No one likes failure. You may not have experienced it, but it happens, even to the smartest of people. We can experience failure when we let others down or when we fail to meet our own expectations. It can happen in unexpected moments when we like to feel we are in control. In whatever form it takes, none of us likes to feel a failure. We are embarrassed and it can wound us deeply.

Departure. Come with me to the scene that John records of Jesus’ closing hours with his disciples on the eve of his crucifixion. There is an air of gloom as Jesus tells them he is going away (John 13).

In verse 33 we read Jesus’ words:  Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come…’

Grief. The idea of Jesus going away left them grief-stricken. Over three years they had come to see that he is God incarnate. It was all too much for Peter: “Lord, where are you going?” he said. To which Jesus answered, “Where I am going, you cannot follow me now; but you will follow afterward.” Peter said to him, “Lord, why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.”

Peter’s plea is like that of a distressed child: ‘Why can’t I come with you now?’ And, next moment, he insisted that only over his dead body would anything happen to Jesus. Clearly Peter was devoted to Jesus. His grief-stricken response is understandable. But let’s think about his words, “…I will lay down my life for you.”

It was not long since Jesus had said that he was the Good Shepherd who would lay down his life for the sheep (John 10:11). To ensure that everyone had heard him, he had said it again (John 10:15-18). And now that the time had come, ironically Peter was saying said he wanted to reverse the roles: “I will lay down my life for you”. I wonder if there was the suggestion of a smile on Jesus’ lips as he replied, ‘Will you really?’

At first Peter’s words seem courageous. However, they reveal his underlying pride. His response is similar to his words a little earlier when he had said to Jesus who was about to wash his feet: “You will never wash my feet”. To which Jesus had responded: “Unless I wash you, you will have no share with me” (John 13:8).

Pride. Clearly Peter had not understood the import of these words. And now, the ever-impetuous Peter, still prideful, was saying: ‘I won’t let you die for me Jesus. I’m not like the others’. Jesus’ response is gentle, but clear: ‘Peter, courageous though you may think you are, a time will come shortly when you will need to let someone else do for you what you can’t do. You will have to accept someone else’s generosity. You can’t put yourself in my debt.’

This is important. Jesus owes none of us anything. We are the ones who are totally dependent on him for his charity. Devastating though it may be for our egos, we need to get to the point where we are willing to see it that way.

Pride is the one passion Jesus won’t allow his disciples to have, not least on the eve of Good Friday. Nor will he allow anyone of us to have such pride.

Jesus’ warning to Peter is prophetic: “I tell you the truth, the cock will not crow, till you have denied me three times” (John 13:38). And before dawn, Peter did deny Jesus three times. As we read elsewhere, Peter came to grieve with deep sorrow and self-reproach. This proud disciple came to despise his cowardice and turn in heartfelt repentance to the Lord.

Christ Alone. Peter had to learn the hard lesson we all have to learn. Jesus doesn’t love us because we are faithful to him, let alone prepared to die for him. He loves us in spite of all our failures. Our allegiance to him must be based on this. It’s humbling and it hurts, but there’s no other way.

There will be times when we are like Peter. We don’t want to give in to Jesus. And there may also be times when we feel that others are so much more spiritual than we are. But remember this: Jesus is not impressed by super-spirituality.

He knows there are those who like to give the impression that they are first-class followers. They talk about their spiritual experiences, or their certainty of the Lord’s leading them to do this or to do that. They are always active, doing ‘Christian’ work. But Jesus knows when this is done to impress others.

Jesus urges everyone who would follow him to trust him – as we see in the opening words of John 14: “Let not your hearts be troubled, believe in God, believe also me”, he says.

Humility and Trust. ‘Trust me Peter’, Jesus insists. ‘Before the next twenty-four hours are over, you will all feel failures. But your faithlessness won’t mean the end of everything. ‘The faith, or trust, that I am talking about is not based upon on what you can do for me, but rather in what I alone can do for you.’

It’s easy for some of us to be like impetuous, proud Peter. But we should never forget the wisdom and prophecy of The Book of Proverbs: Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall… (16:18-19).

Jesus urges us to learn the lesson of humility and believe in God. We can be very confident that he is committed to us, no matter what. The events of the first Good Friday and Easter Day assure us that this is true.

