God with us

I wonder, when the Spirit came on Old Testament characters like Samson or David, was there noise and flame? That’s what happened when the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost; here’s that event as described in Acts 2:1-4:

“When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.”

Probably if there was a loud, wind-like noise and burning fire when Samson was filled with the Spirit, scripture would say so. And Pentecost was different; this was when the Spirit came and stayed for good. Jesus’ disciples, and Christians today, have permanently what Old Testament heroes only got occasionally. The Spirit is always with us.

This is a gift of Jesus, promised to his disciples when he was still on earth, and that suggests that in some way we need first to know Jesus before we can understand, or maybe even handle, the presence of the Holy Spirit. Or maybe people didn’t need the Spirit as much before Jesus; Jesus revealed so much about God in his life and by his teaching that possibly the ongoing presence of the Spirit became necessary for Christians to digest and understand it all.

One thing seems to be constant, though: when the Spirit comes, it brings with it amazing powers. Samson tore out city gates and toppled statues, while the disciples spoke in tongues. Later Christians would manifest other spiritual gifts. And all of us are enabled to see and understand a spiritual side to life that’s invisible, or at least badly understood, by anyone else.

God entered into a relationship with his people from the beginning, openly at first as he walked with Adam and then selectively, with men like Moses and Abraham, after the fall. Jesus came generations later and lived among humans for several decades before taking up his Lordship of the Universe. And then the third figure of the Trinity arrived at Pentecost. In this way, the promise of Isaiah’s prophecy, fulfilled at Christmas, came to full fruition at Pentecost.

Now God is truly with us, completely and always and in all of his persons.

deliverables

It’s kind of ironic that in the end, the very last question the disciples had for Jesus was the same expectation the Jewish religious leaders had. Here it is, in Acts 1:6-9:

“Then they gathered around him and asked him, ‘Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?’
“He said to them: ‘It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.’
“After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight.”

The disciples wanted to know: when do we win? They didn’t like not knowing. We want the same certainty. They, and we as a centuries-later extension of their work, don’t like the idea that we’re working toward something we can’t see. If we don’t know what the end state looks like or when it will arrive, how do we know how well we’re doing? How do we know how much work is done and how much is left? What are the measurables?

Should we read anything into the fact that there aren’t any of what business calls deliverables to the mission Jesus gave us? I think so. I think Jesus wants us to simply live faithful lives doing the best we can every day. If we had measurable milestones, we’d apply the same competitive spirit (and maybe willingness to cheat) that we do to our sports and our businesses. Human nature is to run over people to get ahead, or at least get the job done. Jesus’ work isn’t like that at all.

That’s a challenge for me, because I’ve been a goal setter and milestone measurer all my life. Leaving all that to Jesus and just doing what’s in front of me will take some faith. But Jesus and his mission is all about faith.

what about him?

Comparing yourself to someone else has been described as a cancer on the soul. I think that’s a helpful analogy because measuring ourselves against others metastasizes our usual motivations into pride or jealousy. But it’s natural, even for God’s people.

John 21 tells of when Jesus found his disciples back in Galilee, at work fishing. He coached them to one of the biggest catches they’ve ever had, and then took a walk with Peter. He and Peter had some unfinished business, a matter of a promise that Peter went back on and the three denials of Jesus he made on the night Jesus was arrested.

Then, after being forgiven and affirmed in his role as a church leader, and despite all this personal attention from Jesus, Peter did this, in verses 20-22: 

“Peter turned and saw that the disciple whom Jesus loved was following them. (This was the one who had leaned back against Jesus at the supper and had said, ‘Lord, who is going to betray you?’) When Peter saw him, he asked, ‘Lord, what about him?’

“Jesus answered, ‘If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.’”

The disciples had previously demonstrated how conscious they were of rank, and how badly they wanted to stand above each other. When Peter looks at a man who could be a rival and asks, “What about him?”, Jesus answer is one that we all need to take to heart: “What is that to you?”

