Surprisingly Empty

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb bringing the spices which they had prepared.  And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.  While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men suddenly stood near them in dazzling clothing; and as the women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, “Why do you seek the living One among the dead?  He is not here, but He has risen. Remember how He spoke to you while He was still in Galilee, saying that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again.”  And they remembered His words, and returned from the tomb and reported all these things to the eleven and to all the rest.  (Luke 24:1-9 NASB)

The worst of a possible outcomes has come about.  The Master has been killed.  In mourning, spices have been prepared, and aromatics collected.  The Sabbath was less a day of rest, and more a day of deep sorrow and despair.  Joy has been turned to sadness, and hope to hopelessness.  The expectations of a small group of followers have been dashed, and the enemies of God sleep in peace.  It isn’t just a tomb that defines a hollow space in the earth.  Jesus’ followers feel one in their souls as well.

But the stone is rolled away.  It’s not just the cool morning air and mist.  The heavy stone is no longer before the door.  The problem they discussed on the way is found already solved.  But who?  Has someone come to do as they have come to do?  Or has something awful, on top of the unimaginable which has already happened, come about?  Has the worst of all possible outcomes just gotten unbearably worse?  They rush to the open tomb to find out.

They enter the open door.  It is, and isn’t as they expect.  While it’s true that His body is gone, the wrapping is still there.  Who would take the corpse without the linen?  And why isn’t it “unwrapped”?  It’s simply…empty.  Their hearts beat faster as their minds try to grasp what they see.  It makes no sense, and fears rise within them.

Then the semi-darkness of the tomb is suddenly lit by the presence of two “men”.  Their clothes shine as if they are clothed in light.  The details of the scene are brought into stark, sharp clarity.  But it’s too much for the women, already shocked by what they have seen.  They collapse, bowing toward these two terrifying figures, probably trembling, and crying in layers of fear.

But then the voice, deep and gentle, the sound of a smile in the tone and timbre, fills the tomb.  “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”  Now their minds race, and their pulses quicken. The hope, destroyed and scattered by witnessing their Master tortured to death, breathes deeply within them.  “He is not here, He has risen!”  No, but, please, yes!  It can’t be, but let it be.  The hope within them struggles through the gloomy shroud of death they have wrapped it in, struggles to be free and in the light once more.  “Remember…”

It comes flooding back; the confusion, the fear, the struggle to grapple with Jesus’ as Messiah, the Anointed, the Christ!  The Messiah doesn’t die!  Yet He did.  The Messiah can’t be hung on a tree, cursed!  Yet He was, they saw it happen.  But He had kept saying something like this would happen.  It was impossible then, shoved from their minds by the terror and incomprehensibility of what was happening this Passover.  The frame Jesus had built, in which to understand the Messiah of God, began to slip into place, shoving the frame, used by their culture and traditions for centuries, roughly to the side.

The old frame collapsed, crashing into a heap of trash, and joy ignited, lit by hope, now free from the shroud of despair.  They remembered His words.  Something new had come, much more brilliant than the two men’s clothes.  These women, wrapped in grief that morning, now emerged from the tomb, now more alive than they had ever been!  Their own resurrected lives began by running, ignominiously for such women, through the streets of Jerusalem, to tell the people who needed this hope the most!

My hope lives.  It hasn’t always.  Even as a “believer”, I have, at times, lost my hope.  I have taken my “eyes off Jesus”.  There have been times when my circumstances ruled my view, and all I could see was the defeat.  I’ve been there, as I said, even as a believer and follower of Jesus.

And, in those times, my Master calls to me, asking why I mourn what lives?  The shroud of despair around my hope is actually empty.  The tomb in the depths of my soul is not where my hope is found, that hole has nothing inside.  Why do I look for the living among the dead?  The question penetrates the fuzzy emotions of my depression.  Why am I looking here for my hope?

The old frame crumbles as Jesus’ new frame slides into place.  The new window is clear, the images I see crisp, and the truth floods in like light.  My hope is kept by my Master, and can never be found in holes in the ground.  I don’t define my hope, for my hope is a gift, a treasure, held in safekeeping by my Master.  Jesus, my King, holds my hope, and His Spirit is my redemption ticket.  I am forever connected to the One who has saved me.

Because the tomb is empty, I too live.  Because the grave could not hold Him, hopelessness cannot hold me.  What do I have to fear if death itself is dead?  I cannot die, since death is to be separate from my Master.  And now, nothing can separate me from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus!

What do you learn from the empty tomb this morning?  What is your view through the knothole?

 

Advertisement

Passion Week XXXIII

It was now about the sixth hour, and darkness fell over the whole land until the ninth hour, because the sun was obscured; and the veil of the temple was torn in two.  And Jesus, crying out with a loud voice, said, “Father, INTO YOUR HANDS I COMMIT MY SPIRIT.” Having said this, He breathed His last. (Luke 23:44-46 NASB)

One of places all of the accounts of Jesus’ crucifixion seem to agree is the timing.  Except for John, who leaves the timing out completely, all the Gospel accounts seem to agree on the timing based on the darkness that covered the earth.  From the sixth hour until the ninth, darkness fell over the earth.  Only Luke, of the three, attributes this darkness to an eclipse.  He actually uses the technical term for it of his day.

