by John Mason | Apr 23, 2014 | Word on Wednesday
Death is not something we usually bring up in everyday conversation. It’s not polite. Some may recall Woody Allen’s words: “I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work… I want to achieve it through not dying”. Yet death is the certainty we all face, which is why literature, film and philosophy so often dwell upon themes of our mortality. But it’s rare that anyone claims they can do anything about it – death is taken as an inevitability.
But does death need to be the end of life?
Life had been heating up for Jesus in Jerusalem in the weeks before his arrest and crucifixion – the Jewish leaders had attempted to stone him (John 10:31) for his apparent blasphemy. So he left the city for the region east of the Jordan river. There he learned that his friend Lazarus, brother of Martha and Mary, was dying in the village of Bethany, near Jerusalem.
Learning that Lazarus had died, and against the advice of his disciples who feared the Jewish leaders, Jesus returned to Bethany where he was met by Martha. In the course of talking with her he made this amazing assertion:
“I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die” ( John 11:25).
It’s important we notice what Jesus was saying. He didn’t say, ‘I promise resurrection and life’, or ‘I procure’, or even ‘I bring resurrection.’ He said, ‘I am the resurrection and the life.’ Unless he is one with God, he is the worst charlatan of all.
Pointing out the options we have about Jesus, C.S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity: “Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon; or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”
The witness of Jesus’ own resurrection and the New Testament, the evidence of history and the existence of the Christian church, all point to the conclusion that Jesus’ words are the truth. Dr. John Lennox, Professor of Mathematics at Oxford University, has said in a recent article that can be found at the Australian national broadcaster (the ABC): “The Christian gospel is based squarely on a miracle. It was the miracle of the resurrection of Christ that started it going, and that same miracle is its central message.”
The question that Jesus put to Martha at the time of Lazarus’ death, he puts to us today: “Do you believe this?” If you do believe this, what change has this made to your relationship with Jesus? How will this affect your life including conversations with people you meet at work and in the wider community?
A prayer for Easter: Almighty God, you have conquered death through your dearly beloved Son Jesus Christ and have opened to us the gate of everlasting life: grant us by your grace to set our mind on things above, so that by your continual help our whole life may be transformed; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit in everlasting glory. Amen. (Book of Common Prayer, Easter Day)
by John Mason | Apr 16, 2014 | Word on Wednesday
Everyone has regrets. We regret words we let fly in haste; the opportunities we missed or messed up; the relationships we let slip and the ones that we should never have begun. There are all those past actions for which ‘redemption’ seems impossible. Arthur Miller, the playwright, put it this way, ‘Maybe all one can do, is hope to end up with the right regrets.’
A woman at a well in Samaria whom Jesus encountered long ago, would have agreed. Like most of us, she longed for happiness, but happiness had eluded her. Five failed marriages testified to that. Hoping that love and marriage would give her life meaning and happiness, she had thought each new man was Mr. Right. But each time she made the same mistake. Her life was a mess. She felt insecure, lonely, and dissatisfied.
Jesus, we learn, was doing something unusual for a Jewish man: he was traveling through Samaria. We read about it in John 4:1-42. He transgressed social taboos – he was a Jew speaking with a Samaritan; and what’s more, he, a man, was having a private conversation with a woman in public. But clearly Jesus was not bothered by social custom. He spoke then, as he speaks to you and me today, with equal concern and equal respect.
Asking the woman for water, he gently directed her to the subject he wanted her to consider – the subject of living water. This gave him the opportunity to touch on the regrets in her life. Through this conversation we begin to see that Jesus offers us water of such vitality that it satisfies our deep inner spiritual thirst.
‘How does he do this?’ we ask. In his conversation with the woman that day, Jesus was anticipating the events of the first Good Friday, his death by crucifixion, which later writers went on to explain. So, Paul the Apostle, in his Letter to the Galatians tells us: Christ died for our sins (1:4). Jesus did not die simply to reveal God’s love for us. Rather he died to make the one, perfect and sufficient sacrifice for all our sins.
The New Testament is consistent and insistent that Jesus is the answer to the regrets and emptiness that gnaw our souls.
