a testimony — John 8:12-20 — February 10

Everybody loves a good story.  Some of the most delightful people I know are those who tell stories about themselves, in such a way that doesn’t self-aggrandize, but entertains and, in some cases, even enlightens.

Such was the case with Jesus.  He told good stories, not only about others, as in parables, but also about Himself, as in His testimony in today’s passage:  I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows Me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life (John 8:12).  This was said, not in a way which amplified Himself, but amplified God and the truth of His Word.  For when challenged by those who thought these words were simple pride, Jesus responded, I testify on My own behalf, and the Father Who sent Me testifies on My behalf  (John 8:18). Because of His relationship with the Father, Who had earlier testified about Jesus saying, You are my Son, the Beloved; with You I am well pleased  (Luke 3:22), Jesus could simply say of His testimony, My testimony is valid because I know where I have come from and where I am going (John 8:14).

Could you say this of yourself, and of Jesus?  Can you honestly say “Jesus is the light of the world.  As I follow Him I will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life”?  And, though challenged by those who have known you well enough to know your faults and failures, could you still say “my testimony is valid because I know where I have come from and where I am going”?  This is what Jesus promises for those who follow Him.  Because of Him, they will have a testimony, a wonderful story of how He has brought them out of darkness into His marvelous light, such that they know where they came from and where they are going, with Him.

So take up your story, your testimony.  Learn to tell it well, that others may not only see the good you do, but give glory to the One who has made it all possible.  And, if you don’t have this testimony yet, come to Jesus the Light today, that He might replace your darkness with His Light.

the crisis — John 8:1-11 — February 9

Years ago, a young man was in a quandary about this passage.  An American Jew by birth, but long since an atheist by profession, Arthur Katz had led a tumultuous life in the span of little more than two decades.  But now, as told in his biography, Ben Israel, Arthur was being drawn to the person and power of Jesus.  As the last stop in a desperate search for meaning, he had begun reading the gospel of John, and was tremendously impressed with Jesus.  He had been brought up knowing Jesus as a name or a character, but not as a real person.  But as he read on, Arthur was brought face-to-face with Jesus’ compassion, convictions, and spotless character.  It seemed as if the God of his youth was drawing him in through this Jesus, described in John as God in the flesh.  Was it possible that this atheistic Jew would find the answer to life’s meaning and purpose in this Jesus?

But with this passage, Jesus dealing with the woman caught in adultery, Arthur was faced with a crisis.  As he read the story of the adulterous woman being dragged before Jesus, and Jesus being challenged either to exercise judgment by stoning a sin worthy of death, or to exercise mercy by pardoning what should have been unpardonable, Arthur was dismayed.  He could read no further, in that he felt that, somehow, Jesus would either end up as the embodiment of the vengeful God of his childhood, or the expression of the permissive God of his lifestyle.  He couldn’t bear to see Jesus reduced to this either-or, and so, for several weeks, he stopped reading, until his curiosity got the better of him.

He saw Jesus bend down, starting to write something on the ground with his finger (John 8:6B).  As the questions kept coming, from Jesus’ accusers, and from Arthur himself, Jesus straightened up and said to them (to the teachers of the law, to the Pharisees, to Arthur, and to you and me) let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone (John 8:7).  Arthur was stunned, as were Jesus’ accusers, as should we be.  In a single stroke, Jesus upholds the justice of the law, which, as He said, He came not to abolish, but to fulfill (Matthew 5:17).  The woman’s sin, theirs, yours and mine, are and forever will be worthy of God’s judgment and, cumulatively, of death, eternal separation from God.  As such, we have no right to judge anyone, including ourselves.  That prerogative belongs to God alone.  For Arthur Katz, who knew he was a sinner in God’s sight (if there was a God), this was somehow Good News: that his actions matter, even if they matter negatively in the cosmic scheme of things.  Jesus indeed seemed to embody the truth and justice of God’s law.  But then Arthur read on, after each of the accusers dropped their stones and departed, and heard Jesus say to the woman, Neither do I condemn you.  Go your way, and from now on do not sin again (John 8:11).  Here was that mercy that Arthur had also seen, a mercy which didn’t condone sin, but forgave it, all the while calling a rejection of it in living a new way of life.  It was shortly thereafter that Arthur gave control of his tortured life to this Jesus, who was truthful enough to identify the sin that had tortured it, forgave the one who lived it, and gave power to live anew.