A solar eclipse occurred as Jesus hung bleeding on the cross.  There have been many things written on the significance of this.  The position I have taken has been that Jesus had to suffer death in the form of separation from God as the penalty for sin for all mankind.  But I have also believed that this happened when He breathed His last, and lasted for the three days He was in the tomb.  Now, I’m not so sure about that timing.

What does the darkness mean?  Considering that the Creator of the universe set that date and time in place as He created the universe, as it was marked by an eclipse, the timing must be important.  Jesus lives through it, and breathes His last on the other side.  Or does He?  Luke says that the veil of the temple was torn, then Jesus cries out, committing His Spirit to the Father, then dies.  The other Gospels include only one other detail, Jesus asking why He has been forsaken.  Other than that, they agree, which presents an interesting option for timing.

It’s possible that Jesus breathes His last, and then the eclipse concludes, revealing the sun once more.  Consider the dramatic conclusion to this life, that, as He breathes out, the sun slides from behind the moon to illuminate his Creator’s body suspended in death upon a cross.  Why the sun now of all times?  Why not the darkness from that point?  But the  image translates what was considered a defeat into the illumination of a victory.  Jesus says Himself, “It is finished.”  And so the sun can, once more, reappear to reveal the body of his Creator.  Only now, that body is all that’s left…for now.

So, while Jesus hung for those three hours of darkness, what was happening?  At the end of them, Jesus cries out asking why He has been forsaken, and the temple veil is torn from top to bottom.  He commits His Spirit into the hands of the Father, and dies.  Although, I believe that, even though He breathed His last at the ninth hour, Jesus dies at the sixth.

What is the penalty of sin?  According to Romans 6:23, sin earns death.  According to Isaiah 59:2, our iniquities have caused a separation between us and God, and He hides His face from us, and does not hear.  In the Garden, God tells Adam that the very day he eats from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil he will certainly die.  Yet, the day they ate of the tree, Adam and Eve are banished from the Garden, and have children.  Did the “wages” change?  It could be important that the banishment from the Garden is the last recorded communication between Adam and God.

The impression left from this cursory examination of sin may redefine death.  Jesus, in order to pay this penalty for sin, would need to suffer that separation from God.  God would have to hide His face and not hear Jesus.  And this would be in keeping with God’s definition of death.  The problem of Jesus’ deity aside, the payment remains the same.  Just as the Trinity, the triune nature of God, is inexplicable, so too would be how Jesus could pay this debt.  Regardless of how, He did.  And so, I believe He did so, and as He does so, the sun is hidden behind the moon.

I believe Jesus dies in the sixth hour, is separated from the Father for three hours, and then breathes His last.  And is then joined by the criminal in paradise?  So it would seem.  Wouldn’t it be supremely ironic if, as Jesus breathes His last, He lives again?  The sun reappears.  For those at the cross who witness Jesus’ last breath, it’s over, and He dies.  But for the Father, that isn’t necessarily so.  The reunion of Spirit and body hasn’t happened yet, but does Jesus’ connection with the Father resume when He breathes His last and the sun reappears?  Or is the sun’s reemergence a promise of the hope to be revealed in three days?  Does the Father foreshadow Sunday on Friday?  I’m not sure.  But that day Jesus stands with a redeemed criminal in paradise.

What’s your view of Jesus through your knothole?

Passion Week XXXII

One of the criminals who were hanged there was hurling abuse at Him, saying, “Are You not the Christ? Save Yourself and us!”  But the other answered, and rebuking him said, “Do you not even fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation?  And we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.”  And he was saying, “Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!”  And He said to him, “Truly I say to you, today you shall be with Me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:39-43 NASB)

One of the most poignant accounts of the crucifixion is the repentant thief on the cross.  But the thief is also one of the strangest characters in the Gospel account as well.  Keep in mind that we no nothing of why either criminal is being crucified, nor any other information about them.  Only Luke has this account of the repentant criminal.

The crucifixion crowd seems to be focusing their abuse on Jesus.  The chief priests are in attendance challenging Him to come down since He’s the “chosen one”.  The people claim He’s saved others but cannot save Himself.  The soldiers mock Him, now that they’ve finished divvying up His clothes.  And now one of the criminals joins in the mocking, “save Yourself, and us.”  Matthew and Mark mention the abuse Jesus receives from the criminals as well (Matt. 27:44, Mark 15:32), but they say both criminals abused Jesus.

In Luke only we have this lone criminal who, apart from everyone else, seems to actually understand what Jesus is doing.  Imagine the scene, crowds watching the tortuous death of three men, hear the shouted insults, taunts, the soldiers mocking, and the mocking criminal.  Then, the other criminal calls to the other, “Do you not even fear God?”  He continues by confessing that they belong there but Jesus does not.  This is a sharp deviation from the rest of the scene.

