Heavenly Witnesses

As we stand on the eve of All Saints Sunday worship, those who have run the course of this life and have entered into the eternal home prepared for them are much on our minds and hearts.  It is a holy time of remembering and giving thanks.  Death is no welcomed guest for any of us, but neither is it a stranger.  If we have lived more than a few years, we have lost some good friend too soon, or some beloved member of our family.  Sixty-five years ago my father died and only this year did my mother follow him in death.  While I will not be in a service of worship in a church setting tomorrow, I will be calling their names as well as the names of others.  

Over the years All Saints Sunday came to be time of a growing awareness that while I am here, they are there.  Many times when I offered the Holy Meal to the gathered community, it was with a sense that we were not alone.  In my minds eye it seemed that the Table before us somehow was mysteriously extended beyond the thin veil of separation into the realm of the eternal in such a way that the communion of the saints was indeed experienced.   One of my favorite passages of Scripture speaks of the gathering of the saints.  In Hebrews 12:1, the Word of God creates an image with the words, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses..."    I have never dwelt much on trying to figure out the eternal home toward which I daily walk, but I have always found great comfort from this Biblical image of the gathered saints. 

As we walk into the experience of All Saints Sunday, it becomes a very personal moment for so many of us.  It is not an ordinary service of worship, but one where our hearts and spirits reach out to embrace those who live in the realm of the invisible.  How they live, I do not know.  But, I know they do live for Christ has been raised from the dead and, therefore, we shall one day live alongside of these saints as we become a part of that great cloud of heavenly witnesses. 

Surrendering the Wrong Thing

In the beginning of our journey on the faith in Jesus road, we talked a good bit about surrendering our life to the One who called us to come after Him.  But, even as we did the talk, we also had a sense of what we might need to surrender.  In those days it was usually some very visible thing like a bad habit, or Sunday leisure during worship hours, or maybe language that was too rough for Sunday School.  Whatever we might have called them as we remember those days, they were most likely the external things.   

As we moved along the road and began to compare notes with others and listen more intently to what Jesus was say, we began to understand the real things Jesus was calling us to turn lose were the internal, unseen by others, mostly invisible things of the heart.  We should have recognized from the very beginning that this was going to happen, but we managed to get started without remembering how Jesus spoke in the Sermon on the Mount about going a step beyond what was obvious.  As He viewed the world and those who wanted to come along with Him, doing was never the most important thing.    

It is interesting how we regarded salvation by works as such a heresy and then over the course of time began to live out our life in such a way.  Many of us worked ourselves into a frenzy for the sake of Jesus.  Maybe, some of us still do.  We worked hard doing the things we had come to understand believers were supposed to do and since we excelled in the doing, we were lulled into the sleep of having gotten it right.  Only after we were worn out, exhausted, and weary did we begin to realize Jesus was not as interested in the pious looking things we had set out do as much as He was interested in the things which lurked in our heart and were actually the real things He wanted us to surrender.   

The Right Outcome

The real problem with praying is that we want to control the outcome.  So often prayer is not a moment of entering into a conversation with God, but a moment for a monologue in which we tell God about some issue which is troubling us and then we proceed to tell Him what He needs to do in response to that need.  It is not enough that God gives us His ear and His heart, we want to make sure He also gives us the right outcome.  And, of course, the right outcome is what we have decided is the best outcome.    

When Wendell Berry wrote "Jayber Crow,"  he grew a character who had an encounter with the Lord's Prayer which changed his spiritual life forever.  "After you have said, 'thy will be done,' what more can be said?  And where do you find the strength to pray 'thy will be done' after you see what it means?"  Such was how Jayber spoke of his dilemma.     Of course, most of us avoid the spiritual crisis of this bachelor barber by never really learning to live with the question.  We know what God needs to do, and if He will only listen, we will tell Him.     

Living inside a faith that only asks for the will of God to be done in our lives is never an easy thing for us.  While we might say that all our praying is framed by this petition, we are also heard to say things about how God is so good when we get our outcome, but seldom, if ever, are we heard singing such a refrain when nothing about the outcome resembles our praying.  Maybe prayer is more about submitting than getting.  Maybe it is more about being in the presence of a loving and compassionate God than it is about getting a particular outcome. 

Too Busy

It is no secret that I am and have always been a reader of Oswald Chamber, a man of the early 20th century who is responsible for "My Utmost for His Highest."  Even though I have been reading this daily devotional since the late 1960's, I still find myself encountering words that go deep and seem as new.  Often I am amazed at how a word written so long ago could have been written yesterday. In a day when the contemporary church faces great turmoil and its leaders are searching for the way forward, what Chambers wrote over a hundred years ago  offers much clear guidance.    

Such is the case with a recent offering which read, "The great enemy to the work of the Lord Jesus Christ in the present day is the conception of practical work that has not come from the New Testament, but from the systems of the world in which endless energy and activities are insisted upon, but no private life witj God."  Being able to reflect on how I served the church and how it is with those who are even now actively doing that work, it seems that "doing" provided then and now a large share of what motivates the church in its life.  The church in this regards has become a mirror of the culture which is obsessed with staying too busy.  Being busy is not the same thing as being too busy which is what happens when the private life with God is put in a secondary place.   