Some of us are going to have public, visible ministries; we’ll be well know in our churches and communities. Others serve one-on-one with visits and gifts of food, or even in silent solitude as staunch prayer warriors. We want to rank ourselves and our service, but this passage suggests to me that Jesus wouldn’t approve. How we relate to Jesus and what he calls us to do is very intimate and personal; it’s not anyone else’s business. 

I think Jesus wants us to compare ourselves only to him; he should be the only one we try to please and his life on earth should be the only standard we’re trying to measure up against. And compared to Jesus, we’re all pretty much alike anyway. The only thing we have to brag about is our association with him. 

open minds

When Jesus revealed himself to his disciples after Easter, there was an interchange that never really struck me before. I read it this morning, in Luke 24:44-45: 

“He said to them, ‘This is what I told you while I was still with you: Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms.’

“Then he opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures.”

Ever wonder why the disciples were so baffled by Jesus’ arrest and execution? After all, they knew the prophesies, and Jesus warned them what was coming.

It seems to me that the disciples didn’t get it before was because the Bible, especially the Old Testament, can’t make sense outside of the sacrifice of Jesus. If you take away what Jesus did when he lived on earth as a man, the Bible is a weird mix of strange old stories, dusty archaeological facts, and obscure prophecies. Once we know about Easter, then the story of Ruth and Boaz, the consistency of God’s character as revealed in the Old Testament Law, and the strange things Isaiah and Jeremiah said all fall into place, pieces of a giant, generations-long foretelling of the thing our children’s Bible calls God’s Great Rescue Plan.

But there’s one more thing we need in addition to knowledge of what’s told in the Gospels. The disciples still didn’t get it until Jesus opened their minds, and we won’t either. That’s why Jesus sent the Advocate, the Holy Spirit. Without the understanding the Spirit gives, we can never achieve heart knowledge of the Scriptures.

It’s a reminder to look at all of the Bible, and all of life, through the lens of Jesus’ sacrifice. And it’s a reminder to always lean on the Holy Spirit to understand. Anything else gives at best an illusion of understanding, a partial knowledge. More likely, it will all just seem like nonsense.

Christians should be the most open-minded people in the world, but we should approach every confusing question, every challenging event, and every new person with a mind opened not to any and every worldly idea, but to a complete understanding of the Scripture. And for that, we need both to know the Scripture and to be closely connected to God.

expectations

It’s easy to become a prisoner of your own expectations; we see what we think we’ll see and we find what we set out looking for. Sometimes, that makes us miss a fantastic truth, something new and compelling that wasn’t what we expected.

Two men walking to Emmaus had that happen to them. Here’s what happened after Jesus joined them, from Luke 24:17-21: 

“He asked them, ‘What are you discussing together as you walk along?’

“They stood still, their faces downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, ‘Are you the only one visiting Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?’

“‘What things?’ he asked.

“‘About Jesus of Nazareth,’ they replied. ‘He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.’”

What those two men saw was a limited truth. Jesus was an amazing prophet, one who came and spoke the words of God’s revelation to his people. And they had a reasonable hope, for redemption. But they expected redemption to look a specific way - they probably thought it would involve the Romans being ousted and a return to Jewish rule of the Jews - so they missed the greater truth of what really happened and who Jesus really was.

Looking to intently at worldly politics, they missed the oppression of sin and guilt. Wanting so badly to have another David, a Jewish general/king who would lead them back to greatness, they never expected a new hope for the whole world. 

What are we looking for from Jesus? Do we want big churches, with the latest in technology, the largest Sunday attendance, and the most flavors at the coffee bar? Do we want health and wealth and blessings in life? If that’s what we’re looking for, how easily we overlook the infinite value of a Savior who digs into our hearts and roots out all the things that are killing us, one painful surgery at a time. We’ll never appreciate the removal of guilt if we didn’t want it in the first place.