The criminal calling out his fellow and confessing his sin, then turns his attention to Jesus, and he says one of the most startling things in Scripture, “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your Kingdom.”  To really get how strange this is, keep imagining the scene.  The painful death, the jeering crowds and soldiers all point to the immanent death of this same Jesus.  And the criminal says, “…when You come into Your Kingdom.”  How does this guy know the Kingdom follows after the cross?  Not even Jesus’ disciples seemed to know that.

The theological genius hanging on his own cross next to Jesus knows that there is more to follow this horrific death.  But He also knows to ask to be a part of it.  No one else asked for that.  The crowds, the soldiers, the priests, they all jeer the Savior.  But this guy wants in Jesus’ Kingdom.  This guy, probably as beaten and shredded as Jesus, doesn’t see the death of hope or of a problematic teacher.  He sees one in Whom he hopes anyway, regardless of the impending death, in spite of the jeers and derision he hears.  Who does that?

And Jesus replies even here, to this confession of faith, with a promise of paradise.  Up to this point, that term hasn’t been used by Jesus.  He’s used other terms for heaven, including “heaven”.  And there are various teachings or understandings about this term, both from rabbinic teaching and early church fathers.  Whatever it means technically, this criminal will be there with Jesus before the day is out.  That much is certain.

I learn some really important lessons here.  This criminal repented from his mindset to Jesus’ mindset at some point along the way.  Defending Jesus, confessing his own just death sentence, he then seeks to be accepted by Jesus Himself.  And, of course, he is accepted.  Can I, at the darkest point of my life, when the horrible end is obvious, and hope is really gone; can I, then, believe in Jesus’ Kingdom?  Let’s say it’s not actually that bad.  Can I, then, believe in Jesus’ Kingdom?

These are fairly meaningless contingencies for me.  I’m already in the Kingdom.  The real lesson for me is how I behave toward those seeking entrance.  Because people in those contingencies aren’t pretty, they aren’t typically “nice”, and they don’t “behave”.  Life, for them, is scarce and hard.  So, if they seek entrance, “Jesus, remember me…” then the plan is how to respond.

It doesn’t seem very wise, but Jesus makes His disciples “gatekeepers” of His Kingdom.  If it weren’t for the fact we’re kind of stupid, we’d be a fine choice.  Yet, in spite of our foolishness, Jesus uses us in this way.  And those outside seeking to enter see the fools at the gate.  And the challenge is to seek to be included among the fools, or seek another kingdom.  The criminal sees the impossibility of what was happening, and sought to be included in the foolishness.  Why not, he’s about to die anyway.  What does he have to lose?  Those closest to Jesus left Him.  The ones you would expect to be there seeking entrance to the Kingdom are hiding or looking on from a distance.  It’s the guy being tortured to death with Jesus who fearlessly asks for entrance.

So here’s to the fellow fools at the gate.  Doff the funny hat as the riffraff enter our Master’s Kingdom.  Smile and welcome them into the life of misfits where the fools are wise, and the wise foolish.  Welcome to the happy village of idiots.

What’s your view through your knothole this morning?

Passion Week XXXI

When they came to the place called The Skull, there they crucified Him and the criminals, one on the right and the other on the left.  But Jesus was saying, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” And they cast lots, dividing up His garments among themselves.  And the people stood by, looking on. And even the rulers were sneering at Him, saying, “He saved others; let Him save Himself if this is the Christ of God, His Chosen One.”  The soldiers also mocked Him, coming up to Him, offering Him sour wine, and saying, “If You are the King of the Jews, save Yourself!”  Now there was also an inscription above Him, “THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS.”  (Luke 23:33-38 NASB)

All of the Gospels compress details about the crucifixion.  To understand what was meant by the term, crucifixion, the execution techniques of the Romans would need to be studied.  The point of the writers is not in the details of what Jesus suffers, but how He suffers.  The general approach, He was crucified, He was mocked, His clothes were divided among His executioners, all provide a picture of how He suffers.  He forgives.  Even as He is being tortured, He forgives.

Luke, with the other writers preserves the irony of the mocking, that He saved others, but now can’t save Himself.  The reality that Jesus is dying to save the whole of humanity draws these comments from the ignorant people He’s dying to save.  He suffers that too.  He is suffering to save them, the ones mocking Him.  And, in their mocking, dare Him to come down off the cross, an action that would have prevented their salvation.

The Romans put signs above those being executed listing their crimes.  This was to be a deterrent to others who would commit the same crimes.  Above Jesus’ head was “The King of the Jews”.  It was in Aramaic, Latin, and Greek.  No one visiting for the festival could miss it.  There, at the Passover, the pilgrims would know their King was being executed.  And He was being executed because His people rejected Him.  The Romans couldn’t care less, Jesus was just one less member of an unruly troublesome people.  And so, they joined in the mocking of the condemned, the One dying for their sins.

