God with Us (The Absence of the Ascension Report in Matthew) [Matthew 28.18-20] (1 May 2011)

The saying goes, “One must not lose sight of the forest for the trees.” Perhaps holds true for me, someone who likes to zoom in and analyze parts of scripture. But there are times when one must zoom out and take in and understand the big picture.

If you read the four Gospels carefully, trying to read as though this were the first time you were reading this wonderful story of Jesus, you will realize that the four Gospels are quite different from each other. In Mark, for example, Jesus’ manner of speaking is abrupt while in the other three Gospels Jesus often speaks at great length. Only John records the raising of Lazarus, surely one of the most remarkable of Jesus’ signs. Only Luke tells us that Jesus met two disciples on the road to Emmaus.

Today let us consider one way in which the Gospel according to Matthew is different from the others. This is no academic exercise, but an exploration of Matthew’s purpose. So do bear with me. Mark ends his Gospel in 16.8 with no human having seen the resurrected Jesus. Luke explicitly tells us about Jesus’ ascension, while John, having dotted his Gospel with indications that Jesus would return to the Father, ends the Gospel with talk about Jesus’ coming back, which obviously implies Jesus has gone.

Matthew, however, has nothing of the sort. You can search all you want but you will not find a clear reference to the ascension. And at the end, Jesus is still speaking to the disciples.

Why? Why would Matthew miss such an important event? We Christians wait for Jesus to return, which implies he has gone. Why has Matthew not mentioned or even alluded to this remarkable event?

Those who would like to ridicule the bible would speak of contradictions in the Gospels. And even Christians sometimes try to iron out the differences. But these are not contradictions. They are differences of perspective indicating different purposes. 

Just recently a book was published about Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. Whatever your take on it, would you expect it to be the same as previously written books? Just suggesting that is bizarre. Every book written on any person would be different if the writing were done honestly. It is when we are dishonest with the facts that we end up regurgitating what we have seen elsewhere.

John tells us in his Gospel that he has not written everything he could have written. This is not simply a statement of fact, but recognition of the limits of the very human process of writing about another human. We cannot write everything about a person. We have to pick and choose. And we pick and choose according to our purposes, according to our agendas.

And so we understand Matthew’s Gospel better not just by paying attention to what is contains, but also by trying to answer the question, “Why did he not include this?”

So why did he not mention the ascension? Why does Matthew end with no indication that Jesus was taken up? In order to understand, let us travel back through the Gospel. We will halt briefly at key places where Matthew differs from the other Gospels, either by including something that the others exclude or vice versa.

Our first pit stop is in the upper room during the Last Supper. John’s account is so remarkably different that comparison is pointless. But Mark and Luke give accounts that are very close to the one Matthew gives. But Matthew and Mark do not say that Jesus told us to eat the bread and drink the wine as a remembrance. Did Matthew not know that Jesus said this? Unlikely! Paul’s writings, easily the earliest of the New Testament writings already tell us that Jesus mentioned remembrance. So Matthew has chosen to exclude this. Something about his purpose precluded the inclusion of the command to remember Jesus while participating at the Lord’s Table.

Our next halt is in chapter 18, where Jesus is telling his disciples about church discipline. He says, “I tell you the truth, whatever you bind on earth will have been bound in heaven, and whatever you release on earth will have been released in heaven. Again, I tell you the truth, if two of you on earth agree about whatever you ask, my Father in heaven will do it for you. For where two or three are assembled in my name, I am there among them.” The other three Gospels do not include this passage on church discipline. Only Matthew has included it and we know that this passage has been misused and abused in church history by those who clamor after power. The possibility of misuse and abuse is evident even on a single reading. Despite this Matthew includes the passage that the other Gospel writers chose to omit. Something about his purpose must have indicated that this passage should been included.

Our trip back through Matthew’s Gospel takes us to Caesarea Philippi. Matthew, Mark and Luke report this incident. However, Matthew includes something that both Mark and Luke choose not to. Between Peter’s confession and the first time Jesus foretells his death, Matthew introduces the idea of the church. There Jesus says, “I will build my church and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” Matthew’s Gospel is the only one that speaks about the church directly. The two passages we just mentioned are where Matthew reports that Jesus spoke about the church. Were it not for these two passages, we would not have known that Jesus spoke about the church. The fact that Matthew has included both these passages indicates that he considered the church to be central to Jesus’ mission.

And so we must necessarily ask ourselves, “What does this word evkklhsi,a, normally translated with the word ‘church’, mean?” Why, for instance, does Luke use it 23 times in Acts but not in his Gospel? Why does this word occur 114 times in the New Testament but in the Gospels only in these two passages?

It is clear from the rest of the New Testament that the early Christians made a distinction between a Jewish gathering, which they called synagogue, and a Christian gathering, which they called evkklhsi,a. VEkklhsi,a referred to the community formed by and centered around Jesus after his crucifixion and resurrection.

There is one more stop we need to make. And here we will understand why Matthew diverges from the other Gospels as we have seen. Mathew’s Gospel is known for its scripture fulfillment passages. The first one we encounter is in the passage where the angel appears to Joseph in a dream. Matthew tells us that Jesus’ birth fulfills the Emmanuel prophecy. Jesus was to be God with us.

In the 1997 movie Air Force One is a remarkable clip that has gripped me because of the simple way in which it tells us a truth we have just touched on. So let us watch the clip.

[Play clip from Air Force One]

“Liberty Two Four is changing call signs. Liberty Two Four in now Air Force One.” Did you get that? What happened? How did a simple refueling plane become the flagship? Did it suddenly become as luxurious as the original Air Force One that went down? Did it develop superior speed or range or greater maneuverability? “No”, to all of those. It remained the same in every way except one. The President had boarded the plane. And that made all the difference.

In the same way Matthew certainly knew that Jesus had ascended. However, recording the ascension would be tantamount to saying that Jesus was not with us. You see, both John and Luke, who report extensively about Jesus’ leaving the earth, can do so only because they also have reported strongly about the Holy Spirit. But Matthew does not do that. Rather, he reports that in Jesus God is with us. To now report that Jesus has ascended would upset his applecart and make his story empty. No! Matthew does not record the ascension because, in his version of the Gospel, Jesus is God with us.

And if you asked Matthew why he used evkklhsi,a in two places in his Gospel when he refers to the community formed by and centered around Jesus after his crucifixion and resurrection, he would say, “Once Jesus is in a community, it must change call signs. As soon as Jesus comes on board a simple gathering becomes the church.”

In other words, without Jesus we would be just another of millions of gatherings of humans. But with Jesus we are the church. When Jesus is with us we can no more be just a gathering or synagogue, but become an evkklhsi,a or church.

At the start of his Gospel, Matthew tells us that Jesus is God with us. And he punctuates his Gospel with that affirmation.

At Caesarea Philippi, Jesus tells his disciple that he would build his church. Even though he says that Peter is the rock on which the church is built, it is Jesus who does the building. Only someone who is actually around can do the building! You see for Matthew Jesus is not speaking metaphorically, but is claiming that in a very real manner it is he who builds the church because he is God with us.

In chapter 18 Matthew tells us that Jesus said, “Where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there in their midst” not because he is being fanciful but because for him Jesus is God with us.

At the Last Supper, in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus says nothing of remembering him because for Matthew Jesus is God with us. He is here now. You don’t remember someone who is in the room! And so he tells us nothing about remembrance.= because Jesus is God with us.

And Matthew ends his Gospel with Jesus telling his disciples, “I will be with you always, to the end of the age.” And only a pathetic storyteller would ruin all this buildup by including a report about the ascension.

All of this leads us to a remarkable conclusion. For Matthew Jesus is not just God with us. Rather, for Matthew the church exists because Jesus is God with us.

