The Set Face
Sermon
An Idle Tale Becomes Good News
Messages On Lent And Easter Themes
"He set his face to go to Jerusalem." Looked at in one sense, that is a simple statement about physical movement and direction. But looked at in another sense, it says something also about the intention of his heart, the bent of his soul, the determination of his will.
Persons set their faces toward a great variety of things: a child toward possession of a toy, a youth toward pursuit of an education, an athlete toward excellence in a sport. Faces may be set toward the accumulation of money, the development of a skill, the acquisition of knowledge, the reaching of a position or office, or any number of other ideals or goals.
A Picture Of Purpose
A set face is a picture of purpose. It certifies that one is not a drifter but is moving by virtue of decision and intention.
Leo Tolstoy, in War and Peace, tells of a countess coming to the point where she no longer lives but merely eats, drinks, sleeps, or stays awake. In rapid succession, she loses both her husband and her son in death. The shock is so great that she feels herself accidentally forgotten in this world and left without aim or object for her existence. Tolstoy writes, "Life gave her no new impressions ... Her life had no external aims -- only a need to exercise her various functions and inclinations was apparent."1
That is life void of purpose and therefore without direction. Not to be intent on anything, to be committed to nothing, is to leave one's life without management, with everything left to chance and circumstance.
Theologian Paul Tillich was traveling in Europe in 1936, and he wrote in his diary about a dinner conversation with a certain person in which they discussed psychoanalysis and religion. They talked especially about whether the power to fulfill one's own meaning is inherent in a person. His host, Tillich wrote, held that every human being brings "a program" into the world and that the fulfillment of that program is, at the same time, the fulfillment of the meaning of his or her life.2
Tillich's host may have been right, but it is not too hard to find persons who seem not to have brought "a program" into the world with them, for they are living without purpose. No dream has ever possessed them; no great ideal has ever mastered them.
But that was not true of the Christ with the set face. Turning toward Jerusalem was not a chance act; it was a deliberate decision. He did it because he had made up his mind about some things. He did not drift or just casually move toward Jerusalem. He moved in that direction with conscious intent. He was not a victim of circumstances, but was acting in freedom and independence.
A set face means a set heart, and such is essential to significant achievement. Drifters never put the human race in their debt. It is only those who have set faces who do that.
A Window On Wisdom
It must be recognized, however, that a set face can bring about undesirable consequences. It does not necessarily herald good things, but may forecast evil and harm. All depends upon the direction in which the face is set.
An extreme and tragic illustration of this is the face that is set on self-destruction. Purpose is present, but the purpose is not commendable. A face may be set in the direction of acquisition, with others figuring in one's purpose only as they contribute to what one wants. That is a set face, but can we really call it good?
A set face may indicate simply that a person is stubborn. A determination has been made to go in a certain direction and one is going to do it regardless. Or the set face may be a vindictive face; it is motivated by the desire to "get even" with or to harm another in some way. Jealousy may be a motivating factor, as may prejudice or ambition or greed or lust. Even the desire for a good time can cause one to have a set face. Intent on enjoying oneself, one sets one's face in the direction of what one believes constitutes thrill, excitement, adventure, enjoyment.
A set face then is not to be considered an end in itself. It is important, but it reflects wisdom only if it is set in the right direction. There were many directions in which Jesus could have set his face, and at other times he had set his face in some of those directions. But always he had been motivated by concern for obedience to the will of God and for the best welfare of his fellow human beings.
At this point in his life, that concern pointed him toward Jerusalem. That was why "he set his face to go to Jerusalem." He was not going in the interest of self-promotion of any kind, nor because of resentment or hatred or lust or the desire for a good time. He was going because he believed God wanted him to go.
That means that his set face is for us a window on wisdom, for the will of God never brings one to moral ruin nor to spiritual decay. It always brings one toward personal wholeness and fulfillment, as well as toward the finest contribution it is possible for one to make to others.
