Requiescat in Pace, John Stott

Posted on July 28, 2011 by Wyman

When I read John Stott’s The Cross of Christ in seminary, I knew that I had discovered an author who I would return to time and again. It was not my first acquaintance with Stott. I had seen his book, Basic Christianity, on my Dad’s shelf as a boy, and had already associated him with that strand of scholarly, congenial Evangelicalism within which I personally feel most comfortable. (Note: I do not mean by that that I consider myself a scholar! I am not a scholar. I simply say this because I think that title has to be earned by men of acute mind and perception, both of which I lack, personally. I grow irritated when I hear preachers refer to themselves as “scholars” when they are not. Instead, I am referring simply to the kinds of authors I like to read and the overall milieu within which I feel most at home in terms of focus, temperament, and theology.)

Later, I would read Stott’s wonderful little books, Evangelical Truth (with its suggestion of a triune ordering of Evangelical essentials), Why I Am A Christian, and The Radical Disciple. His book, Baptism and Fullness, helped me immensely in sorting out my own thoughts on the whole issue of the alleged “second baptism in the Holy Spirit” that is part and parcel of much modern charismatic teaching. I have also listened to what preaching of his I could find (Stott has preached at the Beeson Divinity School before, though I simply cannot remember if I heard him at a conference or simply heard the audio) with great interest and profit.

John Stott was an amazing scholar, a prolific author, a balanced and careful theologian, and a man of great humility. He was appropriately irenic and winsome, though he did not lack strong convictions.

I am sorry to hear of his death, though I rejoice at his homegoing.

Sinclair Ferguson’s The Grace of Repentance

Posted on July 27, 2011 by Wyman

Sinclair Ferguson’s The Grace of Repentance is a bit of a mixed bag. It is profoundly insightful when discussing biblical repentance. It is, in my opinion, less so when he draws an analogy between modern Evangelicalism and medieval Roman Catholicism. Even here, though, he makes many valid and very important points.

Ferguson rightly bemoans the lack of biblical thinking on the matter of repentance and the nearly invisible role that repentance plays in the understanding of evangelism and conversion in some quarters of Evangelicalism today. He points to Luther’s language in the first of the ninety-five theses as an accurate description of the New Testament understanding of repentanc:

“When our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, said ‘Repent’, He called for the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”

I agree.

Ferguson argues that this is nothing short of the essence of biblical teaching on the matter, and he aptly supports this contention with strong scriptural backing. He demonstrates the seriousness of sin and the seriousness with which Scripture handles repentance. Furthermore, Ferguson argues against shallow contemporary notions of repentance that essentially reduce this important truth to a one-time, momentary, surface, emotional regret over sin. On the contrary, true repentance is a life-long journey and an opening of oneself to radical transformation and change through the indwelling power of the Holy Spirit. In asserting this, Ferguson helpfully marshalls a number of etymological evidences from scripture that illustrate the seriousness of the biblical call to repentance.

In likening modern Evangelicalism to medieval Catholicism, Ferguson makes some valid points but also missteps as well. He offers the customary Reformed objection to the altar call as a kind of neo-sacramentalism, but this is needlessly overplayed. To be sure, the altar call can be, and often is, abused by well-meaning Christians. But it’s all in the way it’s handled and presented, no? There is nothinginherently misleading about giving people a place to respond to the working of the Holy Spirit in worship and, when handled rightly, there is much that is commendable about the practice. I would want to take Ferguson’s cautions into account when considering how we handle the altar call, but I find what appears to be his dismissal of the invitation act (in worship) to be strained and unnecessary. This isn’t the place for a defense of the altar call, but I believe a robust case for response-in-worship can, indeed, be made.

Furthermore, his critique of the sensuality (for lack of a better word) of much modern worship is strained as well. Ferguson complains that:

“Worship is increasingly becoming a spectator event of visual and sensory power, rather than a verbal event in which we engage in a deep soul dialogue with the Triune God.” (45)

Yes, a lot of worship services have been reduced to spectacle, to a kind of theater for the senses. And, yes, there can be no doubt that the proclamation of the Word has been reduced and neglected in many American Christian churches. In this regard, he is right to voice his concern. I am not merely saying this to try to placate. On the contrary, the reduction of the verbal proclamation of the Word of God in many churches is a deep, church-weakening tragedy that must be addressed.

But when Ferguson calls worship “a verbal event in which we engage in a deep soul dialogue with the Triune God,” does he mean merely verbal? How, for instance, does he explain God’s call for rich sensory experiental worship in the Old Testament? Granted, worship in the New Testament church is substantially different as we proclaim Christ’s fulfillment of the sensory acts practiced in Old Testament worship, but the strong presence of such elements in Old Testament worship at least establishes that the senses can play a part in helping the people of God grasp divine truth.

What is more, In the New Testament, does not the Lord Jesus appeal to the senses when preaching outside and asking His audience to consider the birds? I rather suspect He might even have pointed to the birds when preaching this. This was no merely verbal event. And what of Christ’s initiation of baptism and the Lord’s Supper and His prescription of these sense-stimulating physical symbols for the Church? The ordinances appeal to the senses to further communicate gospel truth. What of the biblically prescribed singing of hymns, a verbal and melodic sensory act? What of the New Testament “holy kiss,” a non-verbal sensory act prescribed in the New Testament (a practice that has not – thankfully ((in my opinion)) – translated into our culture, but was, nontheless, a part of Christian life in the first century)?

The reality is that biblical worship has never been a merely “verbal event.” In right measure and proportion, the senses can assist verbal proclamation to the glory of God. I understand the tradition from which Ferguson comes. I share it in part and admire it to a large extent. But worship is more than a “verbal event” and I fear that such denunciations may poison the well for what might be valid, church-edifying, gospel-promoting practices that do not deserve censure.

Finally, Ferguson’s effort to support the modern-Evangelicalism-equals-medieval-Catholicism analogy by comparing mega-churches with the construction of St. Peter’s is the weakest of his efforts. Yes, certain analogies might be made, I suppose: the unnecessary fleecing of a people for the construction of an opulent cathedral, the satiation of an ecclesiastical despot’s ego with the erection of a gargantuan edifice for his own glory, etc. Ok. I guess. The mega-church phenomenon certainly has its own dangers. But there are important differences as well. Most mega-church buildings, for instance, are built with the offerings of freely-associating members who choose to give. They are usually built when crowd size deems it necessary. In most cases, these structures are not built to house the cathedra of an Evangelical pope, but rather to provide space for a large congregation, etc. Of course, tragic exceptions are not difficult to find, but I suppose the question of whether or not these exceptions are the norm is a matter of debate. I doubt they are the norm.