Being too busy is easy to see as it reveals itself in being too busy for family, too busy for self care, and too busy for long periods of stillness in which our life with God is cultivated.  It is not hard to see.  We just do not want to see it and when we see it, we justify it by the good we see ourselves getting done.  When we are too busy for a life with God that is unhurried, deliberate, and intentional we have put ourselves on a road that leads to the loss of those things and those people which truly give us our life.   

The Iron Shoes of Orthodoxy

The Iron Shoes of Orthodoxy have been worn now for most of a lifetime.  In the beginning it was an easy fit.  Growing up in South Georgia as a preacher's kid who never missed anything the church offered on Sunday made it easy to hear what I was supposed to believe.  My remembrances of those days of coming to faith include things like revivals, camp meetings, retreats, and camps.  Going away to college gave me a first taste of hearing questions I had never thought to ask and figuring that if faith was of any value, it had to be mine and not theirs.   

Even in the search which filled those years, the way was paved with thinking and expressions not really so different from all that was in the past.  When college was history and seminary took its place in the past, I wandered into the parish as a pastor and preacher wearing The Shoes of Orthodoxy.  I found them and put them on again.  They still seemed to fit and they provided protection from the rough theological places out there in the world where I was walking.   

Lately, as I walk the road that has unfolded in this season of retirement, the fit seems a bit constraining.  They still look like they could go a long way up the road, but they are feeling too tight.  Taking them off is a frightening thing.  I am not really sure what bumps and rough spots might be ahead, but I have sat down now a time or two and pondered taking them off and walking barefoot across what seems like hard  and unyielding ground that will likely leave me with bloody feet. 

Testimony

As one who spent too many days waiting for tomorrow to come, I am grateful for the patience and the mercy of God Who continued to bless me with more days even though I often took for granted the day being given.  And as one who has sought too much after my own agenda, I am grateful for the kindness of God as He allowed me to try my own way without washing His hands of me.  And as one who has too many times been slow to forgive, I am grateful for the forgiving spirit of the Father God who never waited for me to come to my senses before offering forgiveness.    

Without God in my life all these years, I would be such an impoverished soul.  I would be so broken fixing would be impossible.  There have been many things which I have perceived as being needed in my life, but none has really been any greater than my need for God.  He has always been loving, life giving, caring, and compassionate.  He has been aware of the real needs of my life before I was able to express them.    If I should live another life time, there would not be enough time to speak the words of gratitude for His constant faithfulness and mercy. 

There are many things about this God who brought me into being and who has graciously blessed me with more days that I cannot understand, but I am more sure of the essence of who He is at this moment in my life than in those days of beginning when it seemed to me that I knew so much.  I am grateful for His love and for the way He has created me to give love to Him.  Mostly, I am just grateful.

The One Who Cares

On the day "The Lord's Prayer" was spoken into existence by Jesus, we were taught upfront to remember Who is receiving and hearing our prayers.  Jesus said, "Pray then in this way, Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name..."  (Matthew 6:9).   In a most upfront  manner, Jesus announces that prayer is no ordinary, run of the mill, conversation.  Even if our prayer conversation is about ordinary things, the One to whom our praying is addressed makes it a very special moment.  The fact that we are able to enter into a moment of intimate conversation with our Creator makes it unlike any other verbal communication.   

The assumption which is inherent throughout the whole of Scripture is that God not only takes delight in our desire to share our stuff with Him, but He also cares about it and us.  He is not a  hired man forced to listen, or a friend who is fulfilling the duties of friendship, or an uninterested listener captured by an unwanted conversation, but One whose heart is eager to respond to the concerns we lift up to Him.  God listening and caring about praying is not about sovereign responsibility, but about grace.   

We cannot fathom the depths of divine grace and what divine grace enables and sustains.  It is as important to our life as is the breath we breathe.  Without divine grace we would not be walking the road with Jesus, or anyone else.  And without divine grace we would have no hope at life's end of finally making it home.  The One to whom we pray is the giver of this grace and to Him we owe not just a few moments of devotional time, but our whole life and everything that gives it meaning.

The Presence

In the very early days of my journey with Christ, I came across a book entitled "The Practice of the Presence"  which was actually a compilation of the teachings of a 17th century monk known as Brother Lawrence.  He is, perhaps, best remembered for the way he spoke of experiencing the presence of God midst the pots and pans of the kitchen, but a closer look reveals him as a man who lived focused on cultivating a sensitivity to the presence of God in every day life.    

Brother Lawrence participated in the rituals and worship which was a part of monastery life; yet, he was not limited to those structured moments as he encountered holy presence in the world.   In many ways Jesus models this very thing in His own spiritual practices.  He was in the synagogue with the community as it gathered, but He was also constantly opening the eyes of those who followed Him to the way the things of creation revealed the Father and enabled the hearing of His voice.  The things He pointed out in His teachings were common things, so common that they were often unseen by most eyes. When He framed with words what He saw with His heart, they became objects inherently holy.   