Mission Accomplished [John 19.30] (22 April 2011)

The four Gospels do not give us the same perspective or provide the same information about the moments leading to Jesus’ death. Matthew and Mark tell us that Jesus cried out loudly and then breathed his last. Luke tells us that he gave his Spirit to the Father. John, however, tells us that Jesus said, “It is finished” before yielding up his life.

“It is finished.” By itself, quite an ambiguous statement. What does the word “it” refer to? What exactly has been finished? And as soon as we have answered that another question crops up: What does the word “finish” mean?

Is Jesus saying, “The wine is over?” Or is he saying, “My life is finished, my body is now broken, my spirit is crushed.” V. 30, by itself is a verse without hope. For Jesus could well be saying, “My hopes are now done for, they are finished, there is nothing to look forward to, God has abandoned me. I had hoped he would come to my rescue, but he hasn’t. And so there’s nothing more to do than die. It is finished.” If we take v. 30 by itself, we have no way of refuting these claims. V. 30, by itself, would seem to be the final statement of a gory defeat.

But we do not have only v. 30! Thank God for that! And we have in John an artist, a wordsmith who knows how to direct our attention where it needs to go simply by his choice of words. Many of you may have heard that the Greek word Jesus uses here is “tetele,stai” and that it is used only here and in v. 28. We must, however, consider two things. First, Jesus probably spoke only Aramaic and Hebrew, not Greek. So “tetele,stai” is John’s choice rather than a recollection of what Jesus had said. Second, to say that the word is used only here and in v. 28 is misleading. Would we consider “complete”, “to complete”, “completing”, “has completed”, “to be complete”, “has been completed”, and “completion” different? No! They are different forms of the same word, that would function differently in different sentences. In the same way, the root “tele,” is used as a verb, noun, adverb, adjective and participle no fewer than 90 times in the New Testament and 8 times in John’s Gospel.

Once we divest ourselves of the assumption that one particular form of the word, in this case “tetele,stai”, carries meaning, we open ourselves up to what John is telling us. For now we can answer the initial questions: “What does ‘it’ refer to?” and “What does ‘finish’ mean?”

There are two groups of words which the Gospels use to convey the ideas of fulfilment or completion. One is words with the root “plhro,” which the other Gospels use when talking about fulfilment of scripture. John also follows this practice, with one exception, here in v. 28 where, while mentioning scripture, he uses the second word. The second is the group of words we have here, with the “tele,” root, which the other three Gospels mainly use for phrases like “when Jesus finished talking” or “then comes the end”. In other words, they use it in a matter of fact way.

But John uses the words in the “tele,” group differently. Let us consider the uses other than “tetele,stai” in vv. 28, 30. The first time he uses it is in 4.34 where Jesus tells his disciples, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work.” Then in 5.36 Jesus again says, “The works that the Father has given me to complete testify on my behalf that the Father has sent me.” In his prayer in 17.4 he says, “I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do.” Again in his prayer in 17.23, while praying for us he prays, “that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me.” And finally here in v. 28 John tells us that Jesus said, “I thirst” “in order to fulfill scripture.” Since this last use is the exception we saw earlier, let us look at the other instances.

“My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work.” 

“The works that the Father has given me to complete testify on my behalf that the Father has sent me.”

“I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do.”

“That they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me.”

Each of these instances of a word from the “tele,” group links the word to the task the Father had given Jesus. They are all about Jesus completing the commission he had received from his Father.

So, according to John, when Jesus says, “It is finished” or “It has been completed” he is saying that he has completed the task for which his Father had sent him. And that task is not limited to what happened on the cross. To the contrary, his entire life was one which involved completion of his Father’s commission. And we can now see that the exception in v. 28 points not to a simple fulfilment of one verse of scripture. Rather, John is telling us that in Jesus’ death even his fulfilment of scripture is complete. 

You see, we make the grave mistake of thinking that Jesus’ only work was dying on the cross for us. That is important, critical, and absolutely necessary. But Jesus’ work was much more than that. We focus on the forgiveness of our sins because we are self centred. We want to know only how this man’s death benefits us. This is revealed in many of our catechisms. Indeed none of our creeds mention anything between his birth and his suffering under Pilate – an omission of 78 of the 89 chapters in the Gospels! Would we even be interested in this remarkable man were it not for the fact that his death benefits us?

Some preachers have gone even further and drawn up formulas for why Jesus had to be on the cross for a specific amount of time and that Jesus died only after he had paid for each and every sin I and you have ever committed or will ever commit. We make a fetish of the cross when we do this. Jesus’ obedience to the point of death is what is important and crucial. The time of day and the duration of his sufferings, do not really count. He could have said “it is finished” after fifteen minutes or fifteen hours. He could have said “it is finished” at noon or at sundown. As soon as the nails were driven in, as soon as backing out was an impossibility, he could have said, “it is finished”.

You see, according to John, when Jesus says “it is finished” what is at the front of his mind is obedience to his Father. Forgiveness of our sins, so important and crucial to us, and central to John, was like a corollary for Jesus. Its truth, important though it is for us, is only of secondary and derived importance. For John, the axiom, the unquestionable, irrefutable truth, the solid foundation on which that corollary rests, was his obedience.

Because, you see, it is not just the fact of ending up on the cross that is important. Two others managed to do it the very same day and place as Jesus. Getting crucified was not a big deal really. The Jewish historian Josephus reports that during the reign of Augustus many thousands of Jews were crucified in the Palestine region. No, it was not the fact of crucifixion that was important. Rather, it was the road that led Jesus there that was the important factor.

You see, Jesus ended on the cross not because he was a sinner, but precisely because he was not a sinner! He died precisely because he was obedient, precisely because he had done no wrong. He was obedient to the point of death on the cross. It was his obedience that put him there. You see, for John, the cross is not primarily about us and our sins. It is the crowning act of Jesus’ obedience to the Father for without that his death would have been empty – for him as well as for us. 

And so “it is finished” is not said to us, but to the Father. We can certainly draw out all the benefits that pour out for us from Jesus’ death. But for John “it is finished” is the completely obedient Son telling his Father, “I have obeyed you all my life. And it has put me here on this cross. I have obeyed you to the point of death. I am going to die now. Mission accomplished.”

Being Human by Imitating Christ [Philippians 2.5-8] (8 April 2011)

Now don’t get me wrong, I really don’t care for the product, or for the advertisement itself. But the recent TV ad for luminous inverters and batteries makes an important point. If you don’t remember the ad, allow me to jog your memory. Sachin Tendullar is at the crease, taking strike, but he has in his hands a hockey stick. The tag line insists on there being a match. Sachin and his bat go together, just as Luminous inverters and Luminous batteries go together. A very valid point. Some things are meant to go together.

Paul says much the same thing in his letter to the Philippians. Before we read the scriptures, let me ask you some leading questions: “Would you reprimand a dog for not having feline traits?” “Would you ask a penguin to fly?” “Would you insist that a whale breathe through gills?” One does not ask the ridiculous. One asks only what can reasonably be expected.

To carry this further, if I were to go up to a dog and say, “You should be more like a cat!” or to a penguin and say, “You should fly like other birds” or to a whale and say, “You should breathe like fish do” I should be locked up well and good – and not simply for speaking to animals, but for asking the ridiculous. We can reasonably expect from a being only what is appropriate to the nature of that being.

I don’t know about you, but I’m inclined to think two things: First, Paul was not a stupid person, asking people to do things against their nature. Second, the scriptures are given to us so we may live in light of their instructions. And so we come to Paul’s words to the church at Philippi.