A Call To Courage
We should not be under the illusion, though, that the will of God is always something easy, comfortable, peaceful, or enjoyable. It may be and often is like that, but not always nor inevitably. Jesus could have testified to that. It required courage, as well as commitment to the purposes of God, for him to decide to go to Jerusalem at that particular time. He had already read the sign on the road to Jerusalem and knew that it said, "Proceed at your own risk," yet he was determined to proceed. He was not traveling the road of expediency but of conviction and purpose. He knew there was a cross at the end of that road, but he traveled on anyway.
Britisher John Rogers was the first of a "noble army of martyrs" who suffered under Queen Mary in the sixteenth century. His offense was preaching Protestant doctrines. After more than a year of trials and imprisonments, he was finally burned at the stake in February of 1555. His wife and children spoke to him as he passed on the way to the place of execution, encouraging him to steadfastness. A French ambassador who witnessed the scene wrote that Rogers "went to his death as though it had been his wedding."3
The same courage possessed Jesus as he traveled to Jerusalem. Even his disciples were amazed at his courage. The Gospel of Mark tells us, "They were on the road going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was walking ahead of them; they were amazed, and those who followed were afraid" (Mark 10:32). He was not going to a party; he was going to his trial. He was not going to be crowned; he was going to be crucified. There were safer places he could have gone, but they were not the places he believed God wanted him to go. So he went on with a set face, a firm step, a resolute heart.
In 1893, Governor John P. Altgeld of Illinois extended pardon to three men who had been sentenced in connection with the Haymarket labor riots of May 4, 1886. Four others had already been executed, after trials conducted in the midst of public hysteria. Altgeld knew he would be going against public opinion to pardon the men, but he said: "If I decide they are innocent, I will pardon them if I never hold office another day."4
That kind of spirit is a far cry from that of the person who looks carefully down the road of some needed action and sees danger or cost there and decides to take another route. Christ's call is to travel the road of obedience to God regardless of what it may cost.
A Standard For Evaluation
To say this is to be reminded of how prone we are to avoid routes that may appear dangerous or costly. So many times our first question is not, "Is this the will of God?" It is, "What will this cost, in time, in energy, in money, in prestige?" We wonder about the danger that may be involved -- danger to our hopes, dreams, plans, goals. Christ is supposed to be our Example, but when we look at our disloyalty to the will of God in the light of Christ's faithfulness to that will, we have to blush in shame.
Eric Hoffer, the longshoreman philosopher, lost his eyesight when he was a child, but regained it at age fifteen. He never bothered to find out why he became blind or how his sight was restored. Expecting to die before he was fifty, since most Hoffer family members did, he spent ten years of his life as a tramp or hobo. He later wrote, "I went through life like a tourist."5
If you go through life "like a tourist," you can avoid a lot of decisions about the direction in which to set your face. That is drifting, without aim or purpose, but it is no longer discipleship to Jesus Christ. Christ is always the Man with the set face. At whatever point we observe him, we see him moving intentionally, purposefully. And he keeps calling us, too, to deliberate living, intentional choosing of the direction our lives are to take.
But our choices must not cater to our selfishness, or feed our prejudices, or give vent to our resentments. Our determination must not be mere stubbornness or spite or vindictiveness. Our faces must be set on the basis of something other than ambition or greed or lust or pride or the desire for a good time.
Christ's set face is the standard and guide for us. He said once, "My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work" (John 4:34). He lived to do God's will, and when he died it was in the way of obedience to that will. That must be our standard and goal, too. That will not always be easy, but as we seek to do it, we will experience our fullest development, find our truest fulfillment, and realize our greatest usefulness.
It may be that a frequent glance at the Christ with the set face will help to keep us aroused to our responsibilities, committed to the purposes that ought to possess us, and devoted to the God who made and loves us.
____________
1. Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace, Great Books of the Western World edition (Chicago: Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1952), Vol. 51, p. 665.
2. Paul Tillich, My Travel Diary, edited by Jerald C. Brauer (New York, Evanston, and London: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1970), p. 119.
3. Edwin Charles Dargan, A History of Preaching (New York: Hodder & Stoughton and George H. Doran Company, 1905), Vol. I, pp. 484-486.