We find the truth about Jesus the same place the men from Emmaus did: in the revelation of God himself. That’s the best place to go to start looking for the right things.

normal life

Holy Week is over. The sad services of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, the melancholy introspection of Saturday were flooded away by the great good news of Easter Sunday. In addition to some great worship, there was a lot of good fellowship and maybe too much food. But now it’s done for another year. We’re back to normal life.

That gave me a little insight into a minor question this morning, as I read this from Mark 20:6-7: “‘Don’t be alarmed,’ he said. ‘You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter, “He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.”’”

I’ve sometimes wondered why Jesus sent his disciples to Galilee. Why not just meet them somewhere in Jerusalem, where they already were? Why not save them the steps; after all, the new church would start to grow in the capitol city?

Today it looks to me like Jesus is sending them back to their normal lives, in a way. No, he didn’t intend for them to go back to fishing, but Galilee was where they lived when it all started. Galilee was where he called them away from their occupations and led them on a revolutionary course of discipleship that was never intended to be an actual revolution. Jesus disappointed so many people with his death, which seemed fruitless because it didn’t result in political regime change.

Now Jesus intended to show his resurrected self, the first fruit of his sacrifice, to his most intimate followers back in the place they lived before they were disciples. 

Could it be that this is his reminder that this was a new beginning, that life without the man Jesus - normal life - was going in fact to be life continuously with Jesus? That moving on from his death was going to involve a greater commitment of their lives than they had made so far? That normal life wasn’t the old life; there was a new normal that would focus them like nothing before?

As we get back to our normal lives, it’s a good reminder. There really isn’t anything normal about a life lived for Jesus. 

fake news

I sit this morning with two thoughts. First, after an amazing Easter Sunday, I’m blown away once again by what Jesus did and how much God loves us. Second, after reading some of the mockery of atheists and humanists what they call the superstition of Easter, and seeing all the bunnies and little chicks, I’m sad that so any refuse to believe.

The chief priests, willing tools of Satan, were the original naysayers. They were the first to call the resurrection fake news. Here’s Matthew’s retelling in Matthew 28:11-15: 

“While the women were on their way, some of the guards went into the city and reported to the chief priests everything that had happened. When the chief priests had met with the elders and devised a plan, they gave the soldiers a large sum of money, telling them, ‘You are to say, “His disciples came during the night and stole him away while we were asleep.” If this report gets to the governor, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble.’ So the soldiers took the money and did as they were instructed. And this story has been widely circulated among the Jews to this very day.”

Traditional Jews still don’t believe Jesus was Messiah. Dozens of other faiths hold up their own depiction of God, but not one of the sacrificing Savior. And post-Christian nations like most in the west have moved on from the faith of their fathers and mothers. From the very beginning, the ancient devil began practicing the art of disinformation; we think it came with the internet, but it’s been around forever. Why do you think he’s known as the Father of Lies.

This is the weekend of Christianity’s greatest triumph, the time we remember the ultimate display of love, and we walk away determined to make our lives worthy of the sacrifice. And today I’m convicted that the best way to do that is to love and tell the truth. Habitual liars aren’t God’s people; that’s one of the first marks of the ones who believed Satan’s fake news.

the torn curtain

A lot of strange things happened when Jesus died, and they all tell us something. But the thing that strikes the deepest for me is the tearing of the temple curtain. Here’s how Luke relates it, Luke 23:44-46: 

“It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’ When he had said this, he breathed his last.”

I was always taught that the temple curtain referred to here was the one that separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the temple. The Holy of Holies was that place where the Ark of the Covenant was kept, a place that only one priest could enter only once a year. The place where God made himself present among the Jews.

With Jesus’ death, that barrier was now gone. The Jews didn’t know it yet, but the limitations on approaching God were gone too. Jesus had done what he came for; he paid the awful debt that humans owed God. He took care of the thing that kept us from God; he mended the broken relationship so that now we can freely go to God whenever we want.

Here’s the problem: sometimes we go a long time without going to God. What a shameful squandering of the greatest gift of the cross.