[Read Philippians 2.5-8]

Paul begins by saying, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.” This should have been a key verse in St. Thomas à Kempis’ devotional work “The Imitation of Christ.” After all, that is exactly what Paul encourages. He wants us to imitate Christ. And so, the lack of a reference to this passage in a book titled “The Imitation of Christ” seems strange.

But if we go by the common interpretation of the passage, this exclusion is understandable. The common interpretation goes like this: Jesus was God, but did not think equality with God should be held on to. Rather, he emptied himself of his divine privileges and became human. He then humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death on the cross.

But this interpretation leads to two conclusions: First, if this is speaking of what Jesus did by virtue of being God, then it cannot apply to us! After all, you cannot ask a person who is not God to imitate a person who is God. It would be like asking a dog to meow! Second, if Paul expects us humans to imitate the divine Christ, he must have been off his rocker! Who but a madman would ask a person who is not God to imitate a person who is God?

This common interpretation reveals why Thomas à Kempis, though writing a book about imitating Christ, ignored the only passage in the New Testament that not only issues a direct call to such imitation, but also gives us a concrete example of what imitating Christ would look like. For à Kempis and many others, this passage is just not relevant for discipleship because it speaks of what someone who is God did. And we know that we are not God!

But as I said, I like to think Paul was not stupid and that the scriptures are given to us for our discipleship. So let us take a look again at the passage. Our critical verse is v.6. If we were to translate it word for word without bothering about it being proper English it would read: “Who in the form of God being, not something to be seized he considered to be equal with God.” Let me repeat: “Who in the form of God being, not something to be seized he considered to be equal with God.” That is horrible English so let us straighten it a bit to get: “Who, being in the form of God, considered equality with God was not something to be seized.”

Paul is drawing a contrast between Jesus and someone else, someone about whom it could be said, “Who, being in the form of God, considered equality with God was something to be seized.”

In Genesis we read about Adam, who was in the image of God. The words “image” and “form” are synonymous. And so we can say that Adam was in the form of God. But he did consider equality with God was something to be seized. And so he took what God had forbidden. He wanted to be equal with God. After all, that is precisely what the snake promises. But that was the way to death. And so elsewhere Paul says, “As in Adam all die.” That is, if we follow Adam’s example, we follow the trail that leads to death.

And to understand what Paul says about Jesus next, we need to turn to Psalm 8.4-6 where the Psalmist asks, “What are human beings that you are mindful of them; mortals that you care for them? Yet, you made them a little lower than God, and crowned them with glory and honour. You have given them dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under their feet.” The Psalmist has a lofty view of human beings. They are only just below God himself. Great though Adam’s fall was, this fact does not change. Human beings are still the stewards of God’s creation. They are still responsible for how they treat God’s creation. And unfortunately, they are still in a position to dominate creation.

But Paul tells us that Jesus emptied himself. Not of his divine prerogatives. That may be the case, but that is not Paul’s focus. Paul tells us that Jesus emptied himself of the prerogatives he has by virtue of being a human being. Jesus’ way recognizes that rule does not mean ruthlessness, that dominion does not imply domination.

When Paul says that Jesus took the form of a slave, it cannot refer to Jesus’ being born as a human, for humans are not slaves. Rather, it refers to his unflinching obedience to God. Though being a human, Jesus did not try to assert himself independently of God. You see, this makes sense because the only creatures who have asserted independence from God are humans! In fact, all of us have. Paul is telling us that Jesus, though being a human like all of us, chose instead to obey in the same manner as that in which a slave would obey – completely, totally, unreservedly, ungrudgingly.

And then Paul expresses a conundrum in the latter part of v.7. Jesus’ attitude was so strange for a human that many early Christians thought he had simply descended from heaven. Paul dispels this view by pointing to the fact that Jesus was born and that every interaction people had with Jesus showed that Jesus was truly human. His point is precisely to ward off thinking that would make Jesus’ divinity the reason for not following him. We cannot say, “Jesus is God. So he could do all of the things he did. I am not God. And so I cannot.” No! Paul will have nothing of that kind of thinking.

Paul, rather, insists that Jesus did all of this precisely because he understood what it means to be human. To be human is to obey God. Jesus obeyed God not because he was divinely empowered to do so. Rather, he obeyed God as a human being. Or more to the point, he obeyed God because he was a human being. Being human and obeying God go together just like Sachin and his bat!

For Paul, Jesus’ humbling himself and taking the form of a slave is not something extraordinary. No! For Paul humility and obedience to God are the quintessence of what it means to be human. Jesus’ obeying God is not to be viewed as some kind of aberration. Rather, our refusal to obey God is the aberration. Like Sachin trying to bat with a hockey stick.

Once we realize that Paul is not focusing on Jesus’ divinity but on his humanity, we can recover the purpose of this passage. Paul can only tell us humans, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus” if he tells us humans about Jesus the man.

And Paul tells us about the man Jesus, who obeyed God so completely that he went all the way to the cross. We should not be morbid here and conclude that all of us should be nailed to crosses. That would be foolish. Paul is not making death or crucifixion compulsory when you imitate Jesus. But he does say that imitation of Jesus might lead to death.

As we move through this Lenten season and focus on the death of Jesus, it pays to ponder what the breaking point of our faith might be. How far will we go before we say, “No further”? At what point will our obedience waver? We all know that our obedience falters all too quickly. We all know that we capitulate with the slightest pressure. We know that we are more like Adam than Jesus, wanting to do our own thing rather than submitting daily to the will of our loving Father. And we might get discouraged. We might use our frailty as an excuse for seeing this passage as being relevant for us.

However, just as one does not ask a dog to behave like a cat, one also does not ask an obedient dog to obey! One does not command a diligent worker to work diligently. One does not exhort an honest labourer to labour honestly. The existence of a command presupposes the breaking of the command. In other words, Paul’s words, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus” are addressed precisely to and for the benefit of those who do not yet have the mind of Christ. Precisely to those who habitually imitate Adam is given the call to imitate Christ.

Sustenance for Life [John 6] (6 March 2011)

The Gospel of John ends with the words, “There are many other things that Jesus did. If every one of them were written down, I suppose the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.” We could say that this is hyperbole or exaggeration or bring out all sorts of obscure grammatical terms. But at the bottom of it all is the statement of someone absolutely besotted by Jesus, someone who had experienced Jesus’ love and who in response grew to love Jesus deeply. For the writer you can see is being pulled in two ways: On the one hand by the desire to tell people about Jesus; on the other hand by the desire to tell it all. You can imagine this writer thinking, “Just one more thing, just one more thing” but then being stopped by the thought, “If I don’t finish this soon, no one will get to hear about my Jesus.”

And so it is with anyone who reads the Gospel of John. It is infectious, the passion of the author remarkably contagious. And within each episode of the Gospel we find layer upon layer, link upon link that draws us, in the words of C.S. Lewis in another context, “Further up and further in.”

And so it was with me as I was preparing for today. The question was not, “What can I say?” but “Where do I stop?” So I must make a disclaimer. I will be considering the passage from only one point of view, disregarding all the other contexts that draw us further up and further in. Fortunately, even this one context will draw us further up and further in.

Let us first recapitulate the backdrop of our passage. Chapter 6 of the Gospel begins with the only miracle – sign in the language of the fourth Gospel – that is recorded in all four Gospels – the feeding of the 5000. You all know the story. A large crowd had come to hear Jesus speak. And he spoke for a long time. And the people were growing hungry. So Jesus asked them to sit down. And starting with what he had – 5 barley loaves and 2 small fishes – he provided a meal for the crowd.

John in v. 14 tells the reader that the feeding of the 5000 was a miraculous sign. It never ceases to amaze me how some people try to debunk the miracles in the bible. Just recently, as I was preparing for today, I came across a website in which the person said that Jesus had hidden a lot of food in the tall grasses that grow in the region. Then he had the people sit down and then picked up the food he had hidden and began distributing it. This is ridiculous for two reasons.