While many things about our world has changed since the days of Jesus and Brother Lawrence, the holy remains present in everything which is around us.  There is no where we can walk where the presence of God cannot be known.  It can be found in the most marvelous sights of the creation and in the most horrible suffering on the face of the earth.  We are never alone.  We are never outside the realm of His voice.  Such is the promise of the One who said, "I am with you always."  (Matthew 28:20)

A New Prayer

While it often true that we can get so busy with stuff that we miss being blessed with some of the great blessings of the creation, they continue to be offered to us day after day.  Not every sunset grabs our attention to the point that we are stopped in our tracks and left with our mouths hanging open.  Not every full moon is spotted as it breaks the horizon bringing a beauty all its own into our world.  Not every bee buzzing around the flowers or the garden is seen as a show stopper.  We just continue on doing our usual stuff.    

What we see or do not see, what we experience or do not experience does not change the fact of the blessing being put out there for us.  When our eyes are open and our spirits attentive, we do often inwardly exclaim some silent word of acknowledgement.  In other words, we note the beauty of the sunset which is set majestically set before us.  Another option might be to enter into dialogue with the Creator of the creation.   

Even as every thing which is a part of the creation can be seen as a manifestation of the Creator God, so can our every experience provide an moment for breathing prayers of gratitude and wonder.  I remember one moment of watching a chicken run and thinking, "Lord, You must have a sense of humor when You created the chicken."  But, a more likely scenario is to see something which uplifts us and then to speak personal words of thanksgiving to God.  Once the conversation begins it can often lead to so many other things which abide in our hearts.  The moment of seeing the miracle of creation can become an open door to a new way to enter into prayer.

Two Types of Praying

When we turn to the Scripture for an understanding of prayer, we find ourselves encountering two types of praying that are distinctively different; yet, which also compliment one another.  The first is the kind of praying most of us started out doing in the days of beginning our walk along the road of faith.  Jesus introduced us to this type of praying as He taught His disciples, "When you pray, say..."  (Luke 11:2) and what followed was what we have learned to call The Lord's Prayer.  The Word is full of such prayers, prayers that have filled books of ritual and prayers as well as the hearts of many believers.    

Such prayers teach us that prayer is about doing.  They are about performing the ritual, or adhering to a pattern of devotion.  Praying in such a way became the work of the early church as in the case of the church gathering in a prayer meeting when Peter was delivered from prison. (Acts 12:6-17)  Not only was it done by groups gathered as prayers were offered in intercession, but it was also the means through which the Holy Spirit worked out holy plans among the church as was the case with Peter and Cornelius. (Acts 10)  The doing prayers seem associated with a time and place, or some specific need.  

But, there is also a second kind of praying to which the Word points us.  It is the being prayers.  The Apostle Paul lifts up this type of praying as he wrote to the early church, "pray without ceasing."  (I Thessalonians 5:17)  This kind of praying lacks the planning of ritual shaped prayers.  They are not shaped by time or space, but come spontaneously from the place within us where the Spirit is working.  Praying as Paul writes of praying cannot be done by the will, or by a plan because they are more like prayers that come from within as breath does when it leaves our bodies.  As we learn to be attentive to God in everything around us, we will find that the prayers that do not cease have a beginning. 

A New Season for Praying

When I was a boy on the threshold of becoming a man, I started following Jesus.  While there had been many start-ups in earlier years complete with trips to the altar and a lot of determination, somehow it never really stuck until I was ready to march up on the stage and get my high school diploma.  I remember my praying back in those beginning days.  It was mostly done at night before I made the trip to the land of dreams and as I recall it was often done on bended knee at my bedside.  It never really occurred to me that there might be other times for praying.  Once a day seemed like plenty back then.    

Over the years of moving forward into the future God was planning, the way I prayed began to change.  It became a common thing to pray not once, but often during the day.  Sometimes it was structured, but more often, it was not.  Praying seemed like the front door to a strong spiritual life and it was one through which I wanted to walk.  Something more always seemed to be on the doorpost ahead of me.   

And now as I live in this season of my life which I at one time thought of as the final season, I am learning to pray much like old Father Lawrence who experienced God's presence midst the pots and pans of the kitchen.  In this unfolding season of life, I am grateful for a growing awareness that there is no place I can move in this creation in which I am immersed where the Spirit of God cannot be experienced.  There is always the possibility of holy revelation.  And with that awareness the praying which was once so structured has become more like the prayer that is only a breath away. 

Holy Days

As long as the Ten Commandments stand, it will always be true that one day is set aside for purposes other than the work of the other six days.  "Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy.  Six days you shall labor and do all your work.  But the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God, you shall not do any work...."  (Exodus 2:8-10)  Not only is the Sabbath to be a day empty of the work of the other days, but is also to be regarded as holy.  Since Moses came down the mountain with the Word, this one about Sabbath has been handled in more ways than would seem possible.   