Ferguson knows this, of course, and he offers a caveat in the book to that effect. He is not trying to slam mega-churches per se. But one does wonder if there is enough meat here to even justify the assertion? Furthermore, what of Spurgeon’s church in its day? It was the mega-church of the time and I daresay Ferguson would stop short of likening it to St. Peter’s basilica.

Please note that these weaknesses do not constitute the sum total of Ferguson’s argument in this book. They are, in fact, rather peripheral to the central argument of the book. On the main, this book is a fantastic primer on biblical repentance and the need to approach it with a robust, scripturally-informed understanding. Even those few points I question personally are not totally without merit. They just need to be thought through carefully.

In all, a helpful little book. I remain deeply appreciative for the writings and ministry of Sinclair Ferguson, and what he has said here concerning repentance has challenged me in substantial ways.

I recommend it.

John 8:1-11

Posted on July 20, 2011 by Wyman

John 8:1-11

¹but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. ² Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him, and he sat down and taught them. ³The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst ⁴they said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. ⁵Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” ⁶This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. ⁷And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” ⁸And once more he bent down and wrote on the ground. ⁹But when they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. ¹⁰Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” ¹¹She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.”

I have mentioned before Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Kerenina. It is one of the most famous stories outside of the Bible of a woman caught in adultery. In the story, Anna is an adulterous woman who is having an affair with a man named Vronsky. That novel’s fame is justified. In it, Tolstoy explores the realities and challenges of sin, forgiveness, justice, and faith in a fascinating way.

There’s a poignant scene in the story in which two characters, Stepan Arkadyevitch and Levin, are discussing women who have fallen into sin. Levin is hard and unyielding in his condemnation of fallen women. He says that women who fall into sin are “vermin” and are detestable to him.

When he says this, Levin reminds him of the woman caught in adultery in John 8. After all, the woman in John 8 was an adulterous woman, but Jesus forgave her and did not condemn her. In fact, Jesus famously turned to her accusers and said, “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.” When he points this out to Stepan Arkadyevitch, Arkadyevitch responds:

“Ah, drop that! Christ would never have said those words if He had known how they would be abused. Of all the Gospel those words are the only ones remembered.”

He then moves on to continue his tirade against women who have fallen into sin.

It’s an interesting scene. Stepan Arkadyevitch argues that the words, “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone,” have been abused and taken out of their context. Now, he does so because these words challenge his hatred of women who have fallen into sin. Mercy challenges Arkadyevitch’s hatred.

But is Stepan Arkadyevitch right? Has this scene in John 8 been twisted to justify any and all sin regardless of repentance? Have they been abused?

In a sense, it would seem that Arkadyevitch is correct, at least to some extent. This episode has indeed been used out of context to justify various behaviors. Most people remember the words “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone,” but very few remember the words, “Go and sin no more.”

I recall some years back when Madonna released her “Like a Prayer” music video. It was unbelievably blasphemous and offensive. Shortly after that, she was touring in Italy and the Vatican publicly expressed its outrage. I recall her quoting these words to the media gathered at the Italian airport: “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.” She claimed those words, but she didn’t pull the video.

So, yes, when these words are divorced from the subsequent call to repentance that Jesus issues, they can be, and often have been, distorted into a kind of license. This scene can be abused.

But let us be perfectly clear here: just because the mercy and grace of Jesus Christ has been abused by those who would distort it to their own agendas does not mean that we should abandon the mercy and grace of Christ! In truth, we need this story so desperately that I don’t know how to stress it in strong enough terms.

All good things are open to abuse and the greatest things are open to the greatest abuse. But this doesn’t undo their greatness. In this scene, the Lord Jesus shows such unbelievable mercy, grace, and forgiveness that the mind boggles at seeing it. Along the way, he challenges the scribes and Pharisees in their own self-righteousness and hypocrisy.

It’s an amazing scene, and one that we should carefully consider today.

I. An Impure Enforcement of the Law (v.1-6a)

The setting of this scene is straightforward enough:

Sometimes you don’t have to find trouble. Sometimes it finds you.

Jesus is in the temple and He is teaching the people. Unlike the previous scene of conflict surrounding His teaching, there is an air of relative calm here. It’s early in the morning and He’s sitting, teaching the people.

Into this scene barge a group of religious leaders. The scribes were something like lawyers. Sometimes they were called by that very term. They were experts in interpreting the Old Testament Law. The Pharisees were a conservative party within Judaism that wanted to insure the purity of religious practice and devotion.

The come to Jesus and put before Him a sinful woman.

⁴they said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. ⁵Now in the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women.

On the face of it, they are correct. In Leviticus 20, the Law says:

¹⁰“If a man commits adultery with the wife of his neighbor, both the adulterer and the adulteress shall surely be put to death.

In Deuteronomy 20, the Law says:

²² “If a man is found lying with the wife of another man, both of them shall die, the man who lay with the woman, and the woman. So you shall purge the evil from Israel.

On the surface of it, then, these religious elites are correct. This woman is, in fact, guilty under the Law of adultery and the penalty for her sin is, in fact, death. Even so, there are problems here, as our text reveals next:

^5bSo what do you say?” ⁶This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him.

They appear simply to desire the opinion of Jesus on a legal matter, but verse 6 reveals to us that their motives are impure and self-serving: “This they said to him, that they might have some charge to bring against him.”

It has been noted by commentators on this text that, in reality, Jesus, not the woman, is on trial here. It is Jesus they are seeking to trap and Jesus they seek to destroy. The woman is merely a pawn in their game.

The specific dilemma they are seeking to force Jesus into is two-fold. On the one hand, if Jesus does not call for the enforcement of the Law in this situation, they can bring against Him a charge of sin, disobedience to the Law. They may also seek to charge Him with blasphemy, of elevating Himself above the Law. On the other hand, if Jesus does call for the enforcement of the Law, He violates Roman law since the Romans did not allow subjected peoples to carry out capital punishment. In this sense, the Jews could report Jesus to the Romans for sedition if He sought to disobey Roman law by enforcing the Jewish Law.

The Jews are seeking to cast Jesus onto the horns of a dilemma, to trap Him, as it were, in an inescapable trap. But in so doing they themselves contaminated the Law with an impure and vicious spirit.