First, it would indicate that Jesus knew before hand that he was going to feed a crowd. And that would indicate prescience – or in other words, a miracle in itself!

Second, it betrays the view of technologically advanced people to think that the possession of technology indicates the possession of wisdom. The people of the first century were not as gullible as we think. They may not have had cars and iPods, but in many ways they were probably wiser than we. If Jesus bent down to pick up loaves of bread, they would have eaten but not tried to make him a king!

But anyway, John tells us that feeding the 5000 was a sign. And we will take his word for it!

Then John tells us about the episode in which Jesus walks on the water. And finally we come to the passage for today. The people who were fed the previous day, have come looking for Jesus and they find him. There is a short exchange in which Jesus tells them that they have come not because they saw the sign, but because he filled their tummies. He then tells them to believe in the one whom God has sent. The people correctly understand that Jesus is referring to himself and so they ask him, “What miraculous sign will you perform, so that we may see it and believe you?”

Come again? When Jesus said that they had seen a miraculous sign, no one objected. They all accepted that they had seen a sign. Why then are they asking for a miraculous sign now? Jesus normally looks down upon the attitude of seeking for signs. Why then does he not do this here? And why does he not say, “I just performed a miraculous sign for you yesterday. How dare you ask for another sign?” In fact by responding the way he does, Jesus actually encourages their asking him for a sign.

So the questions we must ask ourselves are: Why was the feeding of the 5000 not enough of a sign? What exactly were the people expecting from Jesus? And how does Jesus meet their expectation?

The focus of the entire discussion between Jesus and the crowd is the provision of manna through Moses. So what were Moses’ raw materials? Nothing! All he had was a bunch of grouches according to the bible! We can understand. Don’t we also getting grouchy and irritable when hungry? And what did Moses do? He went to God who then provided the Israelites with manna. Moses did not so much as touch the stuff! Every morning the ground would be covered with the sweet white flakes.

Jesus, on the other hand, had raw materials. He had five small loaves and two fishes. While making food multiply is in no way a small thing, he did have something to work with. It was not a provision from out of thin air.

The provision of manna was one that referred back to God’s original act of creation in which he made something out of nothing. Jesus did nothing of the kind. Out of something, Jesus made more of the something! Impressive, but not conclusive. It was not simply a difference of quantity, but of quality.

What were the people expecting? In Deuteronomy 18.15, Moses says, “The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you.” This prediction of a prophet like Moses led to a saying common in the first century, “'As was the first Redeemer, so shall be the final Redeemer; as the first Redeemer caused the manna to fall from heaven, even so shall the second Redeemer cause the manna to fall.” The provision of manna was considered to be the non-negotiable in many quarters of Jewish thinking in the first century.

After the sign of feeding the 5000 the people wanted to enthrone or anoint Jesus as king. They were sort of convinced. Now they asked for the proof. Perhaps they were saying, “If you can multiply bread, maybe you can provide bread out of nothing!” They had seen a sign – the feeding of 5000. Now they were asking for the sign – bread from heaven.

How does Jesus respond? In quite an astounding manner to say the least. ‘I am the bread of life, the living bread, the true bread from heaven.’ I’m sure had I been there I would have been completely bowled over. What does it mean to say that a man is bread? The metaphor wrenches the listener apart. If you take it literally, as Jesus’ audience proceeds to do, you cannot help but be scandalized, for it would mean nothing short of cannibalism.

I feel sorry for Jesus’ audience. Had I been there I would have taken him literally and would have gotten scandalized. But the thing is, Jesus speaks the metaphor and immediately tells the audience how to interpret it. He says, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry and whoever believes in me will never become thirsty.”

What is clear is that Jesus links the consumption of this bread with approaching him and believing in him. And a closer look at v. 35 reveals more of what Jesus had in mind.

The verbs ‘come’ and ‘believe’ in the phrases ‘whoever comes to me’ and ‘whoever believes in me’ have a form that indicates continuous or repeated action. So we could translate the verse as ‘whoever keeps coming to me will never be hungry and whoever keeps believing in me will never be thirsty.’

However, the words for ‘hungry’ and ‘thirsty’ differ in form. The first suggests a possibility that was averted while the second suggests a certainty that will be achieved. The first focuses on the past while the second focuses on the future. We could attempt to translate the verse as ‘whoever keeps coming to me would have, since the first instance, never been hungry and whoever keeps believing in me will never ever be thirsty.’

Jesus, in this one verse, covers the entire span of the life in Christ. From the moment a person first approaches Jesus to the undefined future, hunger and thirst are eliminated.

But here we must be careful. Jesus is not talking about having our stomachs filled and our throats wet! He makes this clear when he says, “Do not work for food that perishes.” Jesus is not stupid! He knows that many of his disciples will experience physical hunger and thirst.

He also demands a lot from his audience. He expects them to be steeped in their scriptures. He expects them to remember key elements from the Old Testament. He is alluding to that powerful passage in Isaiah 55 which begins with the themes of hunger and thirst. The prophet calls out, “Hey, all who are thirsty, come to the water! You who have no money, come! Buy and eat!” Later, through the prophet, God asks, “Why do you toil for that which does not satisfy?”

All of this, of course, begs the question, “What then does satisfy?” What can fill the deepest human need? What can quench our deepest longing?

Jesus gives the answer to these questions, but we need Isaiah to provide us with the lenses we must wear in order to see clearly what Jesus is saying. Through Isaiah God says, “My ways are higher than your ways.” That is, my solution to things will be something you will never be able to even dream of.

Isaiah talks about the rain watering the earth and accomplishing things. And he begins to draw an analogy. The rain is to the ground as God’s word is to…and then he is unable, unready, unprepared for God’s higher ways. And so he completes it with … God’s purposes.

But here Jesus completes the analogy. The ground will dry up and be unfruitful and fallow without rain just as humans will wither and be ever unsatisfied, crying out for more, yearning to be filled, craving for things, without him.

Through his higher, incomprehensible wisdom God has made us in such a way that we can only be satisfied by a person, his Son. 

John’s entire Gospel can be seen as an extended commentary on Isaiah 55, on the Word that comes from God to accomplish God’s purposes before returning to God.

The very nature of the purposes and the manner in which God accomplishes them reveal how incomprehensible his wisdom is to us were he not to reveal it to us.

And the purpose of God according to John’s Gospel and revealed in our text today is to satisfy the yearning of the parched human heart. Alienated from God, we yearn for something we are unable to comprehend or apprehend. And try as we might we cannot satisfy that need with the things of the world.

Only a relationship with the living God, through his Son Jesus, can satisfy us. Not a once and for all satisfaction. Like any living vibrant relationship this one must also be nurtured daily. We keep coming. We keep believing. While Jesus encompasses the entire Christian life from past to future in one remarkable verse, the Christian life is neither a past to be cherished nor a future to dream of but a present reality to be lived and experienced and enjoyed daily.

And so just as God daily gave the Israelites manna in the parched desert, so also God daily gives us the true bread from heaven, his Son Jesus.

A Bride at a Well [John 4] (17 October 2010)

This is one of my favourite passages in the whole bible and I was quite thrilled when Santosh asked me to preach from it. With every reading, every study, new light gets thrown on the passage. New meanings emerge, like waves at a beach, each carrying the previous meaning a little further. 

Before we proceed let us understand the scene, the geography, for only then will we be in a position to understand the nature of this encounter. John tells us in v. 4 that it was necessary for Jesus to go through Samaria.

Actually, the practice of many Jews was to cross the Jordan eastward near Jericho, incidentally where Jesus probably was conducting the baptisms mentioned in this passage, then go north along the eastern bank of the Jordan in the province of Perea, and then cross over to the west near the confluence of the River Jabbok and the Jordan, thereby avoiding any contact with the Samaritans.

