Dear brothers and sisters,
This week I met with a man who is trying to understand Jesus. And let's face it, Jesus is no quick study. My new friend knows this so he has been letting Jesus do most of the talking and ask most of the questions. He knows it is easy to get Jesus wrong, to take Him the way we want Him to be and not the way He really is (see John 6:25-29). In the last two months this friend has read through the Gospel of John and the Gospel of Mark. He is letting Jesus introduce Himself. He is letting Jesus set the terms of their own friendship. This is the way things must be. You see there is no man within our experience that we can simply compare Jesus to. There is no well-established, well-rehearsed set of affections that we can simply transfer to Jesus like we would to a new friend at the office. A friendship with the Lord Jesus is just that, a friendship with the Jesus who is Lord. He is the radiance of God's glory, the firstborn over all creation, the image of the invisible God. We are his friends but we are not His equals. To know Him is to follow Him to follow Him is to believe Him to believe Him is to believe in Him to believe in Him is to be loved by Him. This last little bit, "to be loved by Him," is actually the first big step. It is the key that unlocks our hearts to give away the rest of our lives to the Redeemer and His purposes. It is knowing that "I" am "loved by Him" not just that "you are" that allows "me" to see Him for who he really is. And where do I come to know, how do I come to know, that Jesus loves me, the me that I am today, the me that is full of sin and strife and death and distraction?
In my reading this week I was reminded in a poignant way of that place where the seeker sees the Lord who loves. I came across an old story told by Cornelius Plantinga Jr. in his book, "Beyond Doubt: Faith Building Devotions on Questions Christians Ask" (Eerdmans, 2002). "Somewhere back in the early eighteen hundreds a young boy in
"On a lovely May morning the troops paraded to the very place where the murder had been committed. There the gallows stood - black crossbeam and two empty nooses. The criminals were led up the steps, and the grisly preparations were made. Then the infantrymen presented arms, the cavalrymen drew their swords, and the drummers lifted their sticks to start the rogues' tattoo. For just that instant, complete silence reigned across the field and through the crowd. And then, in that hush, a startled lark suddenly soared up from the foot of the gallows. Straight up it shot, as larks do, and the cascading joy of its singing seemed to come from nowhere but heaven. The young Scottish boy later said he could never forget that picture - the pure burst of loveliness in the May sky and, down below, two men kicking and twisting at the end of a rope.
"We have seen that same mixture of glory and death before. The disciples who see in Jesus Christ the image of God also see him humiliated and beaten by thugs. They see the face of God's glory puffy and running with other men's spit. They see God's Son groaning over his bloody work. At last they see him dead."
But then on the third day, "Jesus came and stood among them and said, 'Peace be with you!' After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. The disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord" (John 20:19-20) What love is this? What peace? A love and peace prepared for us through his body and blood on a cross. Peace of Christ, John