We may think here of King Herod who pretended to want to worship the baby Jesus when all he really wanted was to destroy Jesus. The come with false pretences to Jesus, for they seek to destroy Him. In doing so, they make themselves blasphemers of the Law that they would pretend to treasure.

So it is whenever the people of God seek to use the Word of God for selfish gain. More generally, we do this whenever we seek to enforce justice with impure motives. We even recognize this in children and seek to squash it. For instance, how many of you have ever had one child repeatedly tattle on another child? After a while, even if the tattling is true, you turn on the tattler and reprimand him or her for doing so. Why? Because their motives are tainted and impure.

A few years back I did some work in the area of church discipline. In the process of that work, I studied a number of instances of church discipline in Baptist churches and churches of other denominations throughout the years. One of the things I discovered that I found very interesting was that many Baptist churches would bring church discipline against the accuser of another brother or sister in Christ if they found that the accuser’s motives were impure or hypocritical. If, for instance, you were trying to utilize the ministry of church discipline to grind a personal axe, to advance a personal agenda, to harm another person, or with disregard for your own sinfulness, you could be excommunicated alongside or instead of the one you were accusing.

It is a dangerous thing to use the Word of God with impure motives. An impure enforcement of the Word of God is as deplorable today as it was in this scene when men with impure hearts sought to tear the Law from the heart of scripture and use it as a weapon against the Lord Jesus Himself.

II. A Selective Application of the Law (v.6b-9)

Not only were this woman’s accusers’ motives impure, their application of the Law was selective. Their sinfully selective application of the Law was revealed in Jesus’ fascinating response to their questioning of Him and their demand of justice.

To begin, Jesus does something very, very odd. It is, quite frankly, one of the more puzzling passages in all of scripture. It is tantalizing for what it does not say:

Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground.

He bends down and writes on the ground. Again, this is tantalizing because we do not know with certainty what Jesus wrote. Of course, lack of information has never restrained Christian people from guessing, and so it is with this text. While we will never know for sure, some of the theories about what Jesus wrote are more compelling than others. For instance:

· One of the more interesting and ancient theories involves Jeremiah 17:13. That verse reads:

“O LORD, the hope of Israel, all who forsake you shall be put to shame; those who turn away from you shall be written in the earth, for they have forsaken the LORD, the fountain of living water.”

St. Augustine and St. Jerome both appealed to this verse as a possible explanation of Jesus writing in the sand. Jeremiah foretold a time in which “those who turn away” from the Lord “shall be written in the earth. Was this prophecy being fulfilled here? Perhaps Jesus was writing the names of these self-righteous scribes and Pharisees in the earth.

· Or was the medium the message here? Some see significance in the fact that Jesus writes in the dirt, a temporary, shifting medium. Whatever He wrote or drew there would not last. Since the scribe and Pharisees were appealing to the Law of God, which was written in stone, was Jesus perhaps making a statement of contrast by writing or drawing in the dirt, on a temporary medium? Perhaps He wrote the word “adultery” in the sand. The Law, in other words, is eternal. It is written in stone. But our sins can be forgiven. Perhaps Jesus wrote her sins (or their sins?) in the earth to foretell that she (and they?) could be and would be forgiven.

· Or did it relate to the Law in a different manner? Is the significant fact that He wrote in the dirt with His finger? After all, they are appealing to the Law. This woman has violated one of the Ten Commandments. The Ten Commandments, as they well knew, were written by the finger of God Himself. So was this a symbolic prophetic statement by Jesus concerning His own deity? By writing with His finger, was Jesus pointing to the irony of the situation: that these scribes and Pharisees were trying to catch with the Law the very One who wrote the Law?

· Others suggest that these theories make more of this episode than is really there. It has been suggested that Jesus is simply delaying, trying to let the situation cool down a bit. Perhaps this is the case, though I find it unlikely, personally.

· The theories, as you can imagine, go on and on. Was Jesus writing out the sins of the woman’s accusers? Was He writing the name of the man with whom she had committed adultery, but who was not brought to this impromptu trial with her? Was Jesus possibly writing the names of those among the accusers who had committed adultery themselves?

· Regardless, there is another explanation which is certainly true: we have no idea! That’s the most unsatisfying answer, of course, but also the most accurate. We will simply have to wait until we can ask the Lord…though when that time comes this detail will be the furthest thing from our minds.

Whatever He wrote or drew, the delay seemed to agitate His questioners even more.

⁷ And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” ⁸ And once more he bent down and wrote on the ground.

It is a tricky thing to try to throw the Lord Jesus onto the horns of a dilemma, as these religious elites learned. Jesus once again goes to the heart of the matter: “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.”

These words are justly hailed and widely remembered by all who have heard them. They reflect divine insight and staggering perceptiveness. They cut to the quick by putting their proverbial finger on the very issue that has lurked behind this episode all along: hypocrisy.

These leaders are being hypocritical. For one thing, in their appeal to the Law concerning the woman’s adultery they were breaking the Law, for the Law clearly called for the execution of both the man and the woman. Since they said they caught the woman “in the act,” that means they knew who the man was. But where was the man? Some have suggested that one of the woman’s accusers was the man in question. Who knows? Regardless, by appealing to the Law at the same time they were breaking the Law, they made themselves hypocrites.

But something else is going on here as well. In Matthew 5 in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said:

²⁷ “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ ²⁸But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.

Jesus said that any man who had looked upon a woman to lust after her had committed adultery in his heart. Whether one of the woman’s accusers was the adulterous man in this situation or not, Jesus is turning the searing, stinging light of their own judgment back upon them.

“This woman has sinned,” the men sneer. “And what about you,” Jesus seems to be saying.

It is an easy thing to become preoccupied with the sins of others, isn’t it? It is easy to see the adultery in another while ignore the adultery in our own lives. “But,” you might say, “I have never committed adultery.” According to Jesus adultery is more than the physical act. Adultery is a condition of the heart and mind. One may be an adulterer and never have physically committed the act. Such was certainly the case with at least some of these men. It is possible that some of them had committed adultery with this very woman in their minds or were doing so at this very time when they were condemning her.

They are preoccupied with this woman’s sins while neglecting their own. We do this all of the time, don’t we?

After fifteen years of preaching, I never cease to marvel at the back door of the church when somebody comes by and says, “That was a good sermon, preacher. There were a few people here who really needed to hear that!”

I always think, “Really?! Are you kidding me? You are listening to sermons for others? What about you?”

