The Purpose

John had one purpose for writing his gospel.  He makes it very clear in the 31st verse of the 20th chapter.  At this point the Word of God says, "But these things are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in His name."  This story was not written to entertain readers.  It was not written to correct any theological heresies.  It was not written to make a name for the author.  It was written for one single and one most important purpose.  John wanted people to believe in Jesus.  His is a gospel bent toward the persuasive.

 

It often seems that we have forgotten why a man would write with such a purpose.  It seems strange that a man would write with such a passion for one single thing.  So much of what we hear as the gospel these days lacks the urgency of this message from John, the disciple of Jesus.  Too often the preachers sound the message in a "take it or leave it--it doesn't really matter" fashion.  Seldom do we hear the call to believe now instead of when you have time to get to it.  Sermons have become little talks to make folks feel comforted or good about themselves instead of hard words that the Spirit can use to bring listeners to a place of being convicted and convinced of the sin present in the heart.

 

When I was learning to preach, no sermon was considered finished until some kind of invitation was offered.  The idea was that preaching was to be persuasive and not informational; thus, people should always be given an opportunity to respond in some way.  In that context, it was not unusual to invite people to believe in Jesus as their Savior.  It is unfortunate such is no longer the norm because the need of people to hear a persuasive invitational word has not changed.

Morning Smoke

One of my favorite Biblical stories comes in the 21st chapter of John after Jesus serves breakfast on the beach.  Reading between the lines with a healthy imagination enables me to see Jesus rising from the ground, clearing His throat, nodding His head toward Simon Peter in an invitational kind of way, and then walking off with him down the beach.  His arm is around Peter's shoulder as they walk away from the place the meal was shared. The morning smoke does as it always seems to do.  It hangs heavy in the air, close to the ground.   Three times Jesus asks, "Do you love me?"  "You know that I love you," declares Peter.  And then Peter smells the smoke that is drifting heavy in the air and he remembers the last time such a smell filled the air.  It was the night when he three times denied he knew Jesus. 

 

Surely, it was a moment when Peter's shame and sorrow hung more heavily in the air than the morning smoke.  As quick as the wind shifts from one direction to another, the mood of Peter changed from pleasure at being pulled apart from the group to deep sorrow for his own betrayal of this One he professed to love so much.  But, as surely as Jesus had gone to the locked upper room for Thomas, He walked now on the beach for Simon Peter.  It was not  the intent of Jesus to bring shame and judgment upon the head of Peter, but to bring to him an assurance that he still belonged.  There was no judgment and condemnation in the air, only mercy and forgiveness.

 

The things within us that we would choose not to face about ourselves are surely known to Jesus.  As we see Jesus and Peter, we are reminded that not even these dark things of the heart are beyond the mercy of our Lord.  He sees in us what we do not want to see and what others cannot see; yet, He still looks at us with a spirit and heart of forgiveness.  He is ready to assure us that we still belong to Him.  His love is always greater than our darkest and deepest sin.   

Breakfast on the Beach

The gospel writer John could tell a good fishing story which is what he did in that 21st chapter of the gospel that bears his name.  Good fishing stories are not filled with generalities, but specifics.  No good one is told without details and most of them embellished!  The Breakfast on the Beach fishing tale has all sorts of specifics.  Just after daybreak  No fish, then a boatload.  To be exact, 153.  Good fishing stories always include how many are caught and how many got away. Nets full of fish.  Large fish.  One hundred yards off shore.  A charcoal fire with fish cooking.  Specifics abound!

When the fishing part of the story comes to a close, the disciples are on the beach smelling fish cooking over a charcoal fire.  The disciples had fished all night and caught nothing until Jesus told them what to do and there is Jesus on the beach without His feet being wet with fish cooking.  Where and how did He get His fish?  And why did He tell them to bring some from the overflowing nets?  The silence of those fishermen around the fire and in the presence of Jesus surely indicates the fact that the turn of events was overwhelming.  No one had started the night of fishing expecting to eat fish cooked by Jesus on the beach.  Fish and bread for breakfast.  If that did not bring back a memory of another time of great blessing, nothing would.

Once again we see Jesus in the midst of the ordinary.  Once again He is out there with all the human stuff.  The smell of the dressed fish on His hands.  The smut from the fire.  The odor of sweaty working men all around Him.  Smoke blowing and burning His eyes.  Being aware of the discomfort of others simply because He is present with them.  Jesus surely shows up in the sacred spaces of the sanctuaries in which we gather on Sunday, but if we should be missing Him there, look more closely at the commonplace, the profane, the ordinary, the sweat and blood kind of places and He will likely be found and experienced every bit as much, if not more than He often is on those sacred Sunday morning hours.

The Missing Disciples

By my count some are missing.  The 21st chapter of John starts out with a fishing story.  Simon Peter says, "I am going fishing."  Six other disciples responded, "We will go with you."   Six and one makes seven.  Seven is a long way from twelve, or eleven considering Judas Iscariot has permanently left the group.  And one of the six, Nathaniel, is not one of the original band of The Twelve, but a "Johnny-come-lately."  (John 1:45 ff.)  Regardless of how it is figured, it is obvious that some are missing.  Maybe they did not like the idea of going fishing, but what they missed was more than fish. They missed a blessing.

How many times have we missed a blessing we could have received from Jesus if we had just shown up?  Maybe those missing from that morning fishing trip figured there were more important fish to fry than getting out and actually catching some which is certainly an understandable possibility.  And, maybe our life is so full of things that we have deemed as most important that there is no room for Jesus to show up in our life in some surprising and unpredictable moment.  I remember some years ago at one of those church meeting when a speaker shared how his church always included a line item in the budget for any unplanned things the Holy Spirit might want to do.  His was a church that expected the Spirit to provide leading through the course of the year that was outside the boundary of expectations or planning. 