Today, as you ponder this passage, and the God Who is revealed in it, may you have the same crisis.  May Jesus cause you again to be dismayed over the horror of your sin, and yet transformed by the wonder of His mercy, so that you indeed go on your way today, to sin no more.  And may you, like Jesus, live in this way which may cause such a saving crisis in the life of another.

To whom can we go — John 6:60-72 — February 4

Now the dispute which was noted in yesterday’s post gets personal.  It comes to many of Jesus’ own disciples, who said of Jesus’ words about consuming His flesh and blood, this teaching is difficult; who can accept it? (John 6:60).  Like the others who were not (yet) His followers, these disciples were complaining and offended.  And, just as it seemed from John’s describing the issue as a “dispute”, an argument that points to a deeper disagreement, Jesus indicated that this complaining by many of His disciples was a sign that among [them] there [were] some who did not believe.  For Jesus knew from the first who were the ones that did not believe, and who was the one that would betray Him (John 6:64).  It was a crisis of believe, such that, ultimately, many of His disciples turned back and no longer went about with Him (John 6:66).

I find it hard when church members leave the church to join a church elsewhere, but at least I find comfort that they seem to be continuing to follow Jesus (and yet, the track record of leaving one church for another often includes leaving the new church for yet another, and another…).  However, I’m distressed when followers of Jesus seem to stop following Him altogether: no worship, no fellowship, no study, no prayer, no mission for God.  And, just like those who move to another church, those who seem to stop moving altogether generally point to either a dispute, or a complaint, or something or someone that offended them.  The result in their case, however, is that in ceasing to follow Jesus actively they are in danger of losing the Life that Jesus has offered them.

So if you are in such a state, or are contemplating giving up on Jesus, or even on His people, consider the question Jesus asked Peter, as if He’s directing it to you:  do you also with to go away? (John 6:67).  And consider Peter’s answer, as if it’s the logical conclusion which I pray you will come to:  Lord, to whom can we go?  You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe and know that You are the Holy One of God (John 6:68-69).  If not Jesus, embodied in His people, then to whom will you go?

The dispute — John 6:52-59 — February 3

When you hear about a “dispute”, normally you think about an argument, but an argument of a particular type.  For example, a dispute about property boundaries, or about wages, or about an election indicates a disagreement that has a deeper meaning, such as, in these cases about land ownership, income level, or public service.  It’s as if the specific dispute isn’t the real argument.  The real issue is the one that lies behind it.

And so in today’s passage, the dispute is about this admittedly repulsive (at least in its literal sense) admonition that we eat the flesh of the Son of Man [Jesus] and drink His blood (John 6:53).  It would be enough if Jesus’ hearers indicated their abhorrence at this prospect.  But John points out that they disputed among themselves (John 6:52).  Among them were those who felt that this Jesus was a fraud, a deception, a blasphemer.  On this basis they would find a way to condemn Him to death, thinking that He was advocating idolatry, a death of true faith.  But also among them were those who were beginning to believe that Jesus was the Source of Life in the Father.  On this basis they would part company with the others, and become faithful followers of Israel’s, and the world’s, Messiah.  So the dispute really wasn’t about cannibalism; it was about faith in Jesus as Messiah and Lord.  Some were beginning to see it, such that they could understand the metaphorical concept of “eating and drinking”; others were becoming blinded to it, such that they only understood the surface of His words, finding them unapproachable.