And what about you? Have you ever been guilty of seeing the sin in another’s life while overlooking it in your own? Have you ever judged somebody when, if you’re honest, you know that you’re just as guilty as him or her, and maybe in the exact same area?

I think Shakespeare put this well in The Merchant of Venice when he wrote:

“Though justice be thy plea, consider this,

That in the course of justice, none of us

Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;

And that same prayer doth teach us all to render

The deeds of mercy.”

Jesus asks them, in essence, to consider whether or not they could stand under their own standard of justice. Jesus tells them to stone the woman only if they are less guilty. His response hits the mark, for He knew their hearts. Their reaction is telling:

⁹ But when they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him.

They knew – from oldest to youngest – that Jesus had other-worldly insightfulness into their hearts and minds. They knew, when they were honest with themselves, that they were as guilty as this woman. And they knew that they had been selective in their application of the Law, applying it to the woman but not to themselves.

So they depart and leave the woman standing before Jesus.

III. A Graceful Fulfillment of the Law (v.10-11)

Jesus now turns to the woman and addresses her. You will note, I hope, that Jesus is the only one in the story to acknowledge the woman’s existence as a human being. He is the only one in the story to address her directly. And what He says is astounding:

¹⁰ Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” ¹¹ She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.”

Jesus does not condemn her. She is guilty, but Jesus shows her grace. This is shocking grace, scandalous grace, the kind of grace that self-righteous Pharisees are rarely ever able to grasp. I like how Julie Stoner captured the essence of the offensiveness of Jesus’ grace in her poem, “I Did Not Come to Call the Righteous”:

We ninety-nine obedient sheep;

we workers hired at dawn’s first peep;

we faithful sons who strive to please,

forsaking prodigalities;

we virgins who take pains to keep

our lamps lit, even in our sleep;

we law-abiding Pharisees;

we wince at gospels such as these.[1]

Indeed, our self-righteousness winces at this kind of grace, but in our minds and hearts we know we need this. This word – “Neither do I condemn you.” – is the very essence of the gospel. Paul put it like this in Romans 7:

¹There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

When we come to Christ, we pass from condemnation to freedom, from death to life, from darkness to light. When we look closely at this text, though, I think we can conclude two important things about this freedom from condemnation.

First of all, I believe it is reasonable and right to see the woman’s repentance as implicit in Jesus’ forgiveness. “Go; and from now on, sin no more.” Jesus knows that her heart has been captured by grace. But would she have been free from the condemnation of the Law had she responded, “No. I will take your gift, but I reject You. I reject You, Jesus, and I choose my adultery instead”?

Would Jesus have reassembled her executioners to recommence the stoning? No. I think not. But if she would have rejected Christ would she have remained under the condemnation of the Law? Yes. She would have.

“Neither do I condemn you” is not a license for further sin, a kind of “Get Out of Jail Free” card that we throw down haughtily to escape the guilt of our sin. Jesus’ point in this passage is clearly not that sin is without consequence and guilt. Rather, His point is that, in Him, sins can be forgiven.

And this leads to our second conclusion about Jesus’ lack of condemnation. Not only was this linked with the woman’s repentance and acceptance of Christ, but it was also linked with the person and work of Jesus on the cross.

Let me explain.

One of the things we must realize is that Jesus never condemns the Law itself in this passage. The Law of God, the demand for holiness, and the evil of sin are divine truths. Adultery is sin in the eyes of God. Adultery is a condemnable offense in the eyes of God. Adultery does fall under the judgment of God.

The Lord Jesus never condemned the Law itself. In Matthew 5, the Lord Jesus says:

¹⁷ “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. ¹⁸For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. ¹⁹ Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven.²⁰For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

I repeat: the point of this story is not that the Law is bad. The Law – that which defines what is honoring to God and what is dishonorable – is rooted in the holy character of an immutable God. Adultery is wrong now and always.

So the woman has broken the Law, and she is under condemnation. That is right and just in and of itself. There is a penalty for breaking a law, and that penalty stands until paid for. But Jesus tells the woman that He does not condemn her (which, I hope you will notice, is an amazing statement of His own divinity and authority).

So that raises a very interesting question: if the Law rightly condemns, and if the woman has broken the Law, and if the condemnation of the Law stands until payment is exacted, then how can Jesus say she is not condemned? If Jesus says she is not condemned, then what has happened to her condemnation? Has it simply evaporated? No. For the penalty to disappear the Law itself would have to disappear and the Law of God is eternal and right.

So where is the condemnation that legally goes with her violation of the Law?

Or, to put it another way: who pays the price for this sin?

Somebody has to pay for this woman’s adultery. If, as Jesus says, it is not the woman, then who?

Who is going to pay for the woman’s adultery?

Who pays the price?

I like to imagine this woman walking in her newfound forgiveness. The words of Jesus have echoed in her head: “Neither do I condemn you. Neither do I condemn you. Neither do I condemn you.”

I imagine her living her life in the glorious freedom of those words: “Neither do I condemn you.”

Then I imagine her out walking one day when she notices a large crowd and commotion in the city. She inquires of somebody standing near: “What is happening? What is going on?”

The response: “They’re crucifying some rabble rouser outside of the city. That guy named Jesus.”

I imagine her heart skipping a beat. I imagine her running outside of Jerusalem up to Calvary. I imagine her standing there in shock and disbelief. There, on the center cross, hangs the man who said the words that changed her life: “Neither do I condemn you.”

There He hangs. Jesus. Her Savior. Her Liberator. Her friend. Jesus.

I imagine her drawing near to hear what He will say. He seems to want to speak. He opens His mouth and speaks: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Then she understands. She understands where the condemnation went, where the price is paid. She understands that the condemnation for her sin has not disappeared into thin air. Instead, it has been placed on this crucified, soon-to-be resurrected Jesus. The price is paid here, on Calvary, on that cross, in the person of Jesus.

“Neither do I condemn you,” she hears Him saying again. Then she finishes the thought: “Neither do I condemn you…for I will be condemned in your place. I will be condemned for you. Your adultery will fall upon Me, and I will take the wrath in your place. I will pay the price. Go and sin no more.”

Brothers. Sisters. Friends. There is no condemnation in Christ, for He has been condemned in our place. There is no need for you to be.

Come to Him and be freed.

Come to Him and live.

[1] Julie Stoner, “I Did Not Come to Call the Righteous.” First Things, no.194 (June/July 2009), p.20.