In my lifetime the world has gone from everything being closed on Sunday to the current anything goes on Sunday.  As a boy it seemed that the Sabbath was put in place to keep anyone from having any fun on at least one day a week.  And as a preacher for over four decades, I have done more than my share of making people feel guilty for not being in a church service on Sunday morning.   Figuring out what the Word is saying about keeping the Sabbath holy has been an ongoing challenge that continues for many of us even today.    

One of the things retirement has done is to create some space to think about things which were regarded as nailed down and poured in concrete.  As this season of life has unfolded, I have gone from thinking of one day of the week as one to be viewed as holy to a way of thinking that calls me to view every day as holy.  Even as every foot of the creation in which we live is holy so is every moment in which we live.  Every moment of our living bears the markings of the Creator who has given it to us.  If there is nothing else which makes it holy, it is the fact that it has passed through His hands as a blessing to us. 

A Second Question

Out there on a mountain near the Sea of Tiberias, Jesus found Himself being followed by five thousand folks.  They were out there with Him because of the way He had healed the sick.  Even before they all got where Jesus was sitting, He was wondering about a rather mundane and ordinary matter, "Where are we going to buy bread for these people to eat?"  (John 6:5)  Since the question was directed to Philip, he was the one who answered saying that six months of wages would not be enough.  While Philip saw the impossibility of feeding everyone, Andrew had noticed a boy who had five loaves and two fish.  "But what are they among so many people?"  (John 6:9)     

The Scripture tells us that Jesus had a plan.  His question was only designed to test the disciples.  With their answers Philip and Andrew revealed themselves to be "in the box" thinkers.  Their response to Jesus' question was framed by logic, their understanding of how things worked, and the realities within which folks lived.  There was no room within their answer for anything which pointed toward an attitude of faith in Jesus.   

When faced with our own set of difficulties, we often end up going the same way as did those two pragmatic disciples.  Our own "in the box" thinking which hinders a faith response is often revealed in our praying about the difficulties we face.  Most of the time we have something figured out that God can do which would bring us to a better place.  We know what can and cannot be done and we are quick to tell God what would work best for us.  Jesus calls us to let Him have a free hand to do with us and our problems in whatever way He might choose to do. 

One Day of Trouble

Some days seem full of trouble.   Some days seem so full of trouble that the foot gets almost too heavy to lift.  Going on can get tough, but then the hard journey can also remind us of something Jesus said in the section of Scripture known as the Sermon on the Mount.  In the 6th chapter we hear Him saying, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life...do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own.  Today's trouble is enough for today."  (Matthew 6:25, 34)  Jesus never promised us a day empty of trouble, but instead, He keeps reminding us in different ways to stay inside the present moment that He has given us.    

There is no question about our tendency to borrow trouble from tomorrow which makes the load for today even heavier.  As one more acquainted with trouble than we often think, Jesus knew that one day's trouble was enough for any shoulders, or heart.  And while it is not always easy to lay down the thoughts of trouble lurking beyond the horizon, there is no question that it is the sensible things to do.    

When our troubled spirits become obsessed with tomorrow's trouble, we lose our ability to focus on what confronts us in the today part of our life.  We end up failing ourselves and those who share the trouble with us.  But, perhaps, the greatest failure present in the loss of focus is the one which speaks of not trusting God.  He knows what is up the road beyond the reach of our vision and He already has a plan in place to keep us moving toward home.  Jesus' words in that Sermon remind us to stay in the present so we can know the future He is preparing for us.

The Unanswered Question

It was one of those questions without a real answer.  Jesus asked the man at pool which was supposed to have healing waters, "Do you want to be made well?"  (John 5:6)  Some might declare it to be a dumb question.  First, the man had been ill for thirty-eight years which was likely most of his life.  Secondly, he had been coming there for a long time with hopes that he could get in the water while it was stirred up and experience its healing powers.  Had he not wanted to be made well, he could have stayed at home.  It would have made his days much easier.     

Still, the question of Jesus is an important question.  It is the question which poses life changing issues.  Did the man want to cease having other people take care of him?  Did he want his excuse for not having a job taken away?  Did he want an end to the handouts of life?  Did he want his excuses and reasons which had been his number one answer to all of life's challenges removed?   If the man was made well, everything would change.  Was that kind of change what he really wanted?  Such was implicit within the question of Jesus.    

Instead of directly answering the question with a simple "Yes," he found a way to have one last pity party.  "Sir, I have not one to put me into the pool when the water us stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone steps down ahead of me."  (John 5:7)  Jesus' question showed a real grasp of human nature.  Like the man there at the pool, we do not always want what we obviously need.  The status quo can become such a comfort blanket that anything seems better than change.  And, of course, Jesus is not really interested in seeing us change.  He is about something even more frightening.  He wants to make us into something new.  (II Corinthians 517)

No Litmus Test

As John tells us the story, Jesus made two early in His ministry appearances to Cana of Galilee.  The first time was to attend a wedding where He turned water into wine which John described as "the first of His signs."  (John 2:11)  On His second trip He did a long distance healing of a royal official whose son was sick in Capernaum.  The official found Jesus in Cana of Galilee and "begged Him to come down and heal his son..."  (John 4:47)  Much to the dismay of the man, Jesus did not go, but instead said to him, "Go; your son will live."  (John 4:50)  As was always the case, Jesus was a man of His word.  This was as John puts it, "the second sign."  (John 4:54)

 One of the interesting things which happened that day is what did not happen.  There were no pre-conditions required for the act of healing.  No questions were asked to determine the father's worthiness.  The heart broken father did not have to be of a certain religious persuasion, or answer some theological question rightly, or even profess belief in Jesus.  The man's belief is only mentioned after Jesus spoke words of life to him.    