So, as you think about your relationship with God, consider if there are any disputes which you are having with Him, or with others about Him.  It may be about the course of events in your life or that of someone you love; it may be about a particular doctrine or Scripture that you find difficult to take (such as this selection); or it may be about a particular follower or leader in the church who has upset you.  Consider if this dispute is really what you’re upset about, or whether it really has to do with your relationship with Jesus Himself, whether you really believe Him to be the Source of Life or not.  And, on that basis, bring your dispute to Him; don’t keep it to yourself or among yourselves.  Come to Him, disputes and all, that you might not die with your dispute, but might live.

complaint department — John 6:41-51 — February 2

Some of you readers may be old enough to remember the “complaint department”.  Many stores had a place where customers could call or visit to express their complaints about a particular purchase, get a refund or an exchange, etc.  Now these places are called “customer service center”, and with good reason.  Can you imagine the joyless environment in serving in a “complaint department”, spending your entire day in an environment whose very name welcomed complaints and other manifestations of negativity?  And, frankly, in these years since those “complaint departments”, it appears to this writer as if the level of complaining and crabbing in our culture has gotten far worse.  The appalling lack of civility when dealing with problems in commerce, relationships, and even religion is manifested on every side.  I wonder where this development has come from?

The words of Jesus in today’s reading are worth noting:  do not complain among yourselves (John 6:43).  No doubt, Jesus would wish that we wouldn’t complain so much.  In fact, we are told throughout the Scriptures to rejoice, to give thanks, as in the teachings of Paul:  Rejoice in the Lord, always; again, I say, rejoice (Philippians 4:4); whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things (Philippians 4:8).

But the key here is that we not complain among ourselves. There is a certain kind of evil which is unleashed when we complain to one another, but not in a way which helps us to deal with that which is causing us to complain.  Like when we gossip about someone else who has hurt or bothered us, instead of obeying Jesus’ command that we go to that person to point out the fault, privately (Matthew 18:15).  Or like when we complain about a situation at work, but fail to do anything ourselves to try to remedy the problem.  Or like when we have a basic complaint against God about the course of our life, but fail to address Him directly.  This kind of complaining among ourselves is what the Bible calls “grumbling”, the murmur of discontent which is not going to help anyone, and least of all ourselves.  In fact, there are severe warnings against this behavior in the Scriptures:  do not complain as some of them did, and were destroyed by the destroyer (1 Corinthians 10:10).  In this complaining culture, we are to go against the flow of crabbing.  When we have a complaint, we are to bring it to the ones with whom we have that complaint (including God) or, perhaps better, we are to bring that complaint to God first, as He may show us that our complaining comes out of self rather than truth, or He may direct us to an honestly loving way of dealing with it, that all may benefit.

So today, do an “attitude check”.  Are you a complainer?  Is it doing any good for you and for others?  Allow God to show you the way, so that you and others won’t be destroyed by being in the complaint department.

what to do? — John 6:27-40 — February 1

One of life’s basic questions is, “what should I do?”  From the moment we take our first breath to the hour we take our last, we are constantly making choices of what to do.  From the time we begin to ponder our future — where should I live? whom should I marry? what occupation should I pursue? — we are constantly asking ourselves and others what we should do?  Throughout our life, as circumstances change, whether for good or for ill, we ask, “what should I do?”  This becomes particularly acute when we add God to the equation, in that we want to do not only what will be good for us, but also what will be pleasing to God.

And so, Jesus hearers asked Him, what must we do to perform the works of God? (John 6:28).  These are the people who had been following Jesus, inquiring after Him on one side of the Sea of Galilee, now the other.  Jesus had indicated that their search might have been for their own benefit, wanting to see and receive the “produce” of miracles like the feeding of the thousands.  And so they reverse field, asking Him what they might do in order to be doing what God wanted.

Jesus’ response seems too simple:  this is the work of God, that you believe in Him Whom He has sent (John 6:29).  Just believe?  What about elsewhere, where He sums of the commandments by urging us to love God and love others?  What about the time when He tells tax-collectors to collect no more than is their due, or tells soldiers not to extort money?  Where’s the actions here?  All of us know many people who purportedly “believe”, and yet their lives seem far from “doing the works of God”.