John 7:25-52

Posted on July 11, 2011 by Wyman

John 7:25-52

²⁵ Some of the people of Jerusalem therefore said, “Is not this the man whom they seek to kill? ²⁶ And here he is, speaking openly, and they say nothing to him! Can it be that the authorities really know that this is the Christ? ²⁷ But we know where this man comes from, and when the Christ appears, no one will know where he comes from.” ²⁸ So Jesus proclaimed, as he taught in the temple, “You know me, and you know where I come from? But I have not come of my own accord. He who sent me is true, and him you do not know.²⁹ I know him, for I come from him, and he sent me.” ³⁰ So they were seeking to arrest him, but no one laid a hand on him, because his hour had not yet come. ³¹ Yet many of the people believed in him. They said, “When the Christ appears, will he do more signs than this man has done?” ³² The Pharisees heard the crowd muttering these things about him, and the chief priests and Pharisees sent officers to arrest him. ³³ Jesus then said, “I will be with you a little longer, and then I am going to him who sent me. ³⁴You will seek me and you will not find me. Where I am you cannot come.” ³⁵ The Jews said to one another, “Where does this man intend to go that we will not find him? Does he intend to go to the Dispersion among the Greeks and teach the Greeks? ³⁶ What does he mean by saying, ‘You will seek me and you will not find me,’ and, ‘Where I am you cannot come’?” ³⁷On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. ³⁸Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.'” ³⁹ Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive, for as yet the Spirit had not been given, because Jesus was not yet glorified. ⁴⁰ When they heard these words, some of the people said, “This really is the Prophet.” ⁴¹ Others said, “This is the Christ.” But some said, “Is the Christ to come from Galilee? ⁴² Has not the Scripture said that the Christ comes from the offspring of David, and comes from Bethlehem, the village where David was?” ⁴³ So there was a division among the people over him. ⁴⁴ Some of them wanted to arrest him, but no one laid hands on him. ⁴⁵ The officers then came to the chief priests and Pharisees, who said to them, “Why did you not bring him?” ⁴⁶ The officers answered, “No one ever spoke like this man!” ⁴⁷ The Pharisees answered them, “Have you also been deceived? ⁴⁸ Have any of the authorities or the Pharisees believed in him? ⁴⁹ But this crowd that does not know the law is accursed.” ⁵⁰ Nicodemus, who had gone to him before, and who was one of them, said to them, ⁵¹ “Does our law judge a man without first giving him a hearing and learning what he does?” ⁵² They replied, “Are you from Galilee too? Search and see that no prophet arises from Galilee.”

In his essay, “What Are We To Make of Jesus Christ?” C.S. Lewis suggests that that question really is absurd on the face of it. He said that the question is not, “What am I to make of Jesus Christ,” but, “What is Jesus Christ to make of me?” He also said that that question, “What am I to make of Jesus Christ,” is like a fly looking at an elephant and saying, “What am I to make of this elephant?”

That’s a really good point, and yet, it is an important question: “What am I to make of Jesus Christ? Who is Jesus Christ to me?” After all, Jesus asked His disciples this very question in Matthew 16:15, “Who do you say that I am?”

It was also the question on everybody’s mind at the Jewish Feast of Booths when Jesus went up to Jerusalem in the beginning of chapter 7. In fact, the reactions Jesus received there ran the gamut from rejection to acceptance. Even so, the reactions Jesus received then are precisely the same reactions He receives today.

In our text this morning, we will see four reactions to Jesus. As we look at these, I hope you will look closely at your own heart and ask yourself, “How am I reacting to Jesus right now?”

Reaction #1: Rejection Based on a Faulty Assumption of Understanding (v.25-30)

The first reaction we see this morning is a rejection of Jesus based on a faulty assumption of understanding. Last week we saw Jesus go up to Jerusalem for the Feast of Booths, or Tabernacles. He begins to teach and His teaching elicits strong and often conflicting reactions in the crowd.

A portion of the crowd suspects a kind of political intrigue. Why is Jesus preaching unopposed? Regardless, this portion of the crowd moves on to an expression of their main reason for rejecting Jesus:

²⁷ But we know where this man comes from, and when the Christ appears, no one will know where he comes from.”

In light of all that we’ve seen in John thus far, this is an astounding assertion. They reject Jesus because (a) they believe they know where He comes from and (b) they believe that the origins of the Christ, when He comes, will be unknown. Again, this is astounding, but mainly because it is so patently false. Jesus has already demonstrated time and again that the crowd has no idea from where Jesus comes. They clearly do not know his origins so at least their first assumption is mistaken. In other words, their rejection of Christ is founded on a faulty assumption of understanding. They think they know more than they know.

Jesus’ response in verse 28 contains a certain measure of restrained sarcasm:

²⁸ So Jesus proclaimed, as he taught in the temple, “You know me, and you know where I come from?

Translation: “Oh, really?! You know me, and you know where I come from?” I should point out that sarcasm is not inherently sinful. It can be used in an appropriate way to undermine a notion that is untrue or absurd. This is what Jesus is doing. The notion that the people know Jesus is absolutely absurd. They clearly do not. Jesus continues:

But I have not come of my own accord. He who sent me is true, and him you do not know. ²⁹ I know him, for I come from him, and he sent me.” ³⁰ So they were seeking to arrest him, but no one laid a hand on him, because his hour had not yet come.

Not only do they not know Jesus, they do not know His Father, the God they profess to be worshiping at this very time. They claim to know more than they actually know and Jesus rightly calls their hand on it.

It is a tragedy when a person rejects Jesus. But arrogance is piled onto the tragedy when a person rejects Jesus on the mistaken notion that they know Jesus when they don’t. There are people all over Arkansas who think they have rejected Jesus when, in reality, they do not know Him or the gospel accurately enough to reject Him

I once took a group of young people to camp. On the trip was a fifteen-year-old boy who claimed to be an atheist. He was very strong in his opinions and had read widely in atheist writings. One night at camp he and I sat and talked for about three hours. He told me that he had rejected Christianity because he had studied it and found it unconvincing. I told him that I was glad he had studied Christianity so that he and I could have a common starting point. But first, I pressed him a bit on his knowledge. I began to ask him basic questions about Christian theology and the Bible. After a while it became clear that his claims of knowledge were based on a faulty assumption. Finally I told him that, honestly, in my opinion, he did not know enough about Jesus to reject Him. He was rejecting a Christianity that I had never heard of.