So if John tells us it was necessary, it cannot mean that this encounter was necessary in a geographical sense. Rather, we must conclude that the encounter in this passage was a crucial one in God’s plan, not just a nice happenstance.

In today’s passage we find Jesus at the well near Sychar. The road from Jericho to Jerusalem and then north to Nazareth in Galilee did run through Sychar. But the well was about half a mile away from the road, toward the east of the city. So Jesus actually would have gone through Sychar, and then walked another half mile east to rest near the well. Why? Was there no inn or tavern where he could have gotten a decent midday meal and rested his feet? And then he must have sent his disciples back to the city to get food. Does this not seem like simply an excuse to get rid of the disciples for a while? It was necessary for him to be at this well, but it was necessary also that the disciples not be there!

Now the well itself is an important symbol in the Old Testament. We in this city today, where the water supply is inconsistent at best have a different important symbol – the borewell. In the Old Testament scenes at wells have immense significance. Abraham’s servant, sent to find a bride for Isaac, finds Rebecca at a well. Jacob, fleeing from Esau, and looking for a place to settle, finds Rachel at a well. Moses, fleeing from Egypt, finds Zipporah at a well. The Samaritans, whose faith centred around the patriarchs and Moses knew these well scenes well. The well was where the towering figures of their faith found their brides.

Finally, we also need to take a close look at some of John’s comments for they are telling. Our passage is sandwiched between Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus and his encounter with the nobleman. At the end of the encounter with the nobleman, John tells us that healing the nobleman’s son was the second miracle that Jesus did, the first being when he changed water to wine at Cana. What this specifically means is that the encounter with the woman involved no miracle. This is important so hold on to that thought.

Another comment John makes is in v. 9. After the woman asks Jesus how he asks her for water, John tells us, “For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.” Yet, when the disciples return, John tells us they were surprised to find him talking with a woman. Why does John bother with these two bits of information? Why should we know whom the Jews did not associate with? Why should we know what the disciples were thinking? As Pastor Ken told us last week, John has had a good 60 years in which to ponder what he will write in his Gospel. If he has written something, it must be for a good reason.

John is telling us not to be like the disciples. John is telling us, this is primarily an encounter between a Jew and a Samaritan, their respective genders are incidental to the encounter. John is telling us that the entire exchange between Jesus and the woman should be understood as being between a Jew and a Samaritan.

Now let us see what happens in this exchange. Jesus asks the woman for a drink. She asks him how he, being a Jew, asks a Samaritan for water. Jesus then introduces the concept of living water. The woman accurately observes that Jesus has no implements with which to draw water from this well. So she concludes that there must be more to this man than meets the eye.

“Surely you are not greater than our patriarch Jacob who first dug this well so that centuries later we still can draw from it.” For Jacob, the patriarch, did not simply draw water from this well. By digging the well, he had provided generations of Samaritans with water. Indeed the Empress Helena had built a church over the well, providing a small passage down to the well. The well was found to be 35 feet deep and even in the seventeenth century there was 5 feet of water in it. Of course, human propensity to throw garbage just about anywhere has killed the well.

Jesus realizes that the woman is catching on. So he extends the metaphor. “Drink of the water I give you and you yourself will become a source of this water.”

Now the woman realizes that not only is this man claiming to be equal to Jacob. He is indeed claiming to be far greater! Now the Samaritans held to a Moses centred doctrine rather than a David centred one. This is only expected since the Northern kingdom of Israel, which later became Samaria, separated itself from the Southern kingdom of Judah ruled by David’s descendents. The Samaritans were looking for the Prophet like Moses of Deuteronomy 18.15. 

When Jesus extends the metaphor, the woman realizes that he is claiming to be the prophet like Moses that the Samaritans awaited. Only that prophet could have a gift such as the one Jesus claims to have.

She understands that he is claiming to have a gift that only a fool would refuse. And she is no fool. So she asks Jesus for the gift. Give me this water. And if this were indeed that prophet, then the Messianic age would have started and physical thirst would have been abolished. So she boldly declares her faith by saying, “Give me this water, so that I may not have to keep coming here.” She is not running away from her problems. She is challenging Jesus to live up to his words. She has not misunderstood Jesus. She has understood him better than we understand him. If he is the Messiah then his blessings must infuse our physical world as well, not just our spiritual world. Jesus’ blessings cannot only be pie in the sky by and by!

To her statement of faith Jesus says, “Go call your husband and come back.” If this were literal, it just does not make sense. Remember, we already said that this encounter does not involve any miracle, even the miracle of revealing to the woman her past. If Jesus had revealed her past, he would have been doing a miracle. Yet, John goes to great pains to indicate both the first and the second miracles and no other!

If we take the reference to husband as literal, then we have to explain why from the notion of living water, Jesus jumps to the woman’s past, then she jumps to his being a prophet and to worshipping on a mountain. The whole passage then seems like a hodgepodge of disjointed segments that are as immiscible as oil and water.

But if we take our cue from the Gospel itself, which tells us that Jesus is doing nothing miraculous in this encounter, then we cannot take this talk of husbands as literal. It must be symbolic. But symbolic of what?

In 2 Kings 17 we read that the king of Assyria settled what later became Samaria with people from five nations – Babylon, Cuthah, Avva, Hamath and Sepharvaim – who built places of worship to their gods. The Samaritans became corrupted and worshipped these gods. Then the king of Assyria sent a Jewish priest to Samaria to teach the residents how to worship God. But they did not worship only God. They also worshipped other gods.

In light of the marriage metaphor used by many prophets to describe the relationship between God and Israel, we draw from 2 Kings 17 that the Samaritans had five husbands – namely the gods of Babylon, Cuthah, Avva, Hamath and Sepharvaim. Then they turned to a faith which mixed worship of God with these foreign gods. In other words, currently the Samaritans were not in a covenant relationship with any god because the true God cannot be worshipped along with other gods.

As soon as Jesus mentions the five husbands and the one who is not a husband, the woman, who is very astute, recognizes that this is the kind of language the Old Testament prophets used to describe the relationship of God with Israel. 

So she says, “I can see that you are a prophet.” Not because he had told her all her dark secrets. John has already told us not to see this encounter as containing anything miraculous. She recognizes a prophet because he is denouncing incorrect worship. A prophet’s primary task was not to tell people their secrets or to reveal the future, but to call people back to worshipping God correctly.

And so she continues with the subject of worship. “Where should we worship?” is her question. Here on Mount Gerizim as believed by the Samaritans or in Jerusalem as believed by the Jews?

Jesus also continues with the subject of worship and makes it clear that in the future the place of worship will be rendered meaningless for what would matter is that people worshipped in Spirit and truth.

Later in the Gospel, in chapter 7, Jesus says, “If anyone is thirsty, let them come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within them.” You can search night and day for an Old Testament passage that mentions streams of living water flowing from a person and you will not find it. But we have just seen Jesus, God’s Word become flesh, make this promise to the woman! Jesus is citing himself as Scripture! What a wonder. And in chapter 7 John explains what Jesus told the woman. The living water is the Spirit.

And so we see what the encounter with the Samaritan woman is all about. It is not about Jesus’ telling the woman her secrets. Rather, it is about Jesus as the Bridegroom of the New Israel wooing God’s lost people of Samaria to re-enter a covenant relationship with the Father in which each one of them will learn from the Spirit that flows within them how to worship the Father. And he does it in much the same way as the towering figures of Samaritan faith found their brides – at a well.