The soldiers at the foot of the cross, the crowd witnessing the torture of the Son of Man, the ones looking on either close or from afar, it was for these Jesus dies.  It was for the ones before He suffered.  It was for us He was tortured to death.  And still the world mocks.  Where, among the crowds, are we?  Weeping from a distance?  Standing near enough to hear in shock?  Or are we hiding our faces from what is happening?  Are we in a room in Jerusalem as Jesus hangs on a cross, atop a skull, outside the walls?

Where are you?  I’m weeping, but that’s what I do, I weep in His presence.  It’s how I know I’m there.

Passion Week XXX

And following Him was a large crowd of the people, and of women who were mourning and lamenting Him.  But Jesus turning to them said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, stop weeping for Me, but weep for yourselves and for your children.  For behold, the days are coming when they will say, ‘Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed.’  Then they will begin TO SAY TO THE MOUNTAINS, ‘FALL ON US,’ AND TO THE HILLS, ‘COVER US.’  For if they do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?” (Luke 23:27-31 NASB)

My dad had a saying, probably shared by thousands of other followers of Jesus, “It’s not the things I don’t understand in the Bible that bother me, it’s the things I do understand.”  This passage really fits into one of those “don’t understand” categories, but it does bother me.

Mourner was an actually profession in first century Judea.  So, as someone approaches their death, people mourning them was not unusual, some were even paid for it.  It was not necessarily typical for those going to their execution.  Considering that the crowds of Jerusalem have more or less turned against Jesus, this isn’t expected.  And Luke is the only Gospel writer who preserves this detail.

Even more surprising than the mourners is the response of Jesus.  By all accounts (except for Luke) He has been scourged, and even in Luke, He can’t carry His own cross.  In this weakened state, He still takes a moment to have this lengthy discourse with these women?  It just seems out of place.  Although it wouldn’t fit somewhere else either.

The mourners are surprising.  That Jesus takes the time for this discourse is surprising.  And then what He says is, well it’s at least confusing, if not surprising.  Jesus tells the mourners to wail for themselves and their children.  The days are coming when those with children will be considered cursed, rather than the barren women considered cursed.  The barren won’t have to see the end of their own children.

If you look at a reference Bible, you may be sent to Isaiah 2, or Hosea 10, or both.  In Isaiah, Jerusalem (daughters of Jerusalem are the ones mourning) is prophesied against.  But the rocks and hills aren’t falling on them.  In Hosea, the Northern 10 Tribes of Israel (Samaria) are being prophesied against, and here the people want the rocks and hills to fall on them to hide them from God.

Jesus’ reference could simply be a commonly phrased prophecy which He is pronouncing on Jerusalem.  Or He could be using a phrase understood as pertaining to Samaria on Jerusalem to make clear He means the whole country, not just the city of Jerusalem.  Because He refers to the women as “daughters of Jerusalem”, it’s most likely the first option.  Either way, a bad day is approaching.  So, once again, we have a prediction of Jerusalem’s destruction in Luke.  That makes three (19:41-44; 21:5,6,20-24; 23:28-31).  For some commentators, this indicates to them that Luke was written after AD 70, and he is partially explaining why it happened to the Jews.  I’m not convinced, even with the detail Luke includes.

Jesus then completes His discourse with the cryptic, “For if they do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it’s dry?”  Who is “they”? The “things” are probably His crucifixion, or at least His rejection by the religious leaders.  When is the “tree green”, and when is the “tree dry”?  The time of the “green tree” is while Jesus is among them, available as a tangible object of faith.  After His resurrection and ascension, would then be the “dry” time.  But that’s not necessarily the best option.  If the ‘things’ are what’s happening then, then the tree is green right then.  So, if it has to do with Jesus’ presence, what about His presence makes the tree green?

Green trees are alive, or at least not dormant for winter.  Dry trees could be either dead or dormant.  Green trees will produce fruit, while dry trees won’t.  Perhaps the timing is defined by the availability of fruit?  In any case, whichever option is used to define the “green” versus “dry” time, Jesus says the time is coming on them.  If He is referring to the destruction in AD 70, then the “green” time is when He is physically among them, and the “dry” time is after He ascends to the Father.

Having said all that, notice that the blame for what comes is left on the “they”.  “If they do this when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?”  What will happen logically follows what they are doing now.  Luke is saying that the destruction of Jerusalem is judgement for Jerusalem’s rejection of Jesus.  He is crucified for the sins of the world, and the city responsible for carrying that out is judged by God and destroyed.

If Jesus is referring to Hosea earlier, then also tucked away in that chapter is this statement “Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap steadfast love; break up your fallow ground, for it is time to seek the Yahweh, that He may come and rain righteousness upon you.” (Hos. 10:12)  Even in the midst of a judgement prophecy, there is a call to repent, there is another option than being destroyed.

That’s my “partial” view through the knothole this morning.  What’s yours?