Have you ever experienced that feeling? Have you ever experienced the sensation, when speaking to lost people, that if God really were like the God they claimed to reject, you would reject Him too? Most of the time when I hear atheist or non-Christian reasons for rejecting Christianity I think, “Well, if what they are saying about Christianity were, in fact, true, I too would reject it.”

The people were rejecting Jesus on the assumption that they knew Him, but, in all honesty, they did not know Him at all. This happens frequently today. Let me give one example.

I believe it is oftentimes the case that people with overbearingly and suffocatingly religious parents eventually come to reject what they think is Christianity. But, on closer inspection, what these folks are really rejecting isn’t the faith, but the heavy-handed way that their mom or dad forced it upon them. So, in truth, many people who say they have rejected Jesus have really only rejected their own parents. The fact is they may never have actually known Jesus at all. All they ever really knew was the force-fed gospel of their parents. If asked, they would say, “I have rejected Jesus.” But this is only because they associate the name and person of Jesus with terrible memories of the religious abuse they received as kids. (As an aside, there is a difference between raising your children in the Lord and abusing your kids with religion.) They have a faulty assumption of knowledge which is based on their own pain and hurt.

I would suggest, when a person tells you that they have rejected Jesus, that you ask them to describe the Jesus they have rejected. You may find that you, also, have rejected that Jesus, and that the Jesus they have rejected is not the Jesus of the New Testament at all. I would suggest, when a person tells you that they do not believe the gospel, that you ask them to explain what gospel they are rejecting. You may find that they, like the people in the verses we just read, are operating on a faulty assumption of knowledge.

Reaction #2: Rejection Due to Carnal Thinking (v.32-36)

Another group rejects Jesus because they approach Him and His teaching with carnal, shallow, worldly thinking:

³² The Pharisees heard the crowd muttering these things about him, and the chief priests and Pharisees sent officers to arrest him. ³³ Jesus then said, “I will be with you a little longer, and then I am going to him who sent me. ³⁴You will seek me and you will not find me. Where I am you cannot come.” ³⁵ The Jews said to one another, “Where does this man intend to go that we will not find him? Does he intend to go to the Dispersion among the Greeks and teach the Greeks? ³⁶ What does he mean by saying, ‘You will seek me and you will not find me,’ and, ‘Where I am you cannot come’?”

How many times have we seen this exact scenario play out in the gospels? Jesus proclaims something on an upper-story, spiritual level, but the people attempt to receive it and interpret it on a lower-story, carnal, worldly level. So, for instance, when Jesus proclaims that He has food to eat that they know nothing about, the disciples want to know if somebody has slipped Him some bread. This kind of ships-passing-in-the-night moment happens almost repetitively in the New Testament.

Many people reject Jesus because they lack the imagination, courage, and, of course, spiritual ability to think beyond that very small sliver of reality they consider to be “the truth.” They craft their world around their own provincial assumptions and attempt to filter all that they see and hear through that grid. That’s what’s happening here.

Jesus proclaims that He will be with them for a little while, “and then I am going to him who sent me.” That is a powerful, divine, spiritual truth. It is an upper-story, spiritual truth that anticipates His salvific work on the cross, His resurrection, and His ascension. He is proclaiming to them His very reason for coming. They are privileged to have front-row seats to an astounding display of divine truth.

Yet, they reject this truth because their minds are carnal and bound to the earth. So they ask provincial and foolish questions: “Where does this man intend to go that we will not find him? Does he intend to go to the Dispersion among the Greeks and teach the Greeks? What does this man mean…?” Those asking these questions felt that they knew truth and reality well enough to pass judgment on Christ. But in truth they knew very little of the truth or reality!

Again, what Jesus is saying does not fit into their self-contained and self-constructed worlds. The truth is right in front of their faces, but they will not receive it because they will not think beyond their own paltry limits. Human beings oftentimes are unable to see past themselves to something amazing that challenges their perceptions of reality.

For instance, history records for us some amazing rejections of people and ideas and inventions at whom and at which we now marvel. Perhaps you’ve received some of these lists on email or have seen them online. Here are a few examples [1]:

“Balding, skinny, can dance a little,” they said of Fred Astaire at his first audition.

Beethoven’s music teacher declared him “hopeless” at composing.

Albert Einstein’s parents feared he was sub-normal.

An invitation was extended to witness one of humanity’s most historic moments – the Wright brothers’ first flight in their heavier-than-air machine. Five people turned up.

Walt Disney was fired for “lacking ideas.”

Thirty-eight times, publishers turned down Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind.

“All his discourses are redolent of bad taste, are vulgar and theatrical…” said a newspaper. Another paper described his preaching as “that of a vulgar colloquial, varied by rant … All the most solemn mysteries of our holy religion are by him rudely, roughly and impiously handled…” They were referring to C. H. Spurgeon, the man routinely hailed as the prince of preachers.

“Computers in the future may weigh no more than 1.5 tons.” –Popular Mechanics, forecasting the relentless march of science, 1949

“I think there is a world market for maybe five computers.” –Thomas Watson, chairman of IBM, 1943

“I have traveled the length and breadth of this country and talked with the best people, and I can assure you that data processing is a fad that won’t last out the year.” –The editor in charge of business books for Prentice Hall, 1957

“But what … is it good for?” –Engineer at the Advanced Computing Systems Division of IBM, 1968, commenting on the microchip.

“There is no reason anyone would want a computer in their home.” –Ken Olson, president, chairman and founder of Digital Equipment Corp., 1977

This ‘telephone’ has too many shortcomings to be seriously considered as a means of communication. The device is inherently of no value to us.” –Western Union internal memo, 1876.

“The wireless music box has no imaginable commercial value. Who would pay for a message sent to nobody in particular?” –David Sarnoff’s associates in response to his urgings for investment in the radio in the 1920s.

“The concept is interesting and well-formed, but in order to earn better than a ‘C,’ the idea must be feasible.” –A Yale University management professor in response to Fred Smith’s paper proposing reliable overnight delivery service. (Smith went on to found Federal Express Corp.)

“Who…wants to hear actors talk?” –H.M. Warner, Warner Brothers, 1927.

“I’m just glad it’ll be Clark Gable who’s falling on his face and not Gary Cooper.” –Gary Cooper on his decision not to take the leading role in “Gone With The Wind.”

“A cookie store is a bad idea. Besides, the market research reports say America likes crispy cookies, not soft and chewy cookies like you make.” –Response to Debbi Fields’ idea of starting Mrs. Fields’ Cookies.