Grace That Terrifies [Luke 1.26-38] (16 December 2001)

Accompanying Presentation (opens in a new window)

You have to hand it to George Lucas! When it comes to mimicking the gospel story and certain particulars about Jesus’ life, no one today comes closer or does a slicker job of it. To the careful listener, little phrases reveal how indebted Mr. Lucas is to the biblical writers. Of course, he will most likely deny my claim, probably because he and millions of his fans consider him an ingenious storyteller. However, before we go into the details of his indebtedness, let us read the scripture for today.

[Read Luke 1.26-28]

I see a number of parallels. In The Phantom Menace, Anakin Skywalker’s mother tells Qui-Gon Jinn, “There was no father.” There was no father! Anakin has no human father. Just like Jesus. What about Anakin’s nickname Ani? If you were to take a class on biblical Hebrew, in the second week or so you would learn that Ani in Hebrew means, “I am.” Whoa! That little twerp has a self-referential name, just like the God of the Old Testament, the name that Jesus then claims to have authority to use. But it does not stop there! Could Anakin’s last name, Skywalker, be yet another allusion to Jesus, but here in an attempt to trump Jesus? Jesus is, after all, only the sea-walker! Anakin is a step above, the Skywalker! And we could go into the entire Star Wars plot and we will find more similarities. That is the task for a different day and a different setting.

However, Lucas’ superficiality shows up in the meaning he gives these similarities and in some things that are distinctive in the Gospels. And it is to these that we must now turn. Unlike most of my sermons, I am going to give you a partial roadmap right at the start. This is because we will be exploring Luke’s theological brilliance by drawing out meaning from a few phrases in the passage we just read. Before we do that, however, I wish to make a disclaimer.

We have four Gospels in the New Testament. All of them tell the same story. However, all of them are different. They tell the same story in four different ways, with four different sets of purposes, and with four different expectations of the reader or listener. Let us not conflate the four Gospels into one and try to get one story. For in so doing, we will have to discard precisely those elements that do not fit our storytelling scheme. If, then, we consider Luke’s Gospel inspired, let us see what Luke was led to tell us, what nuances he was led to bring out in this story, what implications he would expect us to draw from his telling of the story. So let us now get to the roadmap.

We will focus on four parts of the conversation between Mary and Gabriel that are loaded with theological insight. First, we will deal with the initial words of Gabriel, “Greetings, favored one!” Second, we will look at the next phrase in his greeting, “The Lord is with you.” Third, we will address Mary’s question, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” Fourth, we will look at Gabriel’s reply, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.”

Our passage begins with Gabriel appearing to Mary and saying, “Greetings, favored one.” How do we visualize this? Now, George Lucas’ creation is not the only one that wanders into the issues with which we are dealing. The movie Dogma also does the same. I recall the scene in which Metatron, the voice of God, blasts his way into the bedroom of Bethany, the heroine, to tell her that God had chosen her to be the savior of the world. Just as an aside, Jewish Hekhalot mystics in the 2nd century AD coined the name, Metatron, as another name for the archangel, Michael. In the movie, Metatron is an angry being, quite disgruntled with the job of having to be the voice of God to humans who never listen. Since Dogma is parodying the Gospel accounts, it misses two very important elements. Gabriel tells Mary, “Greetings, favored one.” Later he tells her, “You have found favor with God.” Two elements missing in the movie are the two that are most crucial to this passage in Luke. First, the notion that Mary is favored by God. We will consider the second shortly.

In the Old Testament, we have one example of someone finding favor with God. Can anyone recall whom? Noah! In Genesis 6.8 we read, “But Noah found favor in the sight of the Lord.” And what was Noah’s task? God was using him to save the entire human race. By using the same phrase, Gabriel was telling Mary that she too was to be used in a like manner.

In Star Wars, Anakin too is supposed to be the great savior. However, his conception was inexplicable. His mother had no clue whatsoever. The midi-chlorians, the organisms that communicate the will of the Force are as impersonal as the Force itself. They conceive the child without bothering to relate to the mother. Anakin’s mother was neither blessed nor cursed by the midi-chlorians. She was just a vessel for the fulfillment of their prophecy.

Not so in the bible! Mary, in and of herself, had found favor with God. Just as no one but Noah could have done what God did through him, so also no one but Mary could have done what God did through her.

However, this was no quaint greeting, as though Gabriel had appeared and said a soft “hello” or “God loves you” or something like that. It was no ordinary greeting. And Mary knew that. That is why we read, “she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.” That is, she knew that this was an extraordinary greeting and wondered what kind of extraordinary task she was to be given. For to be the recipient of God’s favor is not, as we might suppose, a thing of comfort. Rather, to be the recipient of God’s favor is to have your world shaken to the core! God’s favor is unsettling. God’s grace is grace that terrifies!

Gabriel also tells Mary, “The Lord is with you.” Mary was assured of God’s presence. We often use words lightly. We say, “The Lord be with you” or “peace be with you” or simply “peace” without understanding the implications. The phrase appears in the Old Testament not as often as we might expect or even hope. Rather, we read it at choice moments. We read it when Jacob has his dream, only to see him then work as a slave for his father-in-law, only to see him then struggle with God and leave the struggle with a limp. The phrase shows up when God appears to Moses at the burning bush. And we then see Moses’ struggles with the Egyptians and with the Israelites. The phrase shows up in God’s calling Jeremiah as a prophet. And we see Jeremiah being beaten, thrown in prison, lowered into quicksand, and dragged off to Egypt by the people who refused to listen to him. I do not know about you, but to hear God say, “I am with you” is not like a warm embrace! This is not a hug from a doting father.

It is very different from the trite, “May the Force be with you” often uttered in the Star Wars movies. In the movies, that phrase just serves to remind the viewer the world that has been created on the screen. It is a world permeated by the Force. If it were not for the need to remind today’s viewer who has extremely bad short-term memory, the phrase could well be replaced by a sweet “Goodbye” or “Have a good one” in most places.

To the contrary, the words, “The Lord is with you,” pave the way for a life of struggle, a life of uncertainty. God says these words before Jacob, Moses, and Jeremiah enter their struggles so that they will have something to hold on to when times get rough and doubt sets in. To hear the words, “The Lord is with you” then is not to be assured of a smooth road ahead. Rather, it is to know that God says these words precisely because the road ahead is horrific. Again, to hear that God is going to grace you with his presence is to know that there are untold struggles ahead! God’s presence is disquieting. God’s grace is grace that terrifies.

So we come to Mary’s question, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” We must let Mary be Mary, a young Jewish girl in the first century. Gabriel had said, “And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” What did Mary understanding Gabriel to be telling her?

The references to David’s throne and to a kingdom without end would have made it clear that Gabriel was announcing the birth of the Davidic Messiah. This would have been good news to Mary in and of itself. However, there was a problem—Mary was still a virgin. She was betrothed to Joseph but they had not consummated their relationship. Like her contemporaries, Mary might also have been hoping to be the mother of the Messiah. And like her contemporaries, she probably had no expectation of a virginal conception.

Rather, she expected that this son would be born through the normal human process. To be the mother of the Messiah was a glorious thing. Imagine! Some years in the future, her son would ride into Jerusalem and vanquish the Romans. He would establish God’s Messianic kingdom centered at Jerusalem, with renewed Temple worship. What glory! And the cooking he would crave would be Mary’s! He would wear robes that she had sewn! And when he married—yes, they expected the Messiah to get married—he would marry the woman Mary chose! What glory!

This Wednesday the first of The Lord of the Rings trilogy subtitled The Fellowship of the Ring will be released. Alice and I are going with a few of you to see it. If others of you are interested, let me know. The three books revolve around a haunting poem:

Three rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,

Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,

Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,

One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,

One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bin them

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

At the beginning of the book, the ring has come into the possession of Frodo, a young Hobbit. In a conversation with Gandalf, the wizard, Frodo learns of the immense power of the ring and wishes to have nothing to do with it. He tells Gandalf that, since Gandalf knew much more about the ring, he was better suited to destroy it than was Frodo. Here is an excerpt from the book that will hopefully entice you to read it and then watch the movie.

