inner intensity that I encountered today’s text. And while holding onto and meditating on this passage, my inner intensity was largely governed. I hope this word reaches you with deep resonance.
The event in this text can be called the most intense incident in Jesus’ public ministry. Imagine the scene for a moment. It was Passover, and countless people had swarmed into the Temple. In the Temple courts, people were gathered selling animals like sheep and cattle for the pilgrims to use as sacrifices. Sacrificial animals had to have the high priest’s approval that they were without blemish, and since the process of trading such animals was also overseen by the high priest, he was able to amass massive wealth in the process. Furthermore, the Temple tax had to be paid in the sanctuary shekel, which had a different unit than the one commonly used at the time. Also, because it differed from Roman currency, any Jew or converted Gentile over the age of 20 had to exchange their money with money changers to pay the Temple tax, and since the Sanhedrin Council oversaw this process, it also became a massive source of profit. Thus, the Temple courts had turned into a giant marketplace forming a huge commercial district. Jesus overturned this marketplace. Making a whip out of cords, He drove the sheep and cattle from the temple courts. Animals chased by the whip bolted frantically, merchants scrambled after the running animals, dust rose, shouts were heard, the tables of the money changers were overturned—and along with them, the money changers’ tempers. Coins were scattered and rolling around, money changers were frantic trying to pick up the money on the ground, and Pharisees full of hostility were watching the situation with murderous eyes to find any excuse to trap Him. It was an absolute mess, so what an intense event it was.
Yet, in the middle of this intensity, Jesus’ inner being was truly serene. He faced and handled the most intense moment with the utmost serenity. Was He really? At least three proofs can be presented from the text that Jesus handled this moment with inner serenity.
First is the reaction of the merchants and money changers. There wouldn’t have been just a few animals, and the money changers’ capital wouldn’t have been just a few thousand dollars. Since it was a business targeting Jews and converted Gentiles gathered from all over for Passover, and since it was a monopolistic business, the capital must have been substantial. But driving out those animals and, especially, pouring out the money is no small matter. People are truly sensitive when it comes to their own profit and loss. Overturning a businessman’s capital is a matter of life and death. Yet, these people showed no reaction. They couldn’t curse at Jesus, jump at Him, or scream for compensation. Why? They were overwhelmed by Jesus’ authority. If Jesus had been shouting with a red face and a trembling voice, using mere physical intimidation, these merchants would never have stayed quiet. No one is submissive when their money is at stake just because you bully them. Think of the L.A. Riots that occurred for 6 days from April 29 to May 4, 1992. The fire of the Black community’s anger, sparked by the Rodney King case, spread to Korean-Americans. Countless Korean businesses were burned and looted. But the scenes captured on the T.V. news then were shocking. Korean store owners who ran large markets went up to the roofs with their employees, holding rifles to confront the rioters and protect their markets. And some who ran small shops alone took pictures of the approaching rioters with a camera in one hand for evidence while holding a pistol in the other and firing blanks to protect their shops with their whole bodies. It was truly putting their lives on the line. Watching that scene broadcast live on the news, a thought briefly crossed my mind: “Do they really have to go that far? Just let it go. Life is what’s important, not money.” But then, the very next moment, I thought, “Oops.” I lamented, “How can a pastor have such a lack of empathy?” To others, it might seem like, “Do they have to protect it so desperately?” but once it becomes your own problem, life isn’t more important than money; money is life. If someone overturned that money, that business, right in front of your eyes, no one would just sit there and take it. Yet, the merchants and money changers couldn’t do that to Jesus. It was because His actions weren’t from physical intimidation but from a confident action coming out of serenity. They were overwhelmed by a serene authority. There is another such example. When Jesus was praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, soldiers came to arrest Jesus with Judas leading the way. At that time, they were carrying swords and clubs. A “mongchi” (club) is a fatal weapon with a metal ball attached to a chain. It’s the very weapon Yi Bang-won used to strike Jeong Mong-ju’s head at Seonjuk Bridge. When soldiers armed with such lethal weapons came swarming in full force, He quietly stepped forward in front of the disciples and said, “I am he.” At that moment, the soldiers collapsed and fell to their knees before Jesus. They were overwhelmed by the authority of serenity. From a common-sense perspective, the exact opposite should have happened. The person who should have been backing away and falling down before armed forces was the one being arrested, wasn’t it? But it was those who came to arrest Him who collapsed. They weren’t suppressed by force but crumbled before authority. Such authority comes from serenity.