Towards the end of his finest book, The Cross of Christ, John Stott draws from the playlet, ‘The Long Silence’. At the end of time billions of people are found in the presence of God’s throne. While the majority stand back against the brilliant light, various groups at the front are listing their complaints against God. ‘How can God judge us?’ they ask. ‘How can he know about suffering?’

Having assembled their complaint, representatives of the various groups meet – someone from Auschwitz, an African American, an abused woman, someone from Hiroshima, a thalidomide child, and many others. On reaching agreement, they presented their case that before God could be qualified to judge, he must endure what they endured: God should be sentenced to live on earth as a man. ‘…Let him be betrayed, face false charges, be tried by a prejudiced jury and convicted by a cowardly judge. Let him be tortured and die, horribly and alone…’

With these thoughts in mind come with me to the Gospel of John. In the course of his public ministry, John records, Jesus spoke of his hour. When Mary asked Jesus to do something about the need for wine at a wedding in Cana (John 2:1-11), he replied that his hour had not yet come. Later on, he said it again (John 7:20 and 8:30). But in John 12:23, when Philip and Andrew reported that some Greeks wanted to meet Jesus, a turning point came. It was then that he said: “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified”.

Suffering. It would be through Jesus’ death that God’s kingdom would be open to all who believe in him (Jesus) – Greeks (the non-Jewish world) as well as Jewish people. Twice more, when he was with his disciples in the upper room, Jesus spoke of the time having come for him to depart this world through an event that would be his glorification – his death.

‘And what should I say – “Father, save me from this hour?” No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour’, we read in John 12:27. Jesus knew the day would come when he would die. His expectation was not the same as ours – that one day we will die.

Sin-bearer. We get glimpses of Jesus’ understanding of the purpose of his life throughout the four Gospel records. The words of Isaiah 52:13-53:12 provide the key. Indeed, Luke 22:37 records Jesus’ direct quote from Isaiah 53:12 – He was numbered with the transgressors. In keeping with a Jewish interpretative approach, we should note the larger context of Jesus’ quote – all of Isaiah 53, and especially all of v.12 which concludes: Yet he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.

Jesus, the Word of God incarnate, was born to suffer and die for human sin – the perfect for the imperfect. The hidden nature of the depths of God’s love was revealed in the crucifixion – where the Son of God was glorified. Glory speaks of the outward manifestation of inner character. RVG Tasker (The Gospel According to St John) makes the important point that Jesus’ words, “Father, save me from this hour” are a prayer that God will bring him safely (literally) out of (not from) this hour. Tasker quotes Alford’s paraphrase: ‘The going into and exhausting this hour, this cup, is the very appointed way of my (Jesus’) glorification’ (p.149).

Glorification. Furthermore, Jesus prays that the Father’s name will also be glorified. Too often we forget that God, whose nature is always to show mercy, is passionate about rescuing the lost. In John 12:28 we read God’s words: ‘I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again’ – which we see in Jesus’ raising Lazarus from death, and supremely in God’s raising of Jesus from the dead. Jesus’ glorification is also the Father’s glorification.

Judgement. Another significant facet of Jesus’ crucifixion we often overlook is that the world and its ‘ruler’ were judged then and there. For Jesus’ death involved a conflict with the powers of evil. As Jesus’ crucifixion involved the reversal of the events of Genesis 3, the original tempter needed to be deposed once and for all. Through his crucifixion Jesus, the Son of God, not only overcame the power of sin, but also disarmed the evil powers of this world and triumphed over them (Colossians 2:15). Yes, the powers of evil are still hell-bent on defacing and destroying humanity as the image of God. But these very powers are in their death throes, kicking out against what they know will be their end.

The extreme cost to God. In John 12:32 we read Jesus’ words: ‘And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.’ He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die. Jesus endured the extremes of injustice and torture, suffering and crucifixion.

The cross was not a heartless God punishing a hapless Son. Jesus tells us himself: it was his choice – his voluntary sacrifice (John 10:14-15) – because both he and the Father love the world and are intent on its rescue, no matter the cost. When we come to see that Jesus’ cross reveals ‘the invincible power of God’s love’, we are drawn to put our trust in him. Come what may in this world, because God in Christ is victorious over sin and the powers of evil, we have the hope of a future far beyond our imagination.