[Read from The Fellowship of the Ring, p. 60. The Lord of the Rings can be purchased from Amazon outside India and from Flipkart inside India. Page references will vary!]

Frodo thinks like us. If the ring is so powerful, surely one with more power is best suited to deal with it. Mary and other Jewish women also thought in much the same way. To be the Messiah was glorious. To be the Messiah’s mother surely was the most glorious thing that could happen to a woman.

But Gandalf reveals an insight that we often overlook. Frodo was the best choice to care for the powerful ring precisely because his lack of power made him lack ambition. His meager status made it impossible for him to have visions of grandeur. So also with Mary. To be the Messiah might be a glorious thing. But this Messiah was to carry around with him the shame of a dubious birth. And he would die an disreputable death on a Roman stake. And Mary would have to share in her son’s shame. To be the mother of this Messiah was to be willing to carry around with you the stigma of illegitimate birth. After all, how many people would have believed her when she said that this child had been conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit? And Mary would eventually have to watch her son die seemingly cursed by God. Such shame!

We do not see this in Lucas’ epic. The world Lucas paints is not a moral world like the one Jesus lived in. Anakin’s conception without a father results only in admiration for the boy. The mother, once again, is only a vessel, neither loved, nor despised, by those around her. Having violated her, by imposing their miraculous conception on her, the midi-chlorians spare her the joy and terror of participating in most of her son’s life.

But God did not spare Mary the joy and the terror. And right from the start, right from Jesus’ conception to his crucifixion and resurrection, Mary had to realize that God’s actions are not predictable. She had to realize that to be the person through whom God acts is to have your expectations altered. God’s actions are universe shattering. God’s grace is grace that terrifies.

Finally, we come to Gabriel’s response, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you.” Gabriel also points to the fact that Elizabeth had conceived though she had been barren. What the angel was saying is that God had overcome Elizabeth’s barrenness. God would also overcome the obstacle of Mary’s virginity. And Gabriel tells Mary how. The language used appears in only once in the Old Testament in Genesis 1.2. “The earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while the spirit of God hovered over the face of the waters.” Here we see the juxtaposition of God’s spirit and the language of hovering or overshadowing.

In The Phantom Menace, we learn that the midi-chlorians are the ones responsible for Anakin’s conception. They are symbionts. Qui-Gon Jinn tells Anakin that the midi-chlorians could not exist without humans and that humans could have no knowledge of the Force without the midi-chlorians. It is important to understand what is said. The midi-chlorians depend on humans for their existence. Humans could, on the other hand, live without the midi-chlorians. We would just not have knowledge of the Force. In Lucas’ world that might be undesirable. But it is not life threatening! Human life is necessary for midi-chlorian life, but not vice-versa.

In contrast, Genesis tells us that creation was God’s initiative. God’s Spirit existed prior to and apart from creation. Creation needs God’s Spirit to exist, not vice-versa. God’s Spirit hovered over the void and filled it with life. In the same way, Gabriel tells Mary that God’s Spirit would hover over her empty womb and fill it with life. The allusion to Genesis, however, leads us to realize that this is no ordinary life. Rather, the life to be formed in her is so special that only language used in relation to the original act of creation is appropriate. This life marks a new creation.

God had made the first creation from the void. And he had made it very good. However, humans spoiled creation. God could have decided to scrap it all. In fact, the Old Testament tells us that he did consider that option a few times. In the end, however, he decided to do what he does best, to let his grace abound in the context of our sinfulness, to bring life out of death. Rather than scrap creation and begin afresh, God decides to bring good out of his first creation itself. Into the morass of sinfulness, he sends his Spirit to birth a new creation. A new creation with paradoxical laws in which a person can be human and divine, in which the way to rule is by serving, in which self-surrender is the way to self-realization, in which the humiliation of the cross is the glory of the Messiah.

We do not see this reversal in Lucas’ world. Rather, in the Star Wars universe the light and dark sides of the Force are in perpetual battle. There is no reversal, nothing new. There are only cycles that repeat endlessly.

However, in the bible the action of God’s Spirit creates something new. Mary realizes this slowly. She realizes how awesome, how awful, it is to be acted upon by God’s Spirit. She realizes that to be acted on by God’s Spirit is to be faced with a new reality, a new way of living. God’s Spirit recreates our world. Indeed, God’s grace is grace that terrifies!

This is the message of Christmas then. We have made it trivial by speaking of it merely as a celebration of Jesus’ birth. We have reduced it to a family holiday. We send cards to those who send cards to us. These aren’t bad things. It is good to celebrate Jesus’ birth. It is good to celebrate with family. It is good to tell loved ones that we are thinking of them as we celebrate. But there is much more! So much more!

Gabriel told Mary the challenge of Christmas. It is this: God’s favor is unsettling. God’s presence is disquieting. God’s actions are universe shattering. God’s Spirit recreates our world.

Is this comfort? What about the message of peace on earth and goodwill to humans? Ah! There’s the bite! There’s the paradox! To those who embrace God’s grace in all its awe-inspiring terror, the challenge of Christmas becomes the message. To them the unsettling favor will become a sure foundation. To them the disquieting presence will become the source of peace. For them the actions that shatter our universe will become the reason for hope. Moreover, the Spirit that replaces our old world with a new one will become the source of power to live in the new reality.

Are we willing to embrace God’s grace in all its awe-inspiring terror? Are we willing to say, as Mary did, “Here I am, the servant of the Lord” and become a powerful instrument in his hands? Are we ready to face up to daunting opposition in the course of serving God? Are we primed to see God remove the obstacles and show us that “nothing will be impossible with God”? Are we, after all, bold enough to let his Spirit show us a new way of living, a way of living markedly different from what we might be used to? If we are, then, though God’s grace is grace that terrifies, we are truly those to whom God says, “Do not be afraid!”

To the Ends of the Earth [Acts 11:19-13:3] (2 September 2001)

Accompanying Presentation (opens in a new window)

Since the first week of July we have been learning from the first few chapters of Acts. Today will be final message of nine messages in this series. Before proceeding let us recap what we have learnt so far.

In the first sermon on Acts 1 we saw that the disciples were told to wait for the outpouring of the Spirit because the Spirit would usher in a new era during which we need to be very sensitive to the promptings of the Spirit. Each situation that confronts us needs to be evaluated for its own merit. What worked yesterday might not work today.

Then from Acts 2 we saw that the death and resurrection of Jesus had changed things at a cosmic level. So great was the change that the new age of the Spirit had begun while the old age characterized by enmity to the Spirit was still around. The two ages inevitably clash because their agendas are different. The old age is ruled by death while the new age of the Spirit is characterized by life in Jesus.

In the third sermon we saw that healing happens today precisely because the Spirit works to reverse death. We saw that the barrenness of Sarah, Rebecca, and Rachel, like illnesses and debilitating conditions, are but a sign of the reign of death which God has overcome in the death and resurrection of Jesus. However, there is no formula for healing. We can only depend on God’s initiative and hope that he stretches his hand in response to our pleas.

Then from three stories in Acts 4, 5, & 6 we learnt that the Spirit promotes a form of life in the church that is drastically contrary to other forms of life to which we are used. While the old age tells us to seek prestige and look to money for security, the Spirit produces humility and asks us to find security in God. While the old age tells us to make people dependent on us so as to hold on to power, the Spirit asks us to willingly give away our power, to empower others so that he can work through others.