King of the Jews

In the end, the chief priests did what Herod couldn't do: they killed Jesus. In the name of their religion, which by that time was more about political power and nit-picky rules than about grace, they nailed an innocent man to a cross. And even as he died, they couldn't leave him alone.

John 19:19-22 tells us: “Pilate had a notice prepared and fastened to the cross. It read: Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. Many of the Jews read this sign, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and the sign was written in Aramaic, Latin and Greek. The chief priests of the Jews protested to Pilate, 'Do not write "The King of the Jews," but that this man claimed to be king of the Jews.'

"Pilate answered, 'What I have written, I have written.'”

Here's the thing, though: they didn't get to decide. The chief priests were trying to manage the message, but their opinion counted for nothing. Pilate was trying to control the situation, but maybe saw closer to the truth than the Jews. Or maybe it was a tactic. But Jesus was who he was and whatever they thought made no difference. His death was necessary and it would prevail over everything evil.

We don’t get to decide either. We can make our choices and mouth our platitudes; we can make our Holy Week observances and then go back to our normal life on Monday. Whether that life acknowledges Jesus as lord or focuses on building an earthly empire doesn’t change who Jesus is. It just changes who we are.

He was the King of the Jews and is the Lord of all things. But not because of anything we say or do. Praise the lord, he rules. We follow, or we’ll be on the wrong side in the end.

no justice

The people didn’t care. Incited by the chief priests, they just wanted Jesus dead.

Pilate didn’t care. He just wanted peace; he was trying to avert a riot.

Here’s the story, in Mark 15; Pilate offers to release either Jesus or the murderer Barabas and the crowd chooses the murderer. Then this, from verses 12-15: 

“‘What shall I do, then, with the one you call the king of the Jews?’ Pilate asked them.

“‘Crucify him!’ they shouted.

“‘Why? What crime has he committed?’ asked Pilate.

“But they shouted all the louder, ‘Crucify him!’

“Wanting to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas to them. He had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.”

No crime, not the slightest shred of evidence. Just a day awash in hatred and rage. Justice would have seen Jesus released and Barabas executed. Justice would have recognized Jesus as the legitimate king of the Jews. But in that city at that time, there was no justice.

And the chief beneficiary was us. Because justice would have seen Jesus released and us executed.

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

nothing in secret

Jesus’ trial is kind of like the anti-police procedural. You know those shows like CSI and Criminal Minds, the ones where the authorities try to piece together what happened? In Jesus’ case, there was no question about what took place. 

Look at this part of his trial, as told in John 18:19-24: 

“Meanwhile, the high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and his teaching.

“‘I have spoken openly to the world,’ Jesus replied. ‘I always taught in synagogues or at the temple, where all the Jews come together. I said nothing in secret. Why question me? Ask those who heard me. Surely they know what I said.’

“When Jesus said this, one of the officials nearby slapped him in the face. ‘Is this the way you answer the high priest?’ he demanded.

“‘If I said something wrong,’ Jesus replied, ‘testify as to what is wrong. But if I spoke the truth, why did you strike me?’ Then Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.”

Jesus rightly pointed out that he’d done his teaching out in the open, in the public square. In fact, much of it had been done in the temple. It’s striking that the high priest had never bothered to listen to Jesus himself. It’s even more extraordinary that he didn’t know what Jesus actually taught. He seemed to be questioning Jesus in the hope that something heretical would pop out.

But Jesus did nothing in secret. Everything was right there; nothing was hidden. And, for the first time in this story Jesus was sent on to a higher authority when his interrogator found nothing to accuse him with.

Jesus was so obviously innocent that it seems incredible that he was actually held, much less tried, convicted and executed. It seems like even the most basic effort might have won his freedom. But then, Jesus didn’t want his freedom. He wanted to die; in fact, for the plan to work, he had to die.

It’s amazing, isn’t it? All the evidence is out in the open but the prosecutor doesn’t know; the accused is innocent but won’t free himself. And the guilty - us- who are never put on trial are exonerated and put back on the streets.