“We don’t like their sound, and guitar music is on the way out.” –Decca Recording Co. rejecting the Beatles, 1962.

“Heavier-than-air flying machines are impossible.” –Lord Kelvin, president, Royal Society, 1895.

“You want to have consistent and uniform muscle development across all of your muscles? It can’t be done. It’s just a fact of life. You just have to accept inconsistent muscle development as an unalterable condition of weight training.” –Response to Arthur Jones, who solved the “unsolvable” problem by inventing Nautilus.

“Drill for oil? You mean drill into the ground to try and find oil? You’re crazy.” –Drillers who Edwin L. Drake tried to enlist to his project to drill for oil in 1859.

“Airplanes are interesting toys but of no military value.” –Marshall Ferdinand Foch, Professor of Strategy, Ecole Superieure de Guerre.

“Everything that can be invented has been invented.” –Charles H. Duell, Commissioner, U.S. Office of Patents, 1899.

“Louis Pasteur’s theory of germs is ridiculous fiction”. –Pierre Pachet, Professor of Physiology at Toulouse, 1872

“The abdomen, the chest, and the brain will forever be shut from the intrusion of the wise and humane surgeon”. –Sir John Eric Ericksen, British surgeon, appointed Surgeon-Extraordinary to Queen Victoria 1873.

“Stocks have reached what looks like a permanently high plateau.” –Irving Fisher, Professor of Economics, Yale University, 1929.

Indeed, an unwillingness to think beyond our own feeble grasp of reality has oftentimes hindered humanity and rendered our own understanding foolish in the end. Nowhere is this fact seen more clearly than in the case of Jesus.

Let us be perfectly clear on the challenge of Jesus Christ. Jesus did not come to reduce Himself so that He fits nicely into your little world. No, He came to expand your world, change it, transform it, and turn it upside down so that you might receive Him. Many reject Christ because what He says and who He is just doesn’t fit into their world. But the problem isn’t His greatness, it’s our smallness.

St. Augustine once prayed that the Lord might expand his heart so that there would be room for Christ in it. That is what these people refused to do, but it is precisely what we must do.

Reaction #3: Rejection Due to Religious Offense (v.37-52)

The third reaction to Jesus is perhaps the most pernicious and distasteful. It is the religious objection to Jesus. It is occasioned by the Lord Jesus calling the people to come to Him for salvation:

³⁷On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. ³⁸Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.'” ³⁹ Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive, for as yet the Spirit had not been given, because Jesus was not yet glorified.

He has said this before, of course. To the woman at the well He spoke of living water. In chapter 6 He spoke of being the bread of life. Jesus consistently called people to come to Him and live. The reaction to this teaching was powerful and divided:

⁴⁰ When they heard these words, some of the people said, “This really is the Prophet.” ⁴¹ Others said, “This is the Christ.” But some said, “Is the Christ to come from Galilee? ⁴² Has not the Scripture said that the Christ comes from the offspring of David, and comes from Bethlehem, the village where David was?” ⁴³ So there was a division among the people over him. ⁴⁴ Some of them wanted to arrest him, but no one laid hands on him.

Throughout history, the reactions to Jesus have remained consistent. Some believe Him, others want to destroy him. In the midst of the confusion, those who had been sent by the Pharisees to capture Jesus return empty-handed:

⁴⁵ The officers then came to the chief priests and Pharisees, who said to them, “Why did you not bring him?” ⁴⁶ The officers answered, “No one ever spoke like this man!”

I suspect this protest (“No one ever spoke like this man!”) was voiced rather sheepishly, but it was a challenge nonetheless to the Pharisees’ hatred of Jesus. This protest elicits from the Pharisees an almost venomous religious objection to the very idea that Jesus might just be who He claimed to be:

⁴⁷ The Pharisees answered them, “Have you also been deceived? ⁴⁸ Have any of the authorities or the Pharisees believed in him? ⁴⁹ But this crowd that does not know the law is accursed.” ⁵⁰Nicodemus, who had gone to him before, and who was one of them, said to them, ⁵¹ “Does our law judge a man without first giving him a hearing and learning what he does?” ⁵² They replied, “Are you from Galilee too? Search and see that no prophet arises from Galilee.”

Both to the officers and to Nicodemus, the Pharisees pour out the full brunt of their detestation. Their rejection of Jesus is based on their sense of religious entitlement, religious superiority, and religious power. In short, they try to pull rank here. They claim that the true religious experts reject Jesus so the common people should as well. We can almost envision their framed PhD’s in religion hanging over their shoulders as they rebuke the officials and Nicodemus (who had, of course, conversed with Jesus earlier).

It is a chilling moment. Those who should know Jesus best, those who had devoted their lives to the study of the Law and the Prophets, those who should have been most in tune with the divine truth of Jesus reject Him on the basis of religious offense and outrage. In fact, the religious leaders are rarely depicted in a positive light in the New Testament.

It is a verifiable fact that religious people are oftentimes the most hostile to Jesus. I will go a step further. It is sometimes even the case that those who claim to know Jesus take religious offense at Him when they are confronted with who He really is. I honestly believe that there are people in Baptist churches who, if you were to show them the truth about who Jesus really is, and if you could get them to be really honest, would literally hate the Jesus of the New Testament. I repeat: it is possible to be a good “American Christian” and actually not love the Jesus of the New Testament at all. Many have simply created a Jesus in their own image and love that Jesus instead. But we are not called to love our image of Jesus. We are called to love Christ Himself.

Another religious danger is the threat Jesus poses to our religious observances. Some people are so enamored by their religious work and their religious duties that they miss Jesus in the process. Some people are so busy loving the church that they fail to love Christ. Henri Nouwen once said that nothing conflicts with the love of Christ like service to Christ.[2] It’s an astounding idea, but also a true one.

Do your religious observances assist or hinder your devotion to Christ? Does your religion draw you closer to Christ or further away? Let us honestly assess the very real danger of religion. It blinded the religious leaders of the time to the truth of Jesus and, if we are not careful, it can blind us as well.

Reaction #4: Acceptance Based on the Evidence and on Jesus’ Power (v.31,40-41a)

But we should also notice a minority reaction to Jesus. It was a minority reaction in the first century and it is a minority reaction today. I am speaking of those who accepted Jesus as Savior and as Lord. Three verses in this lengthy text speak of those who accepted. We find the first in verse 31:

³¹ Yet many of the people believed in him. They said, “When the Christ appears, will he do more signs than this man has done?”