 

Passion Week XXIX

When they led Him away, they seized a man, Simon of Cyrene, coming in from the country, and placed on him the cross to carry behind Jesus. (Luke 23:26 NASB)

A man in Jerusalem for the Passover is swept into the drama of the salvation of the world.  Three Gospels mention Simon of Cyrene, and Mark says he was the father of Rufus and Alexander.  There is familiarity with this man and his sons in the Jerusalem church after the crucifixion.  Witnessing what took place made such a mark on this man that he became part of this movement started by Jesus.  It seems that he did and what he saw made a mark that kept him from returning to Cyrene.

The person who becomes known as the one who carried the cross for Jesus would become someone of importance to the church.  He lived out a part of the story that was missing for them.  But he also was pressed into living out the lessons of Jesus, to bear one another’s burdens.  He rendered a service to Jesus for which every disciple probably envied him, Peter most of all.  He may not have done it willingly, but he did it, and it put him right in the event of Jesus’ death.  For all we know he may have supplied the details of the mocking, Jesus’ forgiveness of the people, and the repentance of the one criminal and the centurion.

What I learn from Simon of Cyrene is that I too may be “pressed” into service for my Master.  I’m supposed to be doing it anyway, so that’s not a huge thing.  Probably more importantly is that others without a relationship to Jesus may also be pressed into service.  Will what they witness bring them closer to the Son of God, their Savior?  And how can I help foster that drawing near to Jesus?

In the movie, “God’s Not Dead 2”, a court-appointed attorney, an atheist/agnostic, is required to represent the defendant in a First-Amendment Rights trial.  In the process, he is confronted with some facts that astonish him.  As it nears the end, his assumptions are challenged, and he is faced with making a choice about his belief, either against or in Jesus.  While this depiction is both fictional and dramatic, that it happens to some degree or another is actually probable.

Two of the witnesses in the fictional trial were believers who had been atheists, but came to faith in their examination of the evidence of Jesus.  They were attempting to disprove Jesus’ story, and in the end became believers.  Those stories are true, the people played themselves.  One was Lee Strobel, the author of “The Case for Christ”, and the other was J Warner Wallace, the author of “Cold Case Christianity”.  So, it does happen.  Some who are swept into the story of Jesus come out the other side believers and contributors to His story.  I’m already in it, and have been.  So, how can I help those unbelieving, unsuspecting participants find the truth about Jesus?

Simon witnessed the death of Jesus, participated in part of it, and became part of His following because of what he saw.  How can I contribute to the journey of others as they are swept into “church”, into contact with other believers, even just struggling with the existence of an “annoying worship” (i.e. too loud, can be heard across the street).  I can either help or hinder that journey among the people of God, and within His story of salvation.

That’s my “oblique” view through this knothole this morning.  What does yours look like?

Passion Week XXVIII

Now Herod was very glad when he saw Jesus; for he had wanted to see Him for a long time, because he had been hearing about Him and was hoping to see some sign performed by Him.  And he questioned Him at some length; but He answered him nothing.  And the chief priests and the scribes were standing there, accusing Him vehemently.  And Herod with his soldiers, after treating Him with contempt and mocking Him, dressed Him in a gorgeous robe and sent Him back to Pilate.  Now Herod and Pilate became friends with one another that very day; for before they had been enemies with each other.  (Luke 23:8-12 NASB)

For some reason, Herod Antipas is a character on whom Luke spends time.  The other Gospels barely mention him except in relation to John the Baptist.  Matthew 14 and Mark 6 are the other two Gospel references to this “tetrarch”.  But Luke has chapters 9, 13, and 23 in his Gospel.  The “Herod” later in Acts is most likely Agrippa I.  For Luke, the Herodian line of rulers holds interest.  It’s very possible that they would also hold interest for Luke’s audience or at least for Theophilus.

Luke also seems to know something of the household of Antipas.  Knows enough to know that this ruler wanted to see Jesus, had heard of Him, and sought to see a miracle (sign).  We can only surmise why that might be, but the life in Roman and regional politics offers lots of opportunities to become jaded toward anything truly supernatural.  On the other hand, the opportunity for entertainment through the miraculous is also a possible reason.  Either way, or some other, Jesus decides to not play along.  Herod gets nothing out of Him, no sign, no words, no defense, no entertainment or proof of any sort.

Antipas then joins in the derision of Jesus, possibly lending weight to the “entertainment” reason for wanting to see a sign.  Herod’s soldiers and he treat Jesus with contempt and mock Him.  Herod throws a “gorgeous” robe on Him, and Jesus is sent back to Pilate.  It had to be somewhat depressing, and real “killjoy” for this wealthy center of attention.  There is a game rulers play called “puppet master”, where the king and those around him attempt to get everyone else to be their “puppet” and do what they want.  Trickery, lies, intimidation, and even torture are valid methods to achieve success in this game.  Jesus refuses to play.