It’s the weirdest trial ever.

nothing in secret

Jesus’ trial is kind of like the anti-police procedural. You know those shows like CSI and Criminal Minds, the ones where the authorities try to piece together what happened? In Jesus’ case, there was no question about what took place. 

Look at this part of his trial, as told in John 18:19-24: 

“Meanwhile, the high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and his teaching.

“‘I have spoken openly to the world,’ Jesus replied. ‘I always taught in synagogues or at the temple, where all the Jews come together. I said nothing in secret. Why question me? Ask those who heard me. Surely they know what I said.’

“When Jesus said this, one of the officials nearby slapped him in the face. ‘Is this the way you answer the high priest?’ he demanded.

“‘If I said something wrong,’ Jesus replied, ‘testify as to what is wrong. But if I spoke the truth, why did you strike me?’ Then Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.”

Jesus rightly pointed out that he’d done his teaching out in the open, in the public square. In fact, much of it had been done in the temple. It’s striking that the high priest had never bothered to listen to Jesus himself. It’s even more extraordinary that he didn’t know what Jesus actually taught. He seemed to be questioning Jesus in the hope that something heretical would pop out.

But Jesus did nothing in secret. Everything was right there; nothing was hidden. And, for the first time in this story Jesus was sent on to a higher authority when his interrogator found nothing to accuse him with.

Jesus was so obviously innocent that it seems incredible that he was actually held, much less tried, convicted and executed. It seems like even the most basic effort might have won his freedom. But then, Jesus didn’t want his freedom. He wanted to die; in fact, for the plan to work, he had to die.

It’s amazing, isn’t it? All the evidence is out in the open but the prosecutor doesn’t know; the accused is innocent but won’t free himself. And the guilty - us- who are never put on trial are exonerated and put back on the streets.

It’s the weirdest trial ever.

nothing in secret

Jesus’ trial is kind of like the anti-police procedural. You know those shows like CSI and Criminal Minds, the ones where the authorities try to piece together what happened? In Jesus’ case, there was no question about what took place. 

Look at this part of his trial, as told in John 18:19-24: 

“Meanwhile, the high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and his teaching.

“‘I have spoken openly to the world,’ Jesus replied. ‘I always taught in synagogues or at the temple, where all the Jews come together. I said nothing in secret. Why question me? Ask those who heard me. Surely they know what I said.’

“When Jesus said this, one of the officials nearby slapped him in the face. ‘Is this the way you answer the high priest?’ he demanded.

“‘If I said something wrong,’ Jesus replied, ‘testify as to what is wrong. But if I spoke the truth, why did you strike me?’ Then Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.”

Jesus rightly pointed out that he’d done his teaching out in the open, in the public square. In fact, much of it had been done in the temple. It’s striking that the high priest had never bothered to listen to Jesus himself. It’s even more extraordinary that he didn’t know what Jesus actually taught. He seemed to be questioning Jesus in the hope that something heretical would pop out.

But Jesus did nothing in secret. Everything was right there; nothing was hidden. And, for the first time in this story Jesus was sent on to a higher authority when his interrogator found nothing to accuse him with.

Jesus was so obviously innocent that it seems incredible that he was actually held, much less tried, convicted and executed. It seems like even the most basic effort might have won his freedom. But then, Jesus didn’t want his freedom. He wanted to die; in fact, for the plan to work, he had to die.

It’s amazing, isn’t it? All the evidence is out in the open but the prosecutor doesn’t know; the accused is innocent but won’t free himself. And the guilty - us- who are never put on trial are exonerated and put back on the streets.

It’s the weirdest trial ever.

not my problem

If there’s any value that’s still anywhere near being universally held by Americans, it’s the idea that you’re always there for your squad. You jump in when they’re in trouble; you hang in when they go through hard times. In fact, “us against the world” is a popular theme in pop culture. So you’d think the Easter story would resonate with people.