I love this way of putting it: “When the Christ appears, will he do more signs than this man has done?” These were people who had seen the evidence of divine power in the life and person of Jesus and who were won over to faith by what they had seen. To these people, it was inconceivable that that Jesus was not the Christ.

Others believed because of the power of Jesus’ teachings:

⁴⁰ When they heard these words, some of the people said, “This really is the Prophet.” ⁴¹ Others said, “This is the Christ.”

Within this congregation today, we undoubtedly have both of these groups represented. Some of you came to Christ because you have seen the power of Christ. Perhaps you saw the power of Christ miraculously transform the life of a person that you previously considered beyond hope. Perhaps you saw the power of Christ save your marriage. Perhaps you witnessed some miraculous display of God’s power. Regardless, there are those of you here this morning who believe because of what you have seen.

Others of you have believed because you have seen the power in the words and teachings of Christ. The message of the gospel and the teachings of the Kingdom rings true to something deep within you. When you hear the gospel you know that you are hearing words of life and truth. You are gripped by the message of Jesus just as the people in our text this morning were gripped and you have said with them, “This really is the Prophet. This is the Christ.”

Again, those who accept Christ are tragically few in number compared to those who reject. Even so, this number spans the globe. There are people all over the world who have rejected the worlds’ rejection of Christ. There are people all over the world who have dared to believe that which seems unbelievable to lost humanity. There are people all over the world who have seen and have heard and know that Jesus is indeed the Christ.

I plead with you this morning to come to Christ if you have not. Come to Him as He is and bring yourself as you are. Reject Him no more. He stands with open arms for you.

[1] The following list of rejections are taken from: https://www.net-burst.net/hot/rejection.htm, https://www.net-burst.net/hot/cope.htm, andhttps://philcooke.com/forecasts/

[2] Dallas Willard, The Great Omission (New York, NY: HarperOne, 2006), 94.

John 7:11-24

Posted on July 10, 2011 by Wyman

John 7:11-24

¹After this Jesus went about in Galilee. He would not go about in Judea, because the Jews were seeking to kill him. ²Now the Jews’ Feast of Booths was at hand. ³ So his brothers said to him, “Leave here and go to Judea, that your disciples also may see the works you are doing. ⁴For no one works in secret if he seeks to be known openly. If you do these things, show yourself to the world.” ⁵ For not even his brothers believed in him. ⁶Jesus said to them, “My time has not yet come, but your time is always here. ⁷The world cannot hate you, but it hates me because I testify about it that its works are evil. ⁸You go up to the feast. I am not going up to this feast, for my time has not yet fully come.” ⁹After saying this, he remained in Galilee. ¹⁰But after his brothers had gone up to the feast, then he also went up, not publicly but in private. ¹¹ The Jews were looking for him at the feast, and saying, “Where is he?” ¹²And there was much muttering about him among the people. While some said, “He is a good man,” others said, “No, he is leading the people astray.” ¹³Yet for fear of the Jews no one spoke openly of him. ¹⁴About the middle of the feast Jesus went up into the temple and began teaching. ¹⁵The Jews therefore marveled, saying, “How is it that this man has learning, when he has never studied?” ¹⁶So Jesus answered them, “My teaching is not mine, but his who sent me. ¹⁷ If anyone’s will is to do God’s will, he will know whether the teaching is from God or whether I am speaking on my own authority. ¹⁸The one who speaks on his own authority seeks his own glory; but the one who seeks the glory of him who sent him is true, and in him there is no falsehood. ¹⁹ Has not Moses given you the law? Yet none of you keeps the law. Why do you seek to kill me?” ²⁰The crowd answered, “You have a demon! Who is seeking to kill you?” ²¹Jesus answered them, “I did one work, and you all marvel at it. ²² Moses gave you circumcision (not that it is from Moses, but from the fathers), and you circumcise a man on the Sabbath. ²³If on the Sabbath a man receives circumcision, so that the law of Moses may not be broken, are you angry with me because on the Sabbath I made a man’s whole body well? ²⁴ Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment.”

Human beings love stories about individuals who are wholly consumed and recklessly obsessed with singular ideas.

For example, in 2004 Denzel Washington starred in a movie called “Man on Fire.” It’s about a former Marine named John Creasy who has been hired to offer private security for a wealthy family in Mexico. His job is to protect a little girl named Pita. Kidnappers take Pita, almost killing Creasy in the process. When he comes to and realizes what has happened, he goes on a single-minded, no-holds-barred, one-man mission to get her back. In fact, the movie is simply an ode to a man who has been gripped by a single idea: get Pita back. So the movie is entitled, “Man on Fire,” for Creasy was on fire with this one idea and nothing was going to get in the way of it.

People love stories of people gripped by single ideas. That’s probably why “Man on Fire” made over 100 million dollars worldwide.

This is also the reason why many people were really gripped by Liam Neeson’s 2008 movie, “Taken.” It’s similar to “Man on Fire” in many ways. In “Taken,” Neeson’s daughter is kidnapped and he is immediately gripped by a single idea: get his daughter back. If you’ve seen the movie, you know that Neeson’s character allows nothing to get in his way. He flies overseas, whoops countless bad guys, overcomes amazing obstacles, and does not stop until he gets her back.

A man gripped by a single idea, a man on fire with one thought, is a dangerous and fascinating thing.

Many years ago Soren Kierkegaard tied this idea into the purity of heart. Kierkegaard said, “Purity of heart is to will the one thing.”

That’s true isn’t it?

How quickly fame flies away.

In the beginning of our last chapter, we found Jesus at the height of what we might call “fame.” He has performed a dazzling miracle by feeding thousands of people out of just a little bit of bread and fish. In the aftermath, the number of people following Jesus increases dramatically. Even so, by the end of last chapter, the majority of His followers have left Him and He even presses His own twelve disciples to think long and hard about whether or not they might want to leave Him too. Bolstered by Peter’s strong declaration of faith, the twelve stay with Him. But here, in the beginning of chapter 7, we find a truly pitiful scene indeed. Jesus is rejected by His own brothers and then is questioned by a conflicted crowd.

Yes, fame doesn’t last long, especially when one is trying to do God’s will.

I. Jesus Honored the Father’s Timing (vv.1-10)

¹After this Jesus went about in Galilee. He would not go about in Judea, because the Jews were seeking to kill him. ²Now the Jews’ Feast of Booths was at hand.

There are two interesting truths presented in our first two verses. First, we see that Jesus was staying Galilee and avoiding