Second, Jesus’ delicate attentiveness is another proof. Even in the middle of intensity, a surprising delicacy is glimpsed. While driving out the animals and overturning the money changers’ tables, He said to those selling doves, “Get these out of here!” (John 2:16, NIV), and had them take the cages out. Even in the sacrifices offered to God, there was a difference between the haves and the have-nots. People in decent circumstances offered cattle or sheep, but those in truly difficult circumstances were forced to offer humble doves. The dove merchants for people in these circumstances were also likely livelihood vendors rather than corporate entrepreneurs. Also, while you can catch a sheep or cow that runs away, once a dove is released, you can’t catch it again, can you? Jesus’ ability to be this delicate in the middle of a “violent” ministry was possible because He carried out that ministry with unshakeable serenity. Jesus’ amazing delicacy can be found throughout His entire ministry. When Jesus finally announced to His disciples that they should go to take up the Cross and passed through Jericho on the way to Jerusalem, the weight of the Cross must have been pressing down on His shoulders, and His heart must have been filled with a massive tension for the salvation of humanity. At that time, from a distance, a blind man shouted to Jesus, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” At this cry that no one listened to, Jesus stopped. And calling him, He let him open his eyes and see, and proclaimed salvation. The Creator of the universe and Savior of humanity responded delicately to the cry of one blind man. I am truly awed every time I meditate on this scene where not even one tiny person was marginalized because of a task too great. Let’s enjoy a poem by Ahn Do-hyun, who has a similar perspective: “That the young snowflakes / Jump into the river, not elsewhere / And thus melt and disappear without a trace / The river / Was heartbroken / So before the snowflakes touched the water / To change its body and flow / It kept tossing and turning this way and that / Every time, there was a sound of fierce river water / Without knowing that / The snow kept falling thoughtlessly, thoughtlessly / The river / To receive the snow into its own body from last night / Had started spreading thin ice from the edge of the river.” This is a poem titled “By the Winter River.” Would the river really have changed its fierce flow to avoid snowflakes? Would the river really have started freezing to catch the snowflakes softly? But in the poet’s eyes, it looks that way. For one flying snowflake, the river desperately wiggles its huge body to change direction or stops its flow and freezes. From this poet’s perspective, it is clearly understood that Jesus, who is God, came to the world and took up the Cross to save me, a single sinner. And such delicate love is impossible unless the inner being is serene. If a person is cluttered inside and captured by a certain issue, they can never show delicate interest and reaction to others. If you are transparent and serene, you can be infinitely delicate—like Jesus.
There is a third proof. To the Jews demanding a sign, Jesus answered, “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days” (John 2:19, NIV). The Jews naturally didn’t understand. But Jesus was announcing the grand transition from temple-centered Judaism to the Christian faith that would newly unfold through the presence of the Holy Spirit after the Cross and Resurrection. In other words, He proclaimed the most profound and important spiritual truth in the New Testament at this intense moment. How could one proclaim such a truth while the heart is oscillating and noisy? The fact that this truth was proclaimed in this place will be another proof that even in such an intense moment, Jesus’ inner being was infinitely serene.
Then, we must now ask this question: How could Jesus be that serene? Don’t you want to learn Jesus’ serenity? As someone whose insides are noisy, I intensely want to learn Jesus’ serenity. Because only when the inner being is serene can life also be serene. While meditating on the text, I was able to get two hints. And these hints definitely helped me. I hope they can be the same for you.