Judas sold Jesus out. He was part of Jesus’ disciples all along, a trusted member who was given control of the money. But he was convinced by the religious leaders and his own evil heart to betray Jesus. In the end, though, he couldn’t stomach what he’d done. Here’s the story, from Matthew 27:3-5: 

“When Judas, who had betrayed him, saw that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with remorse and returned the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and the elders. ‘I have sinned,’ he said, ‘for I have betrayed innocent blood.’

“‘What is that to us?’ they replied. ‘That’s your responsibility.’

“So Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged himself.”

What strikes me in this story is the response of the chief priests. When Judas went to them repentant and in need of spiritual solace, they said, “not my problem.” They didn’t care about Judas except as a means to get at Jesus. He could, in their opinion, literally go hang.

Ironically, there was a man who would probably have given Judas what he needed: Jesus. Jesus knows that none of us can live up to the kind of loyalty we expect of others. He knows our weaknesses and why we have them. And he can forgive anything and does forgive everything, for those who put their faith in him.

At the point the religious leaders washed their hands of him, there was still a place Judas could go. He could go the same place that’s always open for all of us: to God the Father. Through Jesus’ blood we always have a home to go back to, and a precious relationship waiting.

It would be irreligious to refer to God in squad terms, but when people talk about squad they betray their longing for the belonging they can only find in Jesus. All the plotters and co-conspirators won’t care in the end, and the same squad-mates who swear they’ll be there will also throw you off as toxic as soon as you seem more trouble than you’re worth. “Not my problem” is something you’ll hear from almost every person in your life at some time.

Jesus is the one you can go back to even after you betray him. In fact, Jesus is one you can go back to after repeated betrayals. It’s the reason he came, after all. To give us a way out when our self-created messes seem too big. We don’t have to go hang; he did.

Dad gifts

What’s the best thing you ever got from your Dad? 

Dads give good gifts. My dad gave me puppies and ponies and hatchets and BB guns. He gave me golf clubs and cars. He gave me a lot of advice, some of which I still remember and some that I wish I did. 

Dads want us to be better, but they also like us to have fun. Moms nurture us to grow and be healthy; dads stretch us to be resilient and capable. Of course these are generalities, and individual moms and dads are on a spectrum or sometimes flip these characteristics. But moms tend to always be there, loving us and growing us. Dads tend to be distracted with work and then make up for it with a little too much extravagance.

So I think Dads give good gifts. They love making us happy. 

This morning I saw the father-son relationship of God in a little different way, because it made me think about Dad gifts. I was reading in John 17 noted the first three verses: 

“After Jesus said this, he looked toward heaven and prayed:

“‘Father, the hour has come. Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you. For you granted him authority over all people that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him. Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.’”

What did God the father give to his son Jesus? What would the God of the universe give to the son who already has everything? These verses say it’s . . . us! You and me. The ones Jesus has made his own.

If you ever wonder about your own worth, you were the gift God gave to Jesus. And Jesus didn’t want you to use you or take advantage of you; he wanted you so he could bless you. Jesus wants us so he can have a relationship with us.

Why? I don’t really understand. It doesn’t have much to do with me, and it has everything to do with the amazing, wonderful God who made us and called us. He truly is love.

proof

For members of a religion of faith, we sure struggle to have faith. In general, we’re suspicious and want proof. And then we want to see the source data from which the evidence was calculated. Once we have the source data, we want to know the methods use to collect the data. Then, once we trust the methods and accept the data, we might also accept the evidence as proof. Or we might say “Fake news.”

That’s how we often want Christianity to work, too. We love it when there’s a new archaeological discovery that validates some episode of the Bible. “See,” we say, “there’s proof!” When we encounter hard doctrines like the Trinity or election, we need to understand it before we accept it. But that’s not how faith in Jesus works.

Oh, there’s proof, all the proof we need. Jesus explained it to his disciples in John 16:7-11: “But very truly I tell you, it is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. When he comes, he will prove the world to be in the wrong about sin and righteousness and judgment: about sin, because people do not believe in me; about righteousness, because I am going to the Father, where you can see me no longer; and about judgment, because the prince of this world now stands condemned.”