One of the problems which has stood in the way of our acts of kindness is the litmus test we often silently impose on the one who is in need.  On too many occasions when need met us eyeball to eyeball, we quietly measured worthiness, or need, or genuineness of faith.  Jesus did not ask the hurting man to meet some requirement before helping, He just reached out with love and kindness to do what He could do.  It is a good model for any of us to follow when human need crosses our path. 

The Power of the Encounter

The woman Jesus encountered at Jacob's Well in the heat of overhead sun had quite a story to tell when the noisy bunch of disciples  returned from their shopping trip to the local grocery store.  Their arrival brought an abrupt end to her life changing conversation with Jesus.  The Word speaks about that moment by saying, "Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city.  She said to the people, 'Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done.' "  (John 4:28-29)  There it is again.  Once again that gentle invitation, "Come and see" is hanging in the air for those who might have interest, curiosity, or spiritual hunger.   

There is no doubt that many responded to the invitation.  The story does not speak of a revival, but what happened seems to have happened in revival like fashion.  When people heard the woman to whom they had never given the time of the day, "They left the city and were on their way to Him."  (John 4:30)   And later the story tells us more as it says, "Many Samaritans from the city believed in Him because of the woman's testimony..."  (John 4:39)  So eager were they for more, Jesus stayed two more days.    Certainly, it was long enough for John to get the details of the story and certainly it was long enough for many lives to be changed by their own personal encounter with Jesus.    

One of the things which has gotten watered down by the church of our day is the power of a personal encounter with Jesus.  There was a time when good preaching was measured in large part by its persuasive power, people were invited to consider their own acts of "Come and see,"   and sermons were not filled with ambiguities.  The Apostle who wrote the gospel of John had in mind from the very beginning to present a word which would challenge those who read it to believe.  For John the issue was believing, or not believing.  There was no other option.  (John 20:31) 

The Inconsequential

Back in the college years when my roommate thought he could teach me to play the guitar, one of the songs we sang a lot was called, "Jesus met the Woman at the Well."  As you might imagine, it required only a few chords, but it did tell the story found in the fourth chapter of John.  One of the more curious things about the story is how it was told with such detail when no one was present there that day but Jesus and the woman.  Verse  8 of that chapter says, "His (Jesus) disciples had gone to the city to buy food."  I have often wondered if John might have lingered there with Jesus and did not include himself among those departed.   

Certainly, it is not an important thing to ponder too long.  There are surely more important things to consider in contemplative moments.  Maybe Jesus told John, or maybe John talked to the woman.  Who knows?  Having the answer is not something that will change the truths which are glaring at us within the written account of this unlikely encounter between one known as a sinner and One who had come to save sinners from their sins.   

Before we throw out the question as inconsequential pondering, it might be of some value to simply affirm that everything pondered from the Word does not have to belong to the earth shaking variety.  Every part of the Scripture has been written and passed down through the centuries because it is divinely inspired.  (II Timthy 3:16)  Watching an ant crawl around the ground may seem to be inconsequential, but then Thoreau might disagree as would the writer of Proverbs who wrote, "Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider her ways..."   (Proverbs 6:6) Who knows what is out there waiting to be revealed as we ponder the world of the inconsequential?

A Fishy Story

When Matthew, Mark, and Luke tell of the moment when Jesus first called disciples, it sounds fishy.  It sounds fishy in that they each offer some variation of "Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men."  (Matthew 4:19).   When John, the writer of the fourth gospel, wrote about that moment, he went in an entirely different direction.  As we read his account, we are told that John the Baptist pointed his disciples to Jesus.  In their initial encounter they asked Jesus, "Rabbi, where are you staying?"  and He replied by saying, "Come and see."  (John 1:38-39)     

These words open up new possibilities.  "Come and see" calls for a commitment to a willful choice that results in figuring it out for yourself.  It is Jesus' way of saying that listening to John the Baptist is not enough.  It may get them started in the right direction, but at some point they will have to see and know what is out there for themselves.  This call is not a call to a static life but to one that will be ever evolving into something new.    

 "Come and see where the road takes you.  Come and see where I am going.  Come and see if where I am going is where you want to go.  Come and see if you are willing to go where you cannot see."  There is a lot to hear in those three inviting words of Jesus.  As I think back to my beginning moments with Jesus, I do not think I heard everything He was saying, but I am grateful He was willing to take me on the journey, nonetheless.  His grace and my choice has made all the difference!