Returning to John Stott’s reference to The Long Silence. As each of the speakers laid out their complaint against God, loud murmurs of approval rose from the great crowd. When the last speaker finished, there was silence. A very long silence… No one spoke. No one moved. ‘Suddenly everyone knew that God had served his sentence’ (pp.336f).

‘While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of light,’ Jesus warns (John 12:36).

© John G. Mason

In today’s world, God is not so much dead. He is cancelled. He is not to be spoken about. If he is, there’s nothing good to say about him: ‘he is uncaring and grim’.

How different this is from what the Bible actually says about God. Consider the most well- known words in the Bible: For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16).

For God so loved the world… God… Yes, he does exist.

At the recent Anglican Connection Online Conference, Dr. Henry F. (Fritz) Schaefer, one of the world’s leading quantum chemists, commented:

“The laws of nature look just as if they have been selected as the most simple and elegant principles of understandable change by a wise creator. Belief in the decipherability of nature strongly suggests the existence of a cosmic mind, who can construct nature in accordance with rational laws.”

Dr. Schaefer also drew attention to the words of Francis Collins, Scientific director of the (US) government’s Human Genome Project, on the discovery of the human genome: “It is humbling for me and awe-inspiring to realize that we have caught the first glimpse of our own instruction book, previously known only to God.”

The Bible tells us that God’s essential nature is love. In Psalm 145:8-9 we read: The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. The Lord is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made.

The theme of the love of God permeates both the Old and New Testaments. What is more, we find that his love is not sparked by something attractive about us. God loves because love is at the very heart of his being.

Now it’s important to note that our English word ‘love’ translates four Greek words (the language in which the New Testament was written). One word is eros, from which we get our word erotic. It’s a word associated with intense emotional feeling. It’s a word that pagan religions have long used in part as a reference to the mystical experience of the supernatural. One form of yoga in Hinduism exploits sexual intercourse as a technique for achieving spiritual enlightenment.

But nowhere does the New Testament use the word eros. It uses a rare word in the original Greek: agape. There are no rapturous, mystical experiences associated with agape. Rather, agape is committed to serve the best interests of the ones who are loved – self-centered us.

Furthermore, John tells us, God so loved the world that he reaches out to all men and women. This is breath-taking. God could have shut humanity down at the moment of their rebellion. We deserved nothing less. But God in his love, had a bigger and very costly plan in mind that would benefit a world that rejected him.

God gave the world a gift. He gave us his Son…

John is not saying that God loved world enough to give his Son. Rather, it was out of God’s love for the world that he gave his Son.

In the first instance this means the Son personally reveals what God is like to us. As Jesus says later, “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). More than ever we need to hear and respond to him.

But God did not only give his Son to shine his light of revelation into a dark world. The gift was to reach its climax and fulfillment with the Son’s crucifixion. God’s love is seen not so much in the coming of his Son, but in the death of the Son, the Word of God incarnate, Jesus Christ.

This was the action of a holy and just God whose love found a way to forgive, rescue and restore men and women who had shown no love for him. Extraordinarily, God in and through his Son, was willing to make great sacrifices for undeserving people. We needed a Saviour because we are sinners. And God himself was willing to take the initiative to do it at great cost to himself. It is here we see the immeasurable depth of God’s love.

And John tells us of the offer that God holds out – So that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

Eternal life is contrasted with perishing. John doesn’t tell us what perishing is, but it does tell us that it will be a most unwelcome experience. Elsewhere we learn, mainly through Jesus’ own teaching, that it is a very serious thing to refuse God’s gift. The perishing won’t be perpetually partying on with friends. They will lose everything that is good, beautiful and true. T.S. Elliot put it this way, Hell is oneself. Hell is alone…

Life eternal, on the other hand, is the experience and joy of a life that is appropriate in the coming age. It will be a life of perfection and beauty, where there will be no more pain or suffering, self-interest or injustice; rather it will be the fullness of joy in the glory of the Lord.

And John tells us who will benefit: Whoever believes in the Son… We can’t achieve eternal life by our own efforts or merits. We are totally dependent on God’s generous gift. To turn to Jesus, the Son of God and to trust him, is the key to our benefiting from God’s precious gift.

Have you turned to Christ? Are you aware that at least one-in-five people around us are open to an invitation to explore Christianity? Pray. The fields are white unto harvest. God can’t be cancelled.