The Holy Spirit gives believers proof of everything Jesus taught and scripture revealed; he helps us understand it and makes sense of the things we feel. He opens our eyes to see Jesus at work in the world, and opens our minds to recognize the lies of the Devil. Once we have the Holy Spirit, the things of God make sense, and the conclusions are inevitable.

Here’s the thing, though: the Holy Spirit doesn’t prove anything about God to unbelievers. That’s what we want; we want God to prove himself to all the heathens who challenge us. But that’s our job. By our lives and choices and words, we’re supposed to be proof to the world.

Some things will still take faith, but in the end that’s the most important thing the Holy Spirit proves. By his very presence he verifies the goodness and unswerving personal attention of God, so that we can trust in his goodness and accept by faith the things we don’t understand.

who loves you?

One of my favorite cinematic depictions of Army life is the HBO series Band of Brothers, and one of my favorite scenes comes in the first episode, when Easy Company is still in basic training and finds itself on yet another night march when other companies are in their barracks. One private works up the courage to challenge the lieutenant marching with them as to why their commander, Captain Sobel, works them so hard. 

When the lieutenant turns the question around and asks the private what he thinks, the private says, “I think Captain Sobel hates us, sir!” To which the lieutenant replies, “Captain Sobel doesn’t hate Easy Company, private. He just hates you.” The unexpected joke breaks the tension and increases the bond between that lieutenant and his men.

It’s an exchange I think about a lot because it raises questions of what feels like love and what doesn’t, and why we hate who we hate. To Captain Sobel, Easy Company soldiers were malcontents; to Lieutenant Winters they were hardworking, intelligent, caring men. Captain Sobel’s relationship with his men was always antagonistic and suspicious. 

I explain this little story and my reaction to it because this morning in John 15:18-19 I read these words of Jesus: “‘If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you.’”

There were a few soldiers Captain Sobel loved, but they were the suck-ups who ratted on their buddies; they were his yes-men. Captain Sobel saw real soldiers as a threat. In the same way, non-Christians will always be threatened by Jesus and his expectations, because they don’t want any limitations on their behavior. Any Christian who is loved by non-Christians probably is compromising his or her message, conforming not to Jesus but to the world.

This morning, I realize that it’s healthy and good if there are people who hate me, so long as it’s the ones Jesus says also hate him. In fact, being loved by that group should be a huge red flag.

Who loves you? That seems like a worthwhile question to help get at whether we’re living distinctively or not.

servants and messengers

Jesus has a pointed question for me: Do you understand what I have done for you?

Actually, he asked his disciples that, in John 13, after he went around doing the dirtiest job in the room, which was washing everyone’s feet. Once finished, he said this, in verses 12-17: 

“When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. ‘Do you understand what I have done for you?’ he asked them. ‘You call me “Teacher” and “Lord,” and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.’”

Jesus asked if they understood, but this morning the question seems pointed at me because I don’t always get his point. Why is the rabbi doing the dirty work here? In my world privates salute officers; in fact, soldiers drive officers around  and carry their radios. In business, executives are treated with respect and have more privileges than line workers.

In fact, what Jesus seems to be saying is that under him, all of us - officers and soldiers, managers and employees - fall into the category of servants and messengers. Jesus is Lord and Teacher; we aren’t, so we are subordinate. 

It’s a reminder that in Jesus’ world (as opposed to mine) there’s only one relationship that matters, that between creatures and the creator. Compared to that, minor differences of income, intelligence or giftedness are so minuscule as to be undistinguishable. There’s only God and his image-bearers, and God has already in so many ways demeaned himself and sacrificed himself for us. And he says to us, do the same.

We read this as a command to lower ourselves in some way by serving in love ones we won’t serve because they deserve it, or shouldn’t have to serve because of who we are. Jesus says no, you’re serving your peers, not your inferiors. In fact, you wash those feet because you see his image in that person. 

There is never a good reason not to serve, Jesus says. Just the opposite: there’s considerable risk to our souls in not serving.