The first hint is Jesus’ understanding of and attitude toward people. “But Jesus would not entrust himself to them, for he knew all people. He did not need any testimony about mankind, for he knew what was in each person” (John 2:24-25, NIV). It says Jesus knew all that was in people. It’s amazing that He could love them while knowing everything inside them. He knew they would betray Him within a night after having dinner together, and He knew they would run away just to save themselves. Yet He loved them. He loved them to the end. There was no vortex of emotions like disappointment, futility, or rage. We often say things like, “How can a person be like that? Wearing the mask of a human, how can they do that?” The answer to such a lamenting question is that they do it because they are human. If you think about it, human history is a history of betrayal. Human history begins with betraying and rebelling in the Garden of Eden. Therefore, everything a person does is because they are human. Thus, once we decide to love someone, we must start by deciding not to be surprised by anything that happens in the future. The word “not entrust” contains many meanings. Entrusting, expecting, hoping—all of these are included. Jesus loved people but did not entrust Himself to them. But in many cases, I don’t know if we are doing the opposite. We don’t love, yet we try to rely on and expect. Or we love, but we bundle an expectation that is as big as or perhaps bigger than the love and send it out. If there are more things you expect, demand, and hope for than you love, this posture and attitude will never leave you in serenity. Constant waves of disappointment, betrayal, hatred, anger, and resentment will make our insides noisy. We must learn Jesus’ relationships to be serene. The more you ask someone to take responsibility, say you will take responsibility, and rely on and expect, the more intense the inside becomes. Are we really beings who can take responsibility for others? Can you take responsibility for yourself? We can’t. We can’t take responsibility for our children, and spouses can’t take responsibility for each other. We only love; the one who takes responsibility for us is God. Thus, we must also govern relying and expecting from each other. Love must be greater than the expectation for children. Love must be greater than the desire for someone. So as love gradually grows and expectations gradually lower, healing begins as the amount of love starts to be far greater than the amount of expectation. The larger that variance, the more intense the healing.
There was a church that would chase away a pastor within a few months every time a new one was appointed. Since such things kept repeating, rumors spread far and wide in the community. One day, a new minister was appointed to that church. Even after a few months had passed, no rumors were heard of the pastor being chased away. It was quiet even after a year passed. Rather, rumors were heard that the church was doing well. Curious, an elder from a neighboring church asked a key member of that church. He asked what kind of pastor had come that the church was so quiet and doing well. The deacon of that church said that he didn’t seem to do anything particularly well, but a sermon the new pastor gave upon arriving had a huge impact. The first sermon that pastor gave when he was appointed was titled “The Hireling Shepherd and the Wolf Congregation.” He said, “I came knowing well what kind of church this is. I know well that you are not a flock of sheep but wolves. We are even. Because I am also not a good shepherd but a hireling shepherd. So now, let’s think of each other as a hireling and wolves and not expect from each other. If I can’t do something properly, please think, ‘What else can you expect from a hireling?’ I will also pass it over thinking, ‘What else can you expect from a wolf?’ Then, if by any chance you see even one thing I do well, I would be grateful if you could recognize it and say, ‘Oh, the hireling is doing pretty good.’ I will also recognize you if there is something you do well and say, ‘Wow, the wolf is doing pretty good.’” And while living that way, they really passed over what they couldn’t do as “that’s how it is,” and when they saw something they did even a little bit well, they would praise it, saying “Wow.” Living that way, 6 months passed and a year passed, and now the church is very peaceful. Lowering expectations was the start of healing.
Then let’s make an assumption. If love grows infinitely and expectations are lowered close to zero, so that like Jesus, you can send out only love without even 1% of expectation, how immense a healing power would appear? On the other hand, our inner being will be infinitely serene. Previously, Berkland Baptist Church held a conference on small groups. In the day, ministers and professors presented biblical and theological theories on small groups, and in the evening, small group leaders had time to present actual experiences and cases, and the testimony of one small group shepherd was moving. From the shepherd’s perspective, he was willingly and joyfully serving the members, but at one point, he fell into temptation. It was when he started thinking that one member was subtly using him. Since it was a family that hadn’t been long since they came from Korea, it was natural that they needed help in the settling process, but knowing that he would help all too naturally, they would frequently ask this and that. “Please give me a ride,” “Please look for a house to move into,” “Please look into school issues for the kids”—even asking for grocery shopping made him snap and explode with anger. He was agonized because the heart to serve with joy had disappeared, and while praying and falling asleep, he had this dream. There was a large tray, and “Five Loaves and Two Fish” were on it. And a Communion service was being held, and before he knew it, the Five Loaves and Two Fish on the tray had changed into Jesus. Jesus’ body was on the tray, torn and divided, being used as the bread and cup of the Communion. “That’s right. I lived by eating Jesus’ flesh and drinking His blood,” he was infinitely moved, when suddenly, instead of Jesus’ body, he saw himself lying on that tray and woke up startled. And he cried his eyes out, repented, and committed himself again. He decided, “Fine, I will just lie still on the tray like the Five Loaves and Two Fish, so feel free to eat me up.” If they needed his time, they could take it; if they needed his car, they could take it; he just let it go for them to use whatever they needed as they pleased. After that, he became so serene and comfortable in his heart, without resentment, regret, or a sense of being wronged. Learning Jesus’ human relationships, where He loved people to the end but did not entrust Himself to them, is the first secret to serenity. Amen.