4. Harry Golden, Carl Sandburg (Greenwich, Connecticut: Fawcett Publications, Inc., 1961), p. 52.
5. Eric Hoffer, Truth Imagined (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1983), p. 2.
Persons set their faces toward a great variety of things: a child toward possession of a toy, a youth toward pursuit of an education, an athlete toward excellence in a sport. Faces may be set toward the accumulation of money, the development of a skill, the acquisition of knowledge, the reaching of a position or office, or any number of other ideals or goals.
A Picture Of Purpose
A set face is a picture of purpose. It certifies that one is not a drifter but is moving by virtue of decision and intention.
Leo Tolstoy, in War and Peace, tells of a countess coming to the point where she no longer lives but merely eats, drinks, sleeps, or stays awake. In rapid succession, she loses both her husband and her son in death. The shock is so great that she feels herself accidentally forgotten in this world and left without aim or object for her existence. Tolstoy writes, "Life gave her no new impressions ... Her life had no external aims -- only a need to exercise her various functions and inclinations was apparent."1
That is life void of purpose and therefore without direction. Not to be intent on anything, to be committed to nothing, is to leave one's life without management, with everything left to chance and circumstance.
Theologian Paul Tillich was traveling in Europe in 1936, and he wrote in his diary about a dinner conversation with a certain person in which they discussed psychoanalysis and religion. They talked especially about whether the power to fulfill one's own meaning is inherent in a person. His host, Tillich wrote, held that every human being brings "a program" into the world and that the fulfillment of that program is, at the same time, the fulfillment of the meaning of his or her life.2
Tillich's host may have been right, but it is not too hard to find persons who seem not to have brought "a program" into the world with them, for they are living without purpose. No dream has ever possessed them; no great ideal has ever mastered them.
But that was not true of the Christ with the set face. Turning toward Jerusalem was not a chance act; it was a deliberate decision. He did it because he had made up his mind about some things. He did not drift or just casually move toward Jerusalem. He moved in that direction with conscious intent. He was not a victim of circumstances, but was acting in freedom and independence.
A set face means a set heart, and such is essential to significant achievement. Drifters never put the human race in their debt. It is only those who have set faces who do that.
A Window On Wisdom
It must be recognized, however, that a set face can bring about undesirable consequences. It does not necessarily herald good things, but may forecast evil and harm. All depends upon the direction in which the face is set.
An extreme and tragic illustration of this is the face that is set on self-destruction. Purpose is present, but the purpose is not commendable. A face may be set in the direction of acquisition, with others figuring in one's purpose only as they contribute to what one wants. That is a set face, but can we really call it good?
A set face may indicate simply that a person is stubborn. A determination has been made to go in a certain direction and one is going to do it regardless. Or the set face may be a vindictive face; it is motivated by the desire to "get even" with or to harm another in some way. Jealousy may be a motivating factor, as may prejudice or ambition or greed or lust. Even the desire for a good time can cause one to have a set face. Intent on enjoying oneself, one sets one's face in the direction of what one believes constitutes thrill, excitement, adventure, enjoyment.
A set face then is not to be considered an end in itself. It is important, but it reflects wisdom only if it is set in the right direction. There were many directions in which Jesus could have set his face, and at other times he had set his face in some of those directions. But always he had been motivated by concern for obedience to the will of God and for the best welfare of his fellow human beings.
At this point in his life, that concern pointed him toward Jerusalem. That was why "he set his face to go to Jerusalem." He was not going in the interest of self-promotion of any kind, nor because of resentment or hatred or lust or the desire for a good time. He was going because he believed God wanted him to go.
That means that his set face is for us a window on wisdom, for the will of God never brings one to moral ruin nor to spiritual decay. It always brings one toward personal wholeness and fulfillment, as well as toward the finest contribution it is possible for one to make to others.
A Call To Courage
We should not be under the illusion, though, that the will of God is always something easy, comfortable, peaceful, or enjoyable. It may be and often is like that, but not always nor inevitably. Jesus could have testified to that. It required courage, as well as commitment to the purposes of God, for him to decide to go to Jerusalem at that particular time. He had already read the sign on the road to Jerusalem and knew that it said, "Proceed at your own risk," yet he was determined to proceed. He was not traveling the road of expediency but of conviction and purpose. He knew there was a cross at the end of that road, but he traveled on anyway.