Come and See

Going to the place where he knew Jesus to be was a most difficult journey for Nicodemus.  The thing most remember about this unlikely seeker is the fact that he went under the cover of darkness to avoid being seen by his peers.  Of course, the Word does not give us this as the reason, but such conjecture has been so prevalent, it has become reality.  Regardless of the reason for looking up Jesus at night, it was surely one of the hardest and longest journeys of this man's life.  He was at the top of everyone's ladder.  He was one of the ones who was regarded as in the know when it came to knowing about God.    

What is clear from the written text is that Nicodemus had been a watcher of Jesus for some time.  And, if not a watcher, then he had become a listener of those who came to him with reports about the activity of this young rabbi called Jesus.  (John 3:2)  What also seems clear is that Nicodemus was wondering if he might be missing something.  Had such had not been the case, he would have been at home instead of out in the dark past his bedtime.  For Nicodemus there was more than just a little risk in seeking out Jesus.  On the one hand, his peers would be appalled and he would fall in the world of public opinion.  But, on the other hand, what must have felt like a greater risk was living a life that ended up at the end being empty. 

So, he went.  He went just like so many of the rest of us.  Many of us were not convinced in the beginning that Jesus was who the Word declared Him to be, but we ended up going to see, nonetheless.  When John wrote about Jesus calling His disciples, he did not use the invitation, "Follow me,"  but "Come and see."  (John 1:39)  This is what drew the likes of Andrew, John, Nicodemus, and maybe even, you and me. 

A World View

When the disciples returned from their shopping spree in town, they found Jesus at the well having a deep conversation with a Samaritan woman.  They probably could not believe their eyes.  Not only was he talking with a strange woman, but a Samaritan woman.  According to their world view, He was with the bottom of the social barrel.   Certainly, their response was different than some days earlier when Nicodemus showed up after dark for a private conversation with Jesus.  They were likely a bit in awe that such a pillar of the religious community would come for a visit.  According to their world view, Nicodemus was at the very top of the social order.  

As the stories are told, it seemed to make no difference to Jesus.  He was as comfortable with one as He was with the other.  He did not talk down to one and give deference to the other.    The two people who had their meeting with Jesus had nothing in common.  Actually, Nicodemus would not have spoken to the Samaritan woman, and the Samaritan woman would have had no regard for Nicodemus.  Each of them along with the disciples lived in a world where the things which divided people were so large that exclusion instead of inclusion was the order of the day.   

The gospel writer we know as John makes it clear that this world filled with the things which separate people was not the world of Jesus.  As John 3:16 reminds us, Jesus lived in a "whosoever" world.   And when the gospel writer wrote at the beginning of his gospel, "All things came into being through Him (Jesus)..."  (John 1:3), he was writing with a broad enough pen to include every single one of us.  While we may think differently at times, there is no one out there around us who is not one of us.  We all bear the markings, the essence, the spiritual DNA of the Creator and in such a world, there is no room for "them and us."

Grace Upon Grace

We can never get enough grace.  But, then, as we read the Word, we come to understand that there is more than enough to go around to all of us.  The Apostle Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans, "...where sin increased, grace abounded all the more."  (Romans 5:20)  And in another letter, he would speak of the all sufficient nature of grace.  (II Corinthians 12:9)  When it comes to grace, it is like this inexhaustible resource.  No matter how much is given to us, there is always more to get us through and past the next need.   

In the Prologue of the gospel of John, this disciple of Jesus affirms this same truth as he says about Jesus, "From His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace."  (John 1:16)  The image of grace upon grace is one which speaks powerfully to the need of our spiritual life.  Early in our journey of faith, we are tempted to think that somehow it is about what we do in expressing our devotion to God, or what we do in service to the needy ones around us, but if we are blessed to walk awhile with Christ, we begin to realize that it is truly about His grace enabling us to become who our heart longs to be.    The spiritual life is not a do-it-yourself project, or a self-improvement program, but a journey that is dependent on something we do not deserve and cannot earn. 

The journey we walk is paved with grace upon grace.  It comes to us, fills us, and enables us as if we are walking in the long shadow of Jesus.  The closer we are to Him, the greater the awareness of this life giving grace.  May Christ be before us, may Christ be behind us, may Christ be beside us, may Christ be within us that we might constantly know this marvelous gift of grace upon grace.

The Heartbeat of Christ

Celtic spirituality makes a great deal of the image set forth of John the disciple reclining against Jesus when they gathered for the last time in Jerusalem before the crucifixion.  As the Celtic tradition unfolds this image, it speaks of John being so close to Jesus that he was able to listen to His heartbeat. (John 13:21ff)   It is indeed a powerful image upon which Celtic spirituality has stood through all the centuries.  When this image is linked to the one about which John writes as he says that Jesus is one "who is close to the Father's heart."  (John 1:18), it becomes even more powerful. 

As John leaned against Jesus, it could be said that he heard a heartbeat that was an echo of the very heartbeat of God.     One of the things we long for in our spiritual journey is a sense of intimacy with Christ; yet, even as we silently confess this longing, there is fear within us of the very thing our soul seeks.  It is one thing to have this walking relationship with Christ and still another to live so close that His heartbeat and our own merge.  Of course, this is not to suggest a physical merging of heartbeat, but a merging of our spirit, our will, and the whole of our own life into the life He lives before and seeks to live through us.  