The second hint is that Jesus made a whip out of cords. Why did He do that? Since He needed a whip to drive out the animals and happened to not have one, did He twist some cords to make a whip? Well, that could be it, but I got a hint while thinking differently. It takes at least a moment of time to twist cords and make a whip. Whether it’s dozens of seconds, a minute, or a bit longer, anyway, it’s having a bit of a margin before an action. I named this Divine Pause. If you think about it, such margins are easily found throughout Jesus’ ministry. In John 8, the Pharisees came before Jesus holding the hair of a woman caught in adultery in one hand and a stone in the other. The Pharisees’ intention was clear. The woman was naturally to be stoned to death. Furthermore, they came with the intention of stoning Jesus too. Jesus, who received the question, wrote something on the ground. No one knows. What He wrote. What is clear is that even this short moment was a Divine Pause. After a brief margin, Jesus spoke: “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” And He wrote on the ground again. He had two margins. If the first margin was for Jesus Himself, for whom was the second margin? In that short time, people thought, and then they put down their stones and left. Their intention changed 180 degrees. Even when they brought the woman to Jesus, they didn’t have even 1% of a thought to let her live. In terms of time, that short margin changed their intense anger into serene reflection. This is the power of the margin. Jesus not only had margins Himself but also let people experience the power of the margin that changes intensity into serenity.
Before the miracle of the Five Loaves and Two Fish, Jesus looked up to heaven and gave thanks for a moment. Wouldn’t this also be a margin? Before raising Lazarus, there was a margin of two days, and before the Cross, there was the long margin of Gethsemane. And every dawn, the Lord had a time of margin alone. No matter how busy or tired He was in His daily life, the margin was always there. Through this time of margin, He heard the Father’s voice, gained wisdom and inspiration, and entrusted Himself not to people but to the Father. And He gained serenity. If you think about it, Jesus always lived accompanying God the Father. He always possessed a spirituality of staying in God’s presence. Despite that, if such intentional margins were always necessary for Him, I, a lazy and worldly human, realize how much more intensely I must secure such margins. How about you?
One day on Facebook, I read a short post written by Pastor Choi Young-ki. Pastor Choi, who retired from ministry, is now dedicated to mentoring House Church ministries in Korea, and he sometimes posts his life and thoughts on Facebook. Although short, the clear writings gain sympathy from many people, and the content of that day’s post was this: Before he sets out to meet someone, he prays for about 5 minutes. He asks for wisdom on what words to share when meeting that person. Before a counseling session, he also prays for 5 minutes, and before making any decision, he prays for a short time of about 5 minutes. Then, surprisingly, in this short prayer time, it seems like God’s voice is heard and wisdom is gained. Although he didn’t use the expression “Divine Pause,” I think this is his own training for the margin. And I think it is a good practice method for us too.
Since meditating on the text, I have lived frequently praying, “Lord, give me Your serenity.” There were still many times when my insides were noisy, but I think I lived enjoying more serenity than before. Fortunately, the mechanic who offered the lowest price fixed the transmission very well, and I am now driving the revived car well. The toothless space where the wind blew through was also filled by making a bridge, and although it’s a bit uncomfortable, I don’t look comical anymore. While taking a breath and having a time of margin, saying, “This too shall pass,” you will find that the things that were causing storms in your heart have become quiet. I bless you that more Divine Pauses are secured in our lives in any way. I bless you that you can be serene rather than noisy inside by learning Jesus’ human relationships and Jesus’ margin. Are you already serene? Then I bless you to be even more intensely serene. And finally, I intensely bless you that you can be most serene even in the most intense moment, just like the Lord. Amen.