Sunday, October 25, 2009

Jesus wept

Rembrandt, "The Raising of Lazarus"

"Jesus wept" (John 11:35). This is the shortest verse in the Bible. Granted, the Bible's authors didn't write in verses. The verses were added later as an organizational scheme. The scheme we use today was developed by Archbishop Stephen Langton between 1227 and 1248. Langton was Archbishop of Canterbury between 1207 and 1228.

With that important factoid in place, back to the question: Jesus wept, but why? As my friend and Australian Bible teacher Ray Barnett puts it, there are a couple of apparent reasons but also one deeper reason that may actually be primary. The apparent reasons are these:
  • Lazarus was Jesus' friend, and Jesus may have been grieving over his death
  • Mary and the Jews with her were weeping, which may have caused Jesus to weep with them in empathy
Yet upon deeper reflection, these reasons don't actually make sense. Before Jesus started weeping, he says to Mary, "Your brother will rise again" (v. 23). Mary took this to mean that her brother Lazarus would rise again on the Day of Judgment. Yet clearly Jesus knew what he intended to do. He knew that he was going to bring Lazarus back to life. Therefore, he could not have been weeping over Lazarus's death, because he himself was about to reverse this.

If this holds, then it also seems that the weeping of the others present wouldn't have caused Jesus to weep. Again, he knew already that everything was about to change.

Yet, Jesus wept. Why? Ray's answer is this: Jesus also knew that by raising Lazarus from the dead he would be setting in motion the events that would lead to his own death by crucifixion. Note that the plot to kill Jesus takes shape immediately after this episode (see 11:45-57). Note also that in chapter 12 Jesus arrives in Jerusalem and refers directly to his own impending death: "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified" (11:23).

So Jesus wept more likely because he knew he was setting in motion the events that would lead to his own death. In the fully human aspect of Jesus, there may well have been a feeling of abandonment, certainly a ready cause for weeping. Yet even deeper than this, in the fully divine aspect of Jesus, maybe the weeping was also over the profound sinfulness of humanity, a problem so deep that God Himself would have to die to overcome it.

As Christians, do we understand and appreciate our own profound sinfulness as well as that of everyone around us? We are all broken people. How much more loving and gracious would our relationships be if we could accept this about ourselves, as well as about those around us? How much greater then also would our appreciation for the grace of the gospel be? For as deep as the problem of sin runs, and it runs to our very core, the remedy of grace runs even deeper. This reality ought to engender in us a profound gratitude as well as a profound commitment to give our lives completely to bringing glory to God.

If you read this today as a Christian, do you realize that your deepest brokenness has already been made new? If not, might it make sense to take some time today to observe Jesus weeping, and to ask yourself, "Why?" If you do realize that your deepest brokenness has been made new, what would be the best expression of gratitude your life could offer up? Will you go there? Jesus is already there, extending his hands to you, and saying, "Come out from your old life and follow me."

Thursday, October 15, 2009

consulting your spiritual compass

Salvador Dali, "The Persistence of Memory"
Oil on canvas, 9 1/2 x 13" (24.1 x 33 cm). © 2007 Salvador Dalí,
Gala-Salvador Dalí Foundation/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Every Monday at work I have the privilege of participating in a lunch-time prayer group where we meet to pray for one another as well as our unchurched colleagues. It is a small group: there are usually 3-5 of us. It's remarkable to me that at a corporate campus of 2,000 that 3 is the most we can often muster, but such is the lot of those heeding the call to the Special Forces of prayer.

Beyond the privilege of participating in this group on a regular basis I have the additional privilege of offering a short devotional to begin these sessions. This past Monday I took a few moments to share how significant my personal commitment to the weekly readings of the Revised Common Lectionary has been in terms of deepening my relationship with the Lord and setting direction for my own life and ministry.

In my former missionary ministry we wrote monthly newsletters to our ministry partners. One of my favorites was from the very first year of our ministry, in which we were trying to raise funds and recruit a team before venturing off to language school to learn some Russian. I entitled that newsletter "The M-68", which referred to my personal spiritual compass. It was named 'M-68' after Micah 6:8: "He has shown you, O Man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God."

A world which is confused, distracted, and lost desperately needs people who know who they are and where they are going.

What is the model number of your spiritual compass? How regularly do you consult it? If you have misplaced it, need to dust it off, or even need to file a claim for a loss, might a commitment to the four simple weekly readings of the Revised Common Lectionary set this compass front and center once again, or even for the first time?

Remember this as well: the point of Bible reading is not to know the Bible, but rather to know the Lord, and his calling on your life. One of the great challenges and blessings of the lectionary for me is that because the weekly readings are limited, there is time and space to ask, "Father, what do you want to do with this in my life today?" It is this step of reverent submission (as the author of Hebrews puts it in a recent reading) that brings power to the words on the page.

Let us today check our course and set sail into the destiny our Father has for us.

Thursday, October 01, 2009

the flying spaghetti monster (FSM)


I came across a reference to 'FSM' and 'WWFSMD' the other day that piqued my curiosity. 'FSM' refers to "The Flying Spaghetti Monster" and "WWFSMD" to "What would the Flying Spaghetti Monster Do". FSM apparently stems from Richard Dawkin's book The God Delusion.

One of the reason this intrigued me is that one of this week's readings is Hebrews 1 & 2. I've always loved the Book of Hebrews because at its core I think its an apologetic to the Jewish world about why belief in Christ is compelling. I like to ask myself, "What do people believe in today, and what is a compelling way to engage them with the claims of Christ?"

Secularism, the belief that the natural world is all that there is, is certainly a worldview that many people base their lives upon today. If we as Christians were to write the Hebrews equivalent of an apologetic to the secular world, what would be it's basic outline? What would be the best way for me as a Christian to engage a secularist in a mutual pursuit of truth?

One place to start might be with the work of theologian and writer Alister McGrath who has written some detailed responses to Dawkin's arguments.

I'm not going to try to answer these questions within the confines of this post. However, if you have thoughts on this that you would like to share, I invite you to do so.