Our living in sync with the intentional will of Christ is not a thing made possible by our own determination, but of our willing to have no determination except that which determines an emptiness He is then allowed to fill.  This heartbeat of Christ gives life to our spiritual journey as the Spirit is allowed to do the heart work He has in His heart to accomplish in us.  As long as we hold tightly to any part of our life as a way of maintaining a measure of control, we cannot really hear and know the rhythm of the heart of Jesus for it can beat in us only as we have died to whatever it is for which we live.

The Truth Among Us

Anyone doing a front to back reading of the gospels quickly realizes new land has been entered when the first words of John appear on the page.  The Prologue right at the very beginning is a real Stop Sign for any reader who has built up steam and is hurrying along to the end.  Jesus is introduced not through a birth story, or as a baptismal candidate, but in language that brings heaven and earth so close together the holy incense can be smelled.  Instead of facts about Jesus, John fills the spirit which powerful images that send it soaring into realms of mystery.   

The Prologue also tells us something about what is to follow.  Such is the function of any good beginning.  As Jesus is introduced as one "full of grace and truth,"  the door to what follows is open.  Everything about Jesus' life, everything about every personal encounter, and everything about that awful moment on the cross shows us what grace look like as it takes on the humanity common to us all.  Not only do we see Him as the Model for grace, but we also see Him as the embodiment of truth.  Later in John's gospel we actually hear Jesus saying, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life."  (John 14:6)     

As we pay close attention we realize Jesus is not proclaiming Himself to be "a" truth among many truths, but "the" truth meaning that it is greater than and more pervasive than anything else humankind might define as truth.  When we hear these words, we are tempted to do as the ancient Hebrews who were tried to worship at two altars.  We want to put Jesus on a level with other proclaimers of truth, but to do so is to run the risk and reap the results of those rebellious Hebrews of long ago. 

Following the Truth

While it might seem strange to say, finding the truth is not always an easy task.  Look at any political campaign and the two combatants speak of the same thing, but both according to their particular bias.  One hardly can find any truth in that arena.  Or, consider for a moment some of the divergent teachings about God and it is not hard to understand how the secular mind can become confused.  So much of the stuff we hear today as news is so empty of truth that it is hardly something worthy of our listening time.  

The search for truth always seems to be a difficult thing to figure.  Pontius Pilate had his struggles.  The self righteous Jews who were the pillars of the status quo spoke their word in one ear.  The pressuring words of Rome were filling the other and Jesus was standing in front of Him.  In the midst of so many voices declaring to be pointing toward the truth, Pontius Pilate asks the question, "What is truth?"  (John 18:38)  It was a question Jesus chose not to answer in their verbal exchange as Pilate was not really looking for truth so much as he was a way out. 

It would appear that the gospel writer, John, recognized the difference between the law and truth as he wrote, "The law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ."  (John 1:17)   As we think back to the Sermon on the Mount it is obvious that truth goes beyond and above the requirements of the law.  Over and over we hear Jesus saying, "You have heard that it was said,...but I say to you..."  (Matthew 5:21).  The law can only seek to direct outward conduct, but it is our striving for a heart so changed that the law is not necessary that keeps us on the road where Jesus is walking.   

Grace and Truth

In the Prologue of the gospel of John, the Apostle takes us into a realm of thinking about Jesus that is so different from Matthew, Mark, and Luke.  While it shares the narrative style of writing, it tends to cause some head scratching, soul searching, and other things that go with reflective thought.  It points us more to images than precise verbal renderings.  An example is the way John causes us to consider Jesus as the One "full  of grace and truth."  (John 1:14)  He not only creates this new image, but he also develops it by making a contrast to Moses.   

All Hebrews knew and respected Moses as the deliverer of the Hebrews from Egypt, but also as the great law giver.  In verse 17 of that same chapter, John writes,  "The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ."  (John 1:17)  There are actually two contrasts to consider.   One is the contrast between Moses and Jesus.  The other is with two views of the world.  In one view the world is seen through the lens of the law, and in the other, the world is seen through the lens of grace and truth.  One is black and white and precise while the other is filled with shades of gray and an understanding that goes beyond the preciseness of the law.    

 A world of grace and truth does not negate the law, but provides road signs that help in living with its black and white demands.  Grace provides a way for those who fall short of the law and its demands for getting what is deserved while truth points to what is right in a way that the law is not always able to do with its precise requirements.  How significant that Jesus is the One who embodies and models One who respected the law, dispensed grace, and said of Himself, "I am...the truth."  (John 14:6).

Being Stuck

Anyone who has had a song get stuck in their brain in the morning to the point that it ended up being sung silently a hundred times during the day can understand how a piece of the Word of God can get stuck and remembered in much the same manner.  The image John created of Jesus being "full of grace and truth"  (John 1:14) has become a most recent personal illustration of this phenomena.  Every time my thought process moves into neutral, this image has had a way of returning.  Sometimes I wonder.  Is this just a function of the brain, or could it be a prompting of the Spirit to pay attention to what might not being seen?    