In his book, God and Stephen Hawking, Dr. John Lennox notes a current objection to miracles that says: ‘Now we know the laws of nature, miracles are impossible’. To which Dr. Lennox responds: ‘From a theistic perspective, the laws of nature predict what is bound to happen if God does not intervene… To argue that the laws of nature make it impossible for us to believe in the existence of God and the likelihood of his intervention in the universe is plainly false’.

God’s people understand that ‘the laws of nature’ are the observable regularities that God the creator has built into the universe. However, such ‘laws’ do not prevent God from intervening if he chooses. When he does, we are able to identify the irregularity and speak of it as ‘a miracle’.

A wedding in a small, impoverished village. In John chapter 2 we read of a wedding that Jesus and his close followers attended in Cana in Galilee (2:1-11). A critical situation had arisen: the wine had run out. And Mary, Jesus’ mother, who seems to have been involved with the preparations for the wedding, had turned to him and asked him to do something.

Jesus’ response might seem harsh to us: “Woman, “What concern is that to you and to me?…” he said.

Woman was Jesus’ usual form of address, as we find when he spoke to the woman at the well (John 4:21) and Mary Magdalene in the garden after his resurrection (John 20:15). It was also the address he used when he spoke to his mother from the cross, putting her in the care of John, the beloved disciple (John 19:26). On no occasion did this imply harshness or indifference.

Furthermore, his response: “What concern is that to you and to me?…” is a Hebrew idiom. While literally it means, ‘What to me and thee’, we need to consider the context. So, on the lips of the evil-possessed in Mark 1, it means, ‘What have we in common with you?’ (1:24). Here, as one commentator observes, the probable meaning is, ‘Your concern and mine are not the same’.

Jesus was saying to Mary that he was no longer just her son but was now entering his time in public ministry as the Son of God incarnate, the Messiah. His work would now involve taking up the primary purpose of his coming. His response to Mary’s “they have no wine” would be much deeper and more significant than generously alleviating the pressing need at a wedding.

Water jars. In verse 6, John tells us: Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification,… As John’s Gospel was written in the first instance for a Jewish readership, it is fair to say that John, who uses symbolism throughout his writing, wants us to understand the purpose of the water: it was for outward and ceremonial cleansing of people who were physically and spiritually unclean.

The wine. Jesus directed the servants to draw from the water jars and take the beverage to the steward, the wedding master of ceremonies, for tasting. Recognizing the fine quality of the wine he spoke with the bridegroom, complimenting him for leaving the best wine, contrary to custom, until the last.

We are left in no doubt about the quality and superabundance of Jesus’ action. He had provided for a bridegroom in his dilemma – saving him from potential legal action, for a bridegroom was responsible for the cost of the wedding. Jesus also provided a generous wedding gift: the new couple could have sold the balance of the wine to start their new home.

Some critics have responded to Jesus’ action in turning some 120 – 130 gallons of water into wine as a purposeless ‘luxury’ miracle. It’s said this miracle is unlike every other supernatural act of Jesus. On every other occasion he showed God’s concern for those in physical need.

What then do we glean from this remarkable event?

In verse 11 we read: Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in (on) him. None of Jesus’ actions were simply designed to assuage human suffering. Yes, they do show God’s compassion, but they also pointed to Jesus’ uniqueness as God’s Messiah. In John’s Gospel they are spoken of as signs revealing the glory of Jesus.

Furthermore, because this sign is not followed up with John’s usual spiritual discourse, we need to look more carefully at the detail of the narrative. As we observed, in verse 6 John had indicated that the water in the six stone jars was used for the Jewish rites of purification.

Given the direction of John’s narrative to the hour when Jesus said he would be glorified – in his crucifixion, we can say that the water, now turned into wine, symbolized the day when Jesus would generously provide the perfect, once and for all time spiritual cleansing for the sins of an unclean humanity – through his shed blood on the cross.

Significantly, John the Gospel writer tells us that the disciples believed in (or, on) him. They did not simply believe that he was the Messiah, they put their trust in him.

Jesus’ turning the water into wine was the first occasion John records when Jesus chose to intervene and act outside ‘the laws of nature’. It was the first of the signs authenticating Jesus as the Word of God, the Son of God incarnate.