In Acts 7 we dealt with the martyrdom of Stephen. We saw that he was open to the realm of heaven in which the death of Jesus is given cosmic significance that runs contrary to the curse of Deuteronomy 21.23. And we saw that Stephen imitated Jesus in his death—a death of which Saul of Tarsus was a witness. We saw that the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.

In the sixth message we learnt from Act 8 about the effect that Saul’s persecution and Stephen’s death had on the church. We saw that persecution is a foolish thing to undertake because it forces the church to behave like a body. We also saw that the suffering servant passage in Isaiah 53 applies to Jesus but not to Jesus alone. Rather, it applies to all who follow Jesus. I ended the sermon with a call to recovering this essential element of our calling in relation to the world.

In the seventh message we learnt from Acts 9 what happened to Saul on his way to Damascus. We saw that what changed Saul from a persecutor of the church to a defender of the faith was a vision in which he saw the crucified Jesus, the one whom he believed was under God’s curse, at the right hand of God. Saul realized that God’s way of ruling and conquering was by allowing himself to be the target of human hatred and violence. Jesus conquered his enemies by allowing them to kill him. Jesus had placed himself under the curse of Deuteronomy 21.23, but by virtue of his innocence had transformed it into a blessing. And with this conviction Saul became Jesus’ twelfth apostle.

Last week, from the episode of Peter’s dream about unclean animals, I drew three important implications: first, the equality of women and men in the ministries of the church; second, God has done away with circumcision as the marker of the people of God, though not as a marker of the Jewish people. The priority of the Jews in salvation history needs to be remembered; third, it means that our past does not matter, that what matters is that Jesus reaches out to undeserving humans and lavishes them with his love.

Till now in Acts, the gospel is still in the area of Palestine, though barely. As seen in the next slide, from Acts 1 to Acts 10 the gospel had spread from Jerusalem to Caesarea, a distance of only about 50 miles! So much for the gospel going to the ends of the earth! As you can see, the gospel is still in Palestine. Incidentally, it was at Caesarea that archeologists found the only evidence that confirms that Pilate was indeed appointed as governor of Judea during the reign of Tiberius. The slide shows what is called the Pilate Inscription.

In Acts 11 we read about initial travels of Barnabas and Saul. Saul, you will remember, is in Tarsus, his birthplace. Meanwhile, the gospel was being preached along the Mediterranean coast, till it reached Antioch. The Jerusalem church sent Barnabas to Antioch to oversee the church there. Now Barnabas had recognized in Saul tremendous potential. So he went north from Jerusalem to Antioch as seen in the next slide. He then went to Tarsus, where Saul was, and brought him back to Antioch. While they were at Antioch the followers of Jesus were first called Christians. About that time a Christian named Agabus prophesied a famine that would affect the church in Jerusalem. So the church in Antioch sent Barnabas and Saul to Jerusalem with financial assistance.

Then next we encounter Barnabas and Saul is in Acts 12.25. Let us hear now the text for today.

[Here read Acts 12.25-13.3]

We have finally stepped outside the bounds of the Promised Land. It has taken half the book of Acts to describe this arduous journey during which we have seen the church slowly learning the implications of Jesus’ death and resurrection. At times, like when Peter heals the man at the temple, or when Stephen confesses Jesus to the point of death, or when Philip witnesses to the Ethiopian eunuch, the church shone. But then there have been the not so positive episodes of casting lots, of Ananias and Sapphira, of Peter’s reluctance to proclaim the gospel to uncircumcised Gentiles. It has been a rough ride, but for that reason, a real one. And finally, we are poised to have the church unleashed on the world.

At the end of Acts, we find Paul in Rome, witnessing to Jesus in the capital of the Empire. In a period of about twenty-five years the gospel had spread from Jerusalem to Rome. The next slide shows the spread of the gospel in the first century. In the second century, as the next slide shows, the gospel had reached the Western extremities of Southern Europe and Northern Africa, and the Northern ends of central Europe. The map does not show the massive spread of the gospel along the Nile and East of Mesopotamia.

In the third century despite severe persecution during the reigns of the Emperors Decius and Diocletian, the church continued to grow till it had extended far beyond the scope of the Roman Empire and had affected almost every area of life.

Such miraculous growth! In a race of religions, this was the one to back! Projecting the growth of the first three centuries indicates that the gospel should have reached the ends of the earth latest by the sixth century.

But after the first three centuries something happened. The church got stuck. Growth rates decreased. And when Islam rose among the Arabs, the church held on for dear life but kept losing territory. In fact today, of the seven main centers of Christianity during the first three centuries, only Rome still remains even nominally Christian.

What happened? How was this force stopped—this force that Paul calls the power of God for the salvation of the world? And why do we now still experience the frustration of not making the kind of impact on the world that we see in Acts and in the first three centuries of Christianity? Why is it that Europe is now post-Christian? Why is North Africa Muslim? Why is the Middle East Muslim? Why did the gospel presumably fail in India and China? Why is South America merely nominally Christian? And why is North America, like Europe, also post-Christian?

Such weighty questions! Can our text answer them? I believe it can. There is one tiny sentence in there. The leaders of the Antioch church are worshipping and fasting when they hear the Spirit say, “Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them.” And then it comes. “Then after fasting and praying they laid their hands on them and sent them off.”

So innocuous! So harmless! So benign! But so powerful!

Most Christians would agree that Paul is probably the greatest theologian of all. Even Peter had to admit that some of the things Paul wrote were difficult to grasp. And even today, as we learn more about the world in which the early Christians lived, we find new insights into Paul’s letters.

And probably most Christians would also agree that Paul is probably the greatest missionary of all. Missiologists and missionaries today still study Paul’s missionary methods and his missionary journeys.

But we have failed to link the two. Paul’s letters were written during his missionary journeys. They are not theological treatises but theological reflections on his missions. This fine thinker could only produce the depth of theology while he was on his missionary journeys.

But we have locked up our fine thinkers. We have labeled them theologians and have asked them to write treatises for us. And they come up with tomes of systematic theologies and thousands of “how to” books. And we fail to see the relevance of all the doctrine we learn. Have we ever asked ourselves, “How in the world does believing that God is Trinity change the way I live?”

And then we send others on mission trips. We have labeled them missionaries and we ask them to raise support for their trips and then to give us reports on them. And so they sweat to raise funds and give us reports of their missions. And we feel nice and warm as though watching a slide show means that we have fulfilled the commission. Have we ever asked ourselves, “How in the world does knowing the widespread ignorance about Jesus change the way I live?”

Barnabas and Saul were part of the leadership at Antioch. One was an encourager beyond compare, the other a thinker in the grip of a heavenly vision. Any local church could do with such Christians. And yet we read, “They laid their hands on them and sent them off.”

They sent their best duo off. They presumably trusted that God would provide adequate replacements for Barnabas and Saul. But the church in general has not been able to trust in this way. And herein lies the root of the stagnation of the church. How does it normally work? Someone graduates from seminary and we make him a youth minister. After some years he is promoted to assistant pastor. And then, when his productive years are over, he gets to be a senior pastor. If he is a gifted person, why was he not commissioned as a missionary? And if he was not gifted, why in the world is he a pastor?

We have made the church look like a corporation as though getting to be senior pastor were like becoming a CEO. We have not listened to that voice that says, “Set apart for me.” That is why so many pastors burn out. That is why long-term missionaries are so few. That is why the church adopts a ghetto mentality. And that is why much that passes as Christian literature is filled with platitudes.

You see, the more gifted you think a leader is, the more likely God is calling her elsewhere. Are we willing to listen? Are we willing to hear God say, “Set apart for me”? We must! For only when our most gifted brothers and sisters go to the frontiers and engage unbelief with belief and then reflect on their engagements will we develop expressions of theology and missiology that are appropriate for our contexts.