Giving God room to act is always a good thing.  Doing that requires a lifestyle that has some flexibility built into it.  It may also mean being open to moving in directions that seem a bit unsettling or uncomfortable.  The point is we sometimes have such a "poured in concrete" understanding about how Jesus is going to bless us that we give Him no room to bring those blessings into our lives.  We end up missing blessings from Him that He would choose to give. 

A Circuitous Route

Few encounter with Jesus stories are known as well and preached more than the one which belongs to  Thomas.  No one hears the name without attaching the label, "Doubter."  On the afternoon of the resurrection, Jesus appeared to the disciples who had gathered secretly in Jerusalem behind locked doors, but Thomas was not with them.  And later when those who were present told him about their encounter with the risen Jesus, he would not believe them.  Though they were trusted friends with whom he had spent three good years, the word they spoke about Jesus beating death was too much for him to handle.  So, the middle name "Doubter" became a part of his identity.

 

Of course, he allowed himself to be persuaded to show up in the same place the next Sunday and Jesus showed up, too.  To read the story of the encounter is to see that Jesus came that day for Thomas.  While Thomas is known as the one who doubted, it is also true that he should be remembered as one who  came to a belief that would carry him to his own moment of dying for the sake of Jesus. The story of Thomas reminds us that the journey of faith sometimes takes a circuitous route.  The important thing was not his doubt, but his belief.  More than anything else, this is what the gospel writer wants us to see. 

 

There are many things important in our life, but none is more important than personal faith in this Christ who died and was raised from the dead for all our sakes.  If the sum of all our encounters with Jesus brings us to such a place, then none of them have been in vain.  Few of us always travel the road that goes in a straight line to the desired destination.  Thomas may have taken a detour that afternoon of the resurrection, but he stayed with it through the confusion and came to a belief that sustained his life and carried him home.  And, so it can and often goes for us, too.

Name Calling

How many times a day do we hear someone using our name in their conversations with us?   Try an experiment today.  Count the number of times you hear your name.  No doubt we heard it many times a day when we were growing up at home.  Our parents were constantly using it to separate us from the herd.  But, later it life, it seems different.  Sometimes not even those intimate others in our life use our name.  We can spend a day with friends and never hear it.  We often come to a place where we miss hearing it.  And, when someone does use our name, it really gets our attention.  Our name is important to us.  It is good to hear it.

 

In the garden of the empty tomb, we hear Jesus speaking to a bewildered woman, "Mary!"  (John 20:16)  Upon hearing Jesus speak her name, the confusion of the moment was gone.  She immediately knew Him.    In another very familiar story, we hear Jesus saying to a woman too busy with the details of getting ready for Him, "Martha, Martha,..."  (Luke 10:41)  And, of course, there is that story of Jesus standing outside a tomb and crying out with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" (John 11:43)  And, he did.  Some say had Jesus not called out the name of Lazarus, all the dead would have come out on His command!  What a sight that would have been!  Calling the name carries with a note of intimacy; it communicates attention; it is a declaration of knowing.

Jesus knows the name of each one of us.  In one place He speaks of those who love Him as His friends.  Friends know names.  Jesus knows you and He knows me.  While most of us are not as disciplined as we need to be to hear Him speaking to us, if we are we should surely not be surprised to hear our own name being sounded in the inner part of our being where we hear the divine voice.  Learn to listen.  It is worth the investment of whatever time it takes.  Imagine Jesus speaking to us and imagine Him speaking our name.   Listen.  Listen.  Keep listening.  Be assured He is speaking.

Coming Out

Today's Christian young people are more visible and vocal about their faith than I was when I belonged to that age group.  As I look back through ancient eyes and a memory that fades now and again, I realize that God was working on my heart at a very early age.  Even before my teenage years I lived with both a consciousness of God and an awareness of a certain oughtness in my life.  By the time I reached early adolescence. I knew I wanted to live as a Christian.  And, I called myself doing it.  But, I also wanted no one to know.  With all the teenage pressure to be accepted and be "in," I decided it was in my best interest to be a Christian without anyone knowing about it.  This went on for years before I finally came to that moment of coming out.

 

Had I been Biblically as literate as I might have been, I would have seen a couple of folks in the scripture who went the "let's be a secret Christian" route.  One was Joseph of Arimathea about whom the Word says, "who was a disciple of Jesus, though a secret one..."  (John 19:38) and the other one was Nicodmus who much earlier in his life sought out Jesus under the cover of darkness.  At this point in the gospel story, both show up to tend to the tend body of Jesus.  They had their coming out at the cross.  One can only wonder it they had not from a respectable distance watched the horror on that hill.  And when it was done, neither the public eye nor keeping Jewish law took precedence over showing this act of devotion for Jesus.

When folks saw Joseph and Nicodemus doing what they did, they surely thought, "they are one of them."  Using today's vernacular, they had "outed" themselves.  It took standing before the crucified Christ on the cross to being them out in the open as disciples of Jesus. The cross has that kind of power over folks.  To come before with eyes to see who died there and for whom He died can be a life changing experience.  Some of us have stood there and we made the decision to walk with the Christ out there in the sunlight of our life.  It is the only choice which truly speaks of gratitude to the Creator God for the life and the love He has given us.  Stand now alongside Joseph, Nicodemus, and centuries of others who have made that life changing choice.