- Most of us aren’t willing to admit such a reality, and the woman that day was no exception. We pretend everything is all right, but truth be told, we all live a lot closer to despair than we like to think. We activate all kinds of defense mechanisms against anything that threatens to expose our inward spiritual poverty. Deep down we have a real spiritual longing. If we are going to find Jesus’ answer to our regrets we have to be willing to acknowledge our need and turn afresh to only one who can rescue us.
As the hymn-writer, William R. Newell put it:
Mercy there was great, and grace was free;
Pardon there was multiplied to me;
There my burdened soul found liberty, At Calvary.
by John Mason | Apr 9, 2014 | Word on Wednesday
No one likes failure. You may never have experienced it, but it happens, even to the smartest and wisest of people – physicians when they see a patient die knowing they might have done better; Wall Street brokers when they give bad advice to their clients. And, while we may find it hard to acknowledge, too often we fail those we love most. If we have a conscience, we are embarrassed. A sense of failure can wound us deeply.
As another Easter season is upon us it is worth taking a moment to consider the failure of two of Jesus’ close followers – Judas and Peter.
Judas. We read in John’s Gospel that six days before the Passover Jesus and his followers had dinner with their friends, Martha, Mary and Lazarus. During the meal Mary broke open a jar of very expensive perfume oil and poured it over Jesus’ feet. Judas’s response was to ask, ‘Why wasn’t the perfume sold and the money given to the poor?’ John tells us that Jesus said this, ‘not because he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief (John 12:6).’
Judas’ concern for the poor was hypocritical, for underneath he was a greedy man. And that is why his love for Jesus proved to be conditional. That’s why his kiss at the Passover meal turned out to be treacherous, for he was the kind of follower who supported Jesus as long as he thought there was something in it for him. When Judas saw that Jesus was not fulfilling his expectations he cast him off.
Judas had a choice. He had been a privileged follower of Jesus, but at the end of three years he chose to reject him. His decision was his own, not mechanistically predetermined. The other Gospel writers tell us that later, realizing what he had done, he was filled with self-pity and committed suicide.
Peter’s problem was pride. Luke tells us that Peter denied Jesus three times and at the third denial the rooster crowed. At that, Jesus turned and looked across at Peter (Luke 22:61). What was in that look of Jesus – reproach, disappointment, dismissal? I suspect it was love – love for a failure.
Luke tells us that Peter went out and wept bitterly. His tears weren’t those of a sulky child, or a romantic, wanting to relieve overwrought emotion. His tears were those of a penitent who is honest about failure and desires to turn and follow the right course. Seeing Jesus’ look he was both humbled and repentant.
Judas and Peter. Let me ask: How do you intend to cope with failure? We’ve all disappointed the Lord – betrayed him, turned our backs on him – sometimes for many years. We may have sold him for silver, a career, or a relationship. There may have been times when we’ve denied him and said we don’t know him.
The test is not the dimension of our sin, but our response to failure – self-pity or repentance? God does not forgive remorse but he does forgive the repentant heart.
A prayer of confession: Almighty and most merciful God, I have gone my own way, not loving you as I ought, nor loving my neighbors as I should. I have done what I ought not to have done, and I have not done what I ought to have done. I justly deserve your condemnation. Father, forgive me. Turn my heart to love and obey your will. Strengthen me by your Spirit to live and work for your glory, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
by John Mason | Apr 2, 2014 | Word on Wednesday
Television news loves to capture the tears of grieving people. News editors are aware that other people’s tragedies capture our attention: we are drawn to tragedy and catastrophe as long as it doesn’t affect us.
Jesus’ tears. Considering the way that news editors want to capture tears, it is striking that Luke records Jesus’ tears as he entered the city of Jerusalem on the first ‘Palm Sunday’. Luke uses a word for deep sorrow: As Jesus came near and saw the city, he wept over it… (19:41).
Earlier in his narrative Luke records Jesus’ moving lament over Jerusalem: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather you together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing” (13:34).
Jerusalem was much in Jesus’ thoughts: he knew he would die there. But his lament and his tears were not for himself. Rather, they are a vivid image of his extraordinary compassion for God’s ancient people. It was a unique opportunity for them to meet with divinity, personally.
Paradise lost. Men and women do not perish because God is just an angry God, as the movie NOAH would have us think. We only have ourselves to blame. ‘I would have gathered you as a hen would gather her chicks’, Jesus said, ‘but you were not willing.’ He may be saying the same about some of us as we read this. He offers us joy, but we casually turn our backs. He weeps with sadness, but we harden our hearts. He gives us his promise, but we confidently carry on. ‘You can choose’, Jesus says.
Knowing Jesus. Let me ask, how seriously do you treat Jesus? How well do you know him? As you prepare for Good Friday and Easter have you considered setting aside time to read Luke’s narrative of Jesus’ death and resurrection (19:41-24:53)? You may find it useful to have a readable commentary with you (at the risk of a personal reference, my commentary, Reading Luke Today: An Unexpected God is available online through Matthiasmedia (USA) – http://www.matthiasmedia.com/growth/commentaries/ or Amazon – www.amazon.com.)
Jesus wept for the lost, but he also acted. So seriously did he take our plight that he sacrificed his life for us at Calvary.
We do not have to die to reconcile people to God: Jesus has done that for us all. But what of the lost of our age? Have you ever wept for your family, friends, your community, even enemies? In every age, God’s people have.
Do you pray for family and friends? Do you look for opportunities to talk with them about the Easter story? Do you ever comment on Jesus’ words on the cross, ‘Father, forgive them,’ and ‘Today you will be with me in paradise’? And, do you long to explore with them the way Jesus’ resurrection validates all he said and did, as well as his promises about paradise restored?
by John Mason | Mar 27, 2014 | Word on Wednesday
Darren Aronofsky’s long-planned film, NOAH, is invading movie theatres everywhere this week. A high budget movie, it picks up and develops, with a deal of latitude, the biblical epic of the flood (Genesis 6:9-9:17). One of the big questions that will surface is, ‘Did it happen?’
Just another myth? The story of a flood has been passed down from ancient times in many cultures. Indeed, because it is found in Mesopotamia, Greece, and in North America, Central and South America, as well as the Bible, it is dismissed as a myth from the past – perhaps linked to a creation story, or the fiction of the action of an angry god (or gods).
Furthermore, there are practical questions such as, ‘Where did all the water come from?’ and ‘How could the ark contain all the animals?’
Some brief responses come to mind. While the Mesopotamian story is undoubtedly old, it is reasonable to point out that the biblical narrative is older – predating all other flood accounts. As to the question concerning the amount of water needed, we should note that significant volcanic and tsunami activity could have been involved producing the catastrophic event the Bible describes. And, as for the size of the ark, various calculations conclude that it was a large ship, possibly even nearing the size of the Titanic.
However, perhaps the biggest question of all is, ‘If there is a God, would he do such a thing?’
For me, a helpful way of responding to this question is to ask whether Jesus of Nazareth said anything about the flood. After all, we know that Jesus lived and that he had a high view of the Bible. Yes, he does refer to Noah. In Luke 17:26f we read: Just as it was in the days of Noah, so will it be in the days of the Son of Man. They were eating and drinking and marrying and being given in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark, and the flood came and destroyed them all.
Jesus was saying that there will be a day would come when God’s King will come as judge. It is a day to be feared, for all of us will be brought before him. We live in a moral universe. Significantly, Jesus cited Noah and the flood as an example of the way God calls us all to account. We learn from Genesis that Noah was not a virtuous man, but he did believe God’s warnings about the coming crisis and acted accordingly. What is important for us here is that Jesus regarded Noah as a historical figure and treated the event of the flood as a reality. Just as the flood occurred, just as Jesus’ predictions about his own death and resurrection, and the fall of Jerusalem were fulfilled, so too will there come a day when he returns in all his glory.
Is it all true? G.K. Chesterton once remarked, ‘Truth is stranger than fiction.’ And Heraclitus, a philosopher of the ancient Greek world, taught, ‘Unless you expect the unexpected you will never find truth, for it is hard to discover and hard to attain.’
Our danger today is the same as it was at the time of Noah. The people then were so taken up with their own lives, so proud of their achievements, that they forgot they were but creatures and rejected the reality of God. Consequently only a few in Noah’s day were saved. If only they had been humble enough to turn back to God while they had time (17:26f).
Jesus’ reference to Noah and the flood is a chilling reminder that we ignore God at our peril.