There is every reason to think it is sign that the Spirit is working.  According to the Words of Jesus, the Spirit "...will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you....He will guide you into all truth..."  (John 14:26, 16:13)  For those of us who are slow learners, the Spirit surely understands that some of us need to stay at the learning post longer than others and so He puts this Word in our mind until we have had some time with it.    

The truth is that there is always something new to learn about any portion of the Holy Word.  Not only is it divinely inspired, but that inspiration passed through the filters of knowledge and life experiences with which God has blessed us.  When we come to a place of figuring that we have it all figured out, we are further from the truth of God than we could possibly imagine.  There is ample room in all our lives for the times of pondering and wondering which enable us to be led into a new understanding of what the Spirit is seeking to say to us in the world which is a part of our present moment.

The Abiding One

When Jesus is described by the gospel writer John as being one who is "full of grace and truth,"  we catch a glimpse of the inner being of the Holy One sent into the world through Bethlehem.  To be characterized as one "full of grace and truth" speaks of a completeness that is almost beyond understanding. The state of fullness implies room for nothing else.  A fullness of grace and truth speaks of a heart empty of things like anger, vengefulness, resentment, deceit, and untruths.    

 It is a mistake to think that such was the heart life of Jesus simply because He was the Son of God.  What is being expressed in these words is the way the gospel writer, disciple, and Apostle knew Jesus.  What John witnessed in the living of Jesus was directly related to the connection Jesus had with the Father in heaven.  It was not an issue of will and determination, but of choosing to live immersed within the will of the One who sent Him.  His life was an expression of the heart of the Father.   

Our lives can be characterized as "full of grace and truth" to the degree to which we live connected to God through Christ.  A little later in John's gospel we hear Jesus saying, "I am the vine, you are the branches.  Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing."  (John 15:5)  The key to living a life which expresses grace and truth in every circumstance and in every relationship is Christ.  The difference is not found in us, but in Him who abides in us.

Not Yet

The gospel writer John had many interesting things to write about Jesus, but one of the more intriguing is found in the 14th verse of those opening words known as the Prologue as he spoke of Jesus being, "...full of grace and truth."  (John 1:14)  It is only five words, but it brings more to mind than could be put inside a traditional sermon or a three paragraph blog.  What is really found to be intriguing is Jesus being full of grace.  And, when we read the gospel account John wrote, we see over and over that Jesus responded to people He encountered out of that fullness of grace which resided in Him.   

If the Spirit works to make us after the heart and image of Jesus, He certainly has a lot more to do in most of and surely much to do in me.  While I would like to think that I relate to others out of a heart filled with grace, I must confess that other things compete for space.  I am like the farmer in the old story told back in the time when the white church in these parts was struggling with movement from segregation to integration who supposedly said to his preacher, "I know what the right thing to do is, I just ain't ready to do it yet."    It is not the issue of race which troubles this soul, but the reality that I am not always ready to offer grace to people of other opinions, or folks who express some basic dislike for me for some offense, or those whom I am not anxious to have in my circle of relationships.  It is too easy to offer something other than grace to so many.  I know what the right thing to do is, there are just those moments when I ain't ready to do it yet.    

Such a spirit is so unlike anything seen in the life of Jesus as we see Him walking the roads of Galilee, or the pages of the written Word.  When He found Himself in the presence of those whom His culture declared to be worthless,  or hopelessly filled with sin, or who despised Him, He always seemed to let that fullness of grace spill over on the pages of the story being written between Him and one of the least and unaccepted.  "Come and stay, Holy Spirit, leave me not to my emptiness, but persist in working until this broken heart of mine is restored to hold a full measure of the grace found in the heart of Jesus.  Amen."

The Unmentioned Word

At the end of the prologue in the gospel of John, there is an identifying Word about Jesus.  In verse 14 of that first chapter, it speaks of Jesus being "full of grace and truth."  And then a few verses later, the Word says, "From His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.  The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ."   While pondering these words, it occurred to me that the word "grace" is not a word used in the gospels.  According to one source, it appears only seven times, but never is the usage of the word attributed to Jesus.  Six of those times it appears in the gospel of John and the other time in Luke.     

What becomes obvious is that the scriptural usage of the word "grace" in the New Testament is primarily found in the other than gospel material.  When Jesus was pronouncing the Beatitudes, He never says, "Blessed are those who live with grace for they shall be given grace."  If the gospels record all the Words of Jesus, then the only conclusion is that He never used the word.  It is a conclusion to which most of us would not readily come as there is so much about His life which points us toward the fact that His life was an expression of the grace of God.   

As we reflect on the Words speaking of Him by saying, "(He) was full of grace and truth,"  we are reminded of His interaction with the woman caught in adultery, old Zacchaeus up in a tree, blind lepers along the road,and the constant failure of the disciples to get what He was saying.   It may be true that we have no record of Jesus using the Word, but there are so many stories about Him which reveal the reality of grace being given expression in His living.  It is an example which would do us all well to follow.