And yet, if faith is real, it will issue forth in actions.  The book of James, which tells us that faith without works is dead, is spot on.  I suppose it has to do with what Jesus means by “believe”.  He’s speaking here not just of an intellectual assent to the existence of God, nor to a credal confidence in His being the One sent by God, but an offering of oneself to Him in ultimate trust, the kind which transforms life from the inside out.  When one “believes” in this sense, St. Augustine’s advice can become real as well:  ”love God and do as you please”.

So what’s your level of belief?  Could it be said of you and me, in terms of not only our intentions, but also our actions, that we truly believe in Jesus, the One sent by God to transform us and the world around us?

This day, ask Jesus that He might send you His Holy Spirit, so that you can truly believe, and truly do the works of God.

in the boat — John 6:16-27 — January 30

It was late winter / early spring of 1973.  I was in college, an agnostic who was seeking God.  Brought up in a nominally Christian home, I had long ago jettisoned any sense that Christianity held anything more than sentimental or museum value.  But for some reason, over the year prior, God had recaptured my attention.  I was a hungry soul, seeking some kind of life with “God”, who or whatever that was.  I explored Judaism, wondering if perhaps the deep spirituality which I found in the conservative temple I began attending might hold the key.  And yet, there was something about Jesus that kept drawing me.

Through a series of what I now know to be God-inspired coincidences, I found myself in more-or-less daily conversation with some followers of Jesus who worked in theater arts with me.  They gave me a Bible, and encouraged me to read the Gospel of John.  I was enthralled by the Jesus I had never really known.

And then I got to this passage, selected today.  As I read the story of the disciples on the sea, struggling against the wind and the waves to get to the other side of the lake, it somehow seemed as if that described my life.  Like them, I had a good life, some useful skills, but there was this yearning for something more, something which seemed to have God or Jesus attached.  They, and I, couldn’t quite figure Him out.  Though I, and they, were aware of a need for God, and for Jesus, we didn’t quite know how to get there, and felt strong opposition to finding the way.  That is, until the story mentioned His coming to them on the water, such that they were terrified.

Only days before, I had an experience reading the Bible which terrified me.  Sitting alone in my room, I sensed a powerful Presence in the room with me, observing me reading the Bible.  I had been raised to believe that there were five senses, and no more; this world, and no other.  I sensed Something beyond, that was seeking me, and it freaked me out, such that I left my room, fearful of reading the Bible any more.   I fully identified with the disciples’ terror.

And yet, like them, I wanted to take Him into the boat, into my life, and noted that, as they did so, immediately the boat reached the land toward which they were going (John 6:21).  Was it possible that if, somehow, Jesus could come into my insides, into the very place where I lived, that I might at last find the way to which I was going?  For the first time, it seemed as if the Bible was speaking to me; was it possible that God was speaking to me through the Bible?  Was it possible that God wanted me “in” to me, as much as I wanted “in” to Him?

I asked my friends whether this was a good way to understand the Bible.  They played it cool, indicating a polite “yes”, and then set to work privately and passionately, praying for me, that I might give myself to Jesus, and allow Him to give Himself to me.  It was a short time later, on Palm Sunday of that year, that I finally did invite Jesus into my “boat” and, as they say, He has floated my boat ever since or, as the Scripture seemed to promise, He and I reached the land toward which I was going.

So, dear reader, if you’ve never invited Jesus into your boat, please do so now.  If you’d like to discuss this further with me, send me a comment, or an email, and I can offer you that same encouragement to make that invitation to Jesus right away, even now, so that you, too, can begin going places with Him.

what are they? — John 6:1-15 — January 29

What are they?

The usual question, asked of Jesus, the Son of God.  What are these five barley loaves and two fish, when compared with so many hungry people (John 6:9)?

What are they?

The deeper question, also asked of Jesus, the Son of God.  What are these people, this “large crowd” coming toward Him, “these people” who need to eat, “so many people” who are more than we can manage (John 6:5,9)?

As soon as we begin to ask these kinds of questions, we get way off track with God.  Philip’s question was a rhetorical one: it had an anticipated response, which should have been “you’re right, we can’t do anything for these people.”  There is this scarcity principle that often operates among people who trust in the Lord.  And indeed, of ourselves, as even Jesus said in John 5:30, we can do nothing.  But with God, as Jesus would later say, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26).