Prayer: Lord Christ, eternal Word and Light of the Father’s glory: send your light and your truth so that we may both know and proclaim your word of life, to the glory of God the Father; for you now live and reign, God for all eternity. Amen.

Aspects of Christianity can seem far-fetched to our 21st century minds. The miraculous elements make it seem like the story of Santa Claus or fairies at the bottom of the garden. But before we dismiss such events as pure fiction, it’s worth remembering GK Chesterton’s words about truth and fiction: ‘Truth must necessarily be stranger than fiction, for fiction is the creation of the human mind and therefore congenial to it.’

Authenticity. The Bible doesn’t permit us to dismiss the difficult bits. The writers of the New Testament insisted on the authenticity of their record. In the opening lines of his account of Jesus, Dr. Luke tells us that he was self-consciously writing a history – he was setting down an orderly account of events that have been fulfilled among us. Luke’s work is not a myth or legend that has the appearance of history, such as Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings.

Rather, he tells us that his record was verified by eyewitnesses. While Luke was not an eyewitness himself of the events he writes about, he did what Thucydides did. He verified his references with those who were there.

Transfiguration. I make these comments because today we turn to an extraordinary event recorded in the writings of Mark, Matthew and Luke. In Mark chapter 9, verse 2 we read: Six days later,… Mark wants us to be in no doubt that, just as the previous conversation had occurred, when Jesus had asked his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” so did the event that follows.

Mark’s record is specific: Jesus took three of his close followers with him to a high mountain: Peter and James and John. There were three eyewitnesses to this significant moment in Jesus’ life.

And what an astonishing moment it was: Jesus was transfigured, literally, metamorphosed, before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. Mark couldn’t find a metaphor for the dazzling brilliance and purity of the bright light that emanated from Jesus. The best he could do was to say that Jesus was brighter and purer than the very best soap manufacturers could provide. In both Luke and Acts the reference to dazzling clothes describes a supernatural glory.

Moses and Elijah. Furthermore, two of the great prophets, Moses and Elijah were also present and spoke with Jesus (9:4). In the conversation six days earlier, the disciples had answered Jesus’ question about who people thought he was by saying, ‘John the Baptist or Elijah, or one of the prophets.’ And when Jesus had pressed them for their own view, Peter had replied, “You are the Christ.”

But here on the mountain it was obvious that Peter had not yet worked out what this meant. For as the visitors departed, he said, “Master…; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah… As Mark comments, Peter had no idea what he was saying.

The Voice. Before he could say anything else, a cloud enveloped them all and they heard a voice, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him” (9:35). God the Father’s words confirmed Jesus’ identity – He is not only the Messiah, but also God’s Son. The glory of Jesus on that mountain came from within. Peter, James and John witnessed the majestic glory of God incarnate.

God the Father’s words not only confirmed what they had begun to realise about Jesus. They also assured them of the authenticity of all that he taught and promised. These words are also for us. Furthermore, Jesus’ transfiguration was a foretaste of his appearing in all his majestic glory – a foretaste of his awesome messianic reign with its power, justice, goodness and compassion.

Much later, Peter writes of this event in his Second Letter (1:16): We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ but we had been eye-witnesses of his majesty. For the present however, Mark tells us, Jesus asked the three of them to keep what they had seen to themselves.

Meaning. As we look at Jesus’ transfiguration through the lens of his death and resurrection and ascension, we begin to see its greater significance. Imagine if Jesus had just disappeared after his resurrection and ascension: the witnesses wouldn’t know about his glorious appearance or his kingly power and authority.

The transfiguration was a preview of Jesus in his post-resurrection state, informing and inspiring the disciples in their mission, in their preaching and ultimately, in their writings.

And there are implications for all God’s people. The day will come when we will share in the glory of Christ! In his Letter to the Romans 8:18 Paul the Apostle writes: I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God;…

C.S. Lewis put it this way: ‘If we let Him – for we can prevent Him, if we choose – He will make the feeblest and filthiest of us into a god or goddess, a dazzling, radiant, immortal creature, pulsating all through with such energy and joy and wisdom and love as we cannot now imagine, a bright stainless mirror which reflects back to God perfectly (though, of course, on a smaller scale) His own boundless power and delight and goodness. The process will be long and in parts very painful; but that is what we are in for. Nothing less.’