Ironically, the chief priests and scribes are playing the game.  They like it too, only they play the “Jewish Leadership” version, which has more rules for religious hypocrisy, subterfuge, and mob control.  It’s often a popular edition widely available in churches today.  This group stands and accuses Jesus of everything they can think of, and somethings suggested by others on the way to Herod’s.  Again Jesus just stands at the center of the swirling maelstrom of vehemence and contempt, totally at peace.

Jesus’ peace came from a teleological perspective.  He had already given up His will to avoid what is coming.  He had only the view point of the end.  For Him, the end passed through being tortured to death, and separation from the substance of God.  But able to see beyond, He had a resurrection and ascension on which to focus.

I think we’ve largely lost that teleological perspective.  We can have it too, but 2,000 years just seems so long to wait.  So much has happened to jade our view of the miraculous.  We too, now focus on entertainment over substance.  We content ourselves with the “games people play” rather than the “…prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

There is an alternative.  We can consider heaven.  We can dream of it.  We can imagine the Descent of the Lord, the shout of heaven, the voice of the archangel, the trumpet of God, and the rising of the dead in Christ.  But we don’t.  We should, but we don’t.  Instead we fall into the quagmire of “what-have-you-done-for-me-lately” theology that seeks “relevance” marketed as a “good-return-on-investment”.    As if what we receive here is worth going through what we go through here.  It’s not, and it can never be.  Friendship with the world is hatred toward God.  So, it’s time to dream of something else.

Jesus looks at the splendor of Herod, the wealth and power of the religious leaders, and the military might of Pilate and the Romans.  He does see it.  But He also sees the glory of heaven, the brilliance of the armies of God, and the sheer overwhelming power of the Giver of Life.  His perspective is different.  But Jesus shares this perspective with us!  He doesn’t keep it to Himself, He doesn’t bogard the riches of His Kingdom, He does not consider equality with God to be plunder.

The real question is whether or not we will avail ourselves of the perspective of Jesus.  Will we take the long view?  Because the view of where we are from where we are is really depressing.  Isn’t it much more sensible to look at where God is?  Isn’t the face of Jesus a much more pleasant view?  What would happen here if we were more concerned about what’s happening there?  Probably not what you think.

That’s my view through this knothole this morning.  What’s yours?

Passion Week XXVII

But they kept on insisting, saying, “He stirs up the people, teaching all over Judea, starting from Galilee even as far as this place.”  When Pilate heard it, he asked whether the man was a Galilean.  And when he learned that He belonged to Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent Him to Herod, who himself also was in Jerusalem at that time. (Luke 23:5-7 NASB)

Pilate is still caught between the people he doesn’t want to help, and the silent guy in front of him he wants to help.  In the end, he’s really just a person in a country of people.  It’s just that, for Pilate, this Person really does seem different.  Of all the characters involved, only Jesus is at peace.  That’s very backward from the usual drama of Jerusalem.

But among the virulent accusations flying from the gaping gnashing holes of lies before him, Pilate hears, “…from Galilee” to describe Jesus.  This is what Pilate’s been looking for, a back door off this stage, and out of this tragic comedy.  So, he sends Jesus to the “Herod” who had already killed John the Baptist out of embarrassment.  Easy-peasy, Jesus is as good as dead already.

Conveniently, Herod is actually in Jerusalem for the feast (so we think).  It doesn’t say why Herod is in Jerusalem, only that he is.  The Passover is going on, so perhaps that’s why.  In the case of Herod, it could only be a political or social excuse.  He’s the “Chief of a Fourth” so anything to get the other three-fourths is worth the effort.  And it’s unlikely this king will be a part of a traditional Passover meal.  He’s even less Jewish than his father, and never tried as hard to be accepted by the people he governed.

That being said, Pilate has found “Door Number 3”, and he’s taking it.  We already know it won’t work, but let’s stop and look at ourselves in light of Pilate’s approach to Jesus.  Pilate isn’t Jewish.  He hasn’t been steeped in their traditions and teachings.  He’s not even close to being a “believer”.  He has centurions under him who are God-fearing gentiles, respectful of the Jewish people, and many of them well-liked.  He is nothing like that.  So his approach to Jesus is as a “political animal” rather than a “believing Gentile”.

If you’re reading this, presumably you already believe, at least to a degree, that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, and Savior of the World.  From the outset, our approaches to Jesus differ from Pilate’s in this passage.  While that initially gives us a great advantage, the similarities in our decisions about what to do with Jesus should be extremely telling.  Think about a time, especially as a believer, you let Jesus be somebody else’s problem; you passed on the opportunity to stand for Him, you sought any other option than to endanger your position or comfort to stand for Him.

Now, that shame your feeling, (because who hasn’t done this) hold that emotion in your left hand (work with me here).  Now, think back to Jesus in the upper room with His disciples. He’s just said they will eventually sit on thrones judging the tribes of Israel.  And then He leans over and says to Peter, “Simon, Simon, Satan has demanded to sift you like wheat; but I have prayed for you, that your faith will be strengthened.”  Do you remember that?  Do you also remember that Jesus, immediately after, predicts Peter’s denial of Him?  Take that shame in your left hand and hold it up to Jesus.  It’s not like He didn’t know it was coming on you.  But also hear from Him His prayer for your faith, because it’s at times like this that we need to return and strengthen others.