So our first question in any situation, particularly the difficult ones, should rather be, “where are You, Lord?”, in this situation, in these people, in these resources.  For once Philip, and the other disciples, listened to the Lord Jesus, amazing things began to happen with those very limited resources, such that everyone, including the crowd, the disciples, and Jesus, was satisfied.

As you face challenges today, such as very limited resources, ask Jesus where He is, and then look for what and who He has already provided, and act, trusting in Him, not in circumstances.

a true testimony — John 5:30-47 — January 28

Every day, we’re bombarded with testimonies: how do we know whether or not they’re true?

Advertisers put testimonies in front of our eyes and ears about the value of a product or service.  Some are even said to be “actual testimonies” of regular people telling us their unrehearsed story.  And yet, the slant is clear: it’s the advertiser giving testimony to itself and, more often than not, such a testimony isn’t true.  Jesus referred to this when He said, if I testify about Myself, My testimony is not true. (John 5:31).

So how do we know that the testimony about Jesus as Savior of the world is true?  Jesus goes on:  There is Another who testifies on my behalf, and I know that His testimony to Me is true (John 5:32).  Recalling His baptism, Jesus refers to the Voice of the Father, saying to Him then, and repeatedly, You are my Son, my Beloved, with You I am well pleased. He then refers to John, the Baptist, who testified to the truth, Jesus (John 5:33).  He also refers to the testimony of those who benefited from the works of power and mercy which Jesus did (john 5:36).  And finally, He refers to the Scriptures which, though they are not themselves the source of life, nonetheless witness and point to the Source of Life, Jesus (John 5:39).  From this multiplicity of witnesses, I and countless others have come to know that Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life, the Savior of the world and my life, in particular.

Have you accepted this testimony?  Do you believe that Jesus is true?  Will you add your testimony to these so that others may come to believe as well?

subservience — John 5:19-29 — January 27

There is such a striking tone to Jesus’ words in this section of John’s gospel.  I’m calling it subservience.  Notice how Jesus, God the Son, in the flesh, points to the Father in what He says here:  the Son can do nothing on His own, but only what He sees the Father doing (John 5:19); the Father loves the Son and shows Him all that He Himself is doing (John 5:20); just as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whomever He wishes (John 5:21).  Jesus doesn’t claim glory for Himself, but attributes it all to the Father.  His attitude reminds me of John the Baptist, who constantly pointed, not to himself, but to Jesus, the One Who would come after Him and Who, eventually, supplanted him.  In medieval paintings, John is always depicted pointing to Jesus.  It appears as if Jesus is always pointing to the Father, as the Source of Life for Him and for all, the One Whom He came to represent, and to connect with a sinful race like ours.

And yet, in the words that follow, Jesus speaks of the Father doing likewise to the Son:  The Father judges no one, but has given all judgment to the Son, so that all may honor the Son just as they honor the Father.  Anyone who does not honor the Son does not honor the Father who sent Him (John 5:22-23); for just as the Father has life in Himself, so He has granted the Son also to have life in Himself, and He has given Him authority to execute judgment, because He is the Son of Man (John 5:26-27).  The Father of all seems to display this same “subservience”, if you will, when it comes to His relationship with the Son.  And, as we’ll see later in John’s gospel, in chapter 17, the same subservience will be true of God the Holy Spirit.

So, as we consider this attitude of God — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — will you and I display the same attitude in our dealings with others, and with God, today?  Here in Nativity Church we call this being “confessional”, acknowledging our brokenness, our smallness, our need for God and for others in order to be well.  No triumphalism is ours, particularly if such is not demonstrated by God in His dealings within Himself, and, in a sense, in His dealings with us.  As others see this “subservient” attitude in us, perhaps it will help them to see the God Who, though He is indeed Lord and Judge of all, is nonetheless the world’s Lover and Savior, dying for us and for all that we might have His Life in us.

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, Who, though He was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a salve, being born in human likeness.  And being found in human form, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death–even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:5-8)