Britisher John Rogers was the first of a "noble army of martyrs" who suffered under Queen Mary in the sixteenth century. His offense was preaching Protestant doctrines. After more than a year of trials and imprisonments, he was finally burned at the stake in February of 1555. His wife and children spoke to him as he passed on the way to the place of execution, encouraging him to steadfastness. A French ambassador who witnessed the scene wrote that Rogers "went to his death as though it had been his wedding."3
The same courage possessed Jesus as he traveled to Jerusalem. Even his disciples were amazed at his courage. The Gospel of Mark tells us, "They were on the road going up to Jerusalem, and Jesus was walking ahead of them; they were amazed, and those who followed were afraid" (Mark 10:32). He was not going to a party; he was going to his trial. He was not going to be crowned; he was going to be crucified. There were safer places he could have gone, but they were not the places he believed God wanted him to go. So he went on with a set face, a firm step, a resolute heart.
In 1893, Governor John P. Altgeld of Illinois extended pardon to three men who had been sentenced in connection with the Haymarket labor riots of May 4, 1886. Four others had already been executed, after trials conducted in the midst of public hysteria. Altgeld knew he would be going against public opinion to pardon the men, but he said: "If I decide they are innocent, I will pardon them if I never hold office another day."4
That kind of spirit is a far cry from that of the person who looks carefully down the road of some needed action and sees danger or cost there and decides to take another route. Christ's call is to travel the road of obedience to God regardless of what it may cost.
A Standard For Evaluation
To say this is to be reminded of how prone we are to avoid routes that may appear dangerous or costly. So many times our first question is not, "Is this the will of God?" It is, "What will this cost, in time, in energy, in money, in prestige?" We wonder about the danger that may be involved -- danger to our hopes, dreams, plans, goals. Christ is supposed to be our Example, but when we look at our disloyalty to the will of God in the light of Christ's faithfulness to that will, we have to blush in shame.
Eric Hoffer, the longshoreman philosopher, lost his eyesight when he was a child, but regained it at age fifteen. He never bothered to find out why he became blind or how his sight was restored. Expecting to die before he was fifty, since most Hoffer family members did, he spent ten years of his life as a tramp or hobo. He later wrote, "I went through life like a tourist."5
If you go through life "like a tourist," you can avoid a lot of decisions about the direction in which to set your face. That is drifting, without aim or purpose, but it is no longer discipleship to Jesus Christ. Christ is always the Man with the set face. At whatever point we observe him, we see him moving intentionally, purposefully. And he keeps calling us, too, to deliberate living, intentional choosing of the direction our lives are to take.
But our choices must not cater to our selfishness, or feed our prejudices, or give vent to our resentments. Our determination must not be mere stubbornness or spite or vindictiveness. Our faces must be set on the basis of something other than ambition or greed or lust or pride or the desire for a good time.
Christ's set face is the standard and guide for us. He said once, "My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work" (John 4:34). He lived to do God's will, and when he died it was in the way of obedience to that will. That must be our standard and goal, too. That will not always be easy, but as we seek to do it, we will experience our fullest development, find our truest fulfillment, and realize our greatest usefulness.
It may be that a frequent glance at the Christ with the set face will help to keep us aroused to our responsibilities, committed to the purposes that ought to possess us, and devoted to the God who made and loves us.
____________
1. Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace, Great Books of the Western World edition (Chicago: Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1952), Vol. 51, p. 665.
2. Paul Tillich, My Travel Diary, edited by Jerald C. Brauer (New York, Evanston, and London: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1970), p. 119.
3. Edwin Charles Dargan, A History of Preaching (New York: Hodder & Stoughton and George H. Doran Company, 1905), Vol. I, pp. 484-486.
4. Harry Golden, Carl Sandburg (Greenwich, Connecticut: Fawcett Publications, Inc., 1961), p. 52.
5. Eric Hoffer, Truth Imagined (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1983), p. 2.