The thing about Pilate is that he does what Peter does, in a sense.  And in that same sense, hasn’t surprised Jesus.  So, Pilate has the same option to “return”, but in a different sense.  To our shock, so do the religious leaders.  Even Judas had the option.  It’s not about the failure, it is, once again, about the response to the failure.  Our relationship with Jesus is different than Pilate’s.  And we have the chance, the calling, to return to that relationship rather than live in the shame of the failure.

So, yes, we’ve pulled a “Pilate”, and sought convenient options other than declaring Jesus as our King.  But we also have the calling of our King to return to Him.  Think that through.  He knows we’re going to deny Him, but He calls us back anyway.  We’re stuck in mediocrity between what we know and what we do.  No shock to our Master.  We’re not what we imagine we should have been by now.  Didn’t surprise Jesus.  We missed the bar we set for ourselves among our peers.  Jesus, leaning on the fallen bar, holds out His hand to pull us to our feet.  Is it possible that we’ve been looking at this relationship all wrong?  Perhaps we should take that hand, be pulled to our feet, and listen to His explanation.  There’s something we’re missing we desperately need to know.

What do you see through your knothole this morning?

Passion Week XXVI

Then the whole body of them got up and brought Him before Pilate.  And they began to accuse Him, saying, “We found this man misleading our nation and forbidding to pay taxes to Caesar, and saying that He Himself is Christ, a King.”  So Pilate asked Him, saying, “Are You the King of the Jews?” And He answered him and said, “It is as you say.”  Then Pilate said to the chief priests and the crowds, “I find no guilt in this man.” (Luke 23:1-4 NASB)

Having concluded that Jesus claims to be God, and therefore, deity, the religious leaders take Him to Pilate for execution.  The problem is that claiming to be a foreign god isn’t a “hanging offense” under Roman law.  But rebels are punished pretty quickly, so they accuse Jesus of sedition (just to be able to use that word in a sentence).

Their initial accusations refer back to some of their confrontations during the week, like paying taxes.  But others refer to Jesus as claiming to be a king, and that He claims to be an “anointed one”.  Being anointed does have meaning in Roman and Greek culture, just not exactly the same meaning.  Anointing for Greeks and Romans is what you did with medicine on a wounded person.  But the Romans were very aware of the political ramifications of anointing to the Jews.  So when the Jewish leaders say, “king”, Pilate begins his interrogation.

The Problem for Pilate is that when asked, Jesus doesn’t go frothing-at-the-mouth crazy.  That would have made the job easier, and it’s what others did.  But instead, Jesus is calmly saying yes in an oblique manner.  So, Pilate returns and says he finds no guilt in Jesus.

In other Gospels, more detail is supplied about Pilate’s predicament.  His wife warns him to stay out of it.  Jesus has no problem with Pilate’s authority, and claims His kingdom is from another realm (does Pilate think He’s nuts?).  Regardless which Gospel you read, Pilate does not have a rebel before Him, only rabid religious leaders.  The ones frothing-at-the-mouth crazy, inciting a riot among the people, are the ones seeking to have Jesus crucified.  It’s a tragic irony.  And at some point, it really comes down to keeping the peace during the festival.

Still, Pilate will be trying other means to apply a modicum of justice to the event.  Of course, it won’t work.  Unbeknownst to everyone but Jesus, He has an appointment with a cross, at a particular hour on that that specific day.  It’s an appointment set when the universe was created, to be heralded by signs in the sun and moon.  How could Pilate know?  How could the religious leaders have known?  Jesus knew.  Jesus sees this act unfold exactly as written by the Playwright of Heaven.  But Jesus also knows this isn’t His final act.

When confronted with social and cultural pressure to disavow Jesus, what do we do?  Far too often, we do the expedient thing.  In order to not be offensive, we decide to prevent a riot, to keep the peace.  Too many things go wrong with that behavior.  The “reasonable” believers are stuck in the middle between rabid-frothing-at-the-mouth religious nuts wanting to kill everyone disagreeing with them, and the comfortable religious sanguine group who sell out the practice of their faith in Jesus to a bowl of mixed nuts.  Many in the middle are caught between the desire to simply minister to the hurts of humanity, and the clamor for lies in the society at large.

Jesus neither held a sign saying “God hates everybody”, nor did He simply “go along to get along” with the religious leaders.  He wandered the region healing, preaching the truth, raising the dead, and casting out demons.  Jesus set a course, and everyone else could either get on board or watch from the dock as He left them behind.  He invited some, some of those accepted His invitation, and others didn’t.  But He didn’t deviate from His goal, His appointment with a cross.

I suspect our problem is more about not having that sense of divine goal or purpose.  We don’t seek the definitions of our lives which only our Master provides.  When we do, we don’t like the answers we get.  The purpose is behind us, but we won’t turn around.  The goal lies in a direction we’ve already rejected, so we don’t see it.  We look without turning the head or lifting the clutter of our lives.  What we want is for our Master to confirm our goals and purposes.  What He wants is for us to follow Jesus to a cross.  So, we check our calendars for the first opening we can find.  But, finding no convenient time to be tortured to death, we ask for another goal or purpose.  In a sense, we, once again, choose from the tree providing us the right and power to choose good and evil for ourselves.

Life lies at the end of a path through a method of humiliating death.  Death is found on every other path. Discipleship, repentance, and faith are the ingredients resulting in love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, and self-control.  We want those things, but balk at the price God charges.  Will we be crucified with Christ, and no longer live?  Will we live this life in the body by faith in the Son of God who has loved us and gave Himself for us?  We can’t have one with out the other.  That’s just how this play was written.  We can try to write another, but the warning from Scripture is that such a play is always a tragedy.

What’s your view through your knothole this morning?

Passion Week XXV

When it was day, the Council of elders of the people assembled, both chief priests and scribes, and they led Him away to their council chamber, saying, “If You are the Christ, tell us.” But He said to them, “If I tell you, you will not believe; and if I ask a question, you will not answer.  But from now on THE SON OF MAN WILL BE SEATED AT THE RIGHT HAND of the power OF GOD.”  And they all said, “Are You the Son of God, then?” And He said to them, “Yes, I am.”  Then they said, “What further need do we have of testimony? For we have heard it ourselves from His own mouth.” (Luke 22:66-71 NASB)

In Luke, we have an abbreviated version of the trial.  He skips the false witnesses.  There are no comments about Jesus building the temple in three days.  Missing are the frustrations of the religious leaders as they struggle to gain some way to accuse Him.  But in Matthew, Mark, and Luke we have the same allusion to Psalm 110.  And we have Jesus’ answer of “You have said it yourself” when asked if He were the Messiah and Son of God.  The order is reversed in the other two, but the content is essentially the same.

John doesn’t record much of a trial by the Jewish leaders.  What we have in Matthew and Mark is the greatest amount of detail.  Considering that there were no disciples present at this proceeding, it’s not hard to understand the lack of detail.  But in Luke we do have two peculiar details that are missing in the other three.  First is the odd answer Jesus gives to the question about whether or not He is the Messiah.  Jesus’ answer has three parts.  Only the third occurs in other Gospels.

Jesus says, “If I tell you, you might not believe.  But if I ask, you might not answer.”  Scholars are confused by the second part.  So am I, and I suspect so are you.  If Jesus asks what they might not answer?  Most translations use a confident future tense in English, “…you will not believe…”, “…you will not answer…”.  In Greek it’s actually subjunctive, which leaves open the potential without such certainty.  It’s the negation that lends itself to the choice of English translation.  With the combination of the verb tense and mode with the negation, the meaning is an ingressive sense, as in “do not begin to…”.  And that’s the other problem, if it’s taken that way, it’s a prohibition, not an indicative statement.  In other words, Jesus is telling them to not begin to believe, to not begin to answer.  It’s context that suggests otherwise, so what’s a translator to do?  They all pretty much do the same thing, done since 1611, translate it as a confident future.  Even so, it’s probably good to keep in mind that Jesus is saying that they won’t even begin to believe or answer.  He’s saying He’ll get nothing from them.

But what does that combination in Luke mean?  Why claim they won’t believe, why state they won’t answer?  While the answers to that are not really clear, I suspect that that Jesus is protesting that there is no dialogue here.  There is no option to discuss, but, rather, the discussion is all one-sided.  They want Jesus to only tell them what they want to hear so they will have an excuse to have Him killed.  They don’t want to hear anything else.  They don’t want to discuss, their minds and hearts are already set.

Don’t we do that though?  We have a point of view in our minds and hearts, and let nothing add or detract from that view?  I have struggled with that for a lot of my life.  The concept of this blog has come out of that struggle.  Have you also come to the place that you are convinced that you need the perspective of others?  It has been a tough lesson to learn that I need to listen more and speak less.  I do have my own views, and often I fall in love with those views over and above my Master.  I have the potential to idolize my own conclusions.  I hope I’ve grown out of that, but the potential will probably always haunt me.

Where are you in that?  Have you attached yourself to some view of God without realizing that it’s impossibly narrow?  Maybe it’s a teacher you believe makes no mistakes.  Maybe it’s a comment you’ve heard or read on a passage that has framed your entire view of God.  Whatever it is, it’s possible Jesus is asking you whether you will begin to believe and begin to answer so the two of you can dialogue.  The problem I faced was that my Master uses the views of others to help refocus my own; lots of others.  Sure I filter them, but I find truth in the oddest places, but only if I look, listen, and ask questions.  If I dialogue I learn.  If I’m open to belief I grow.

That’s my view this morning.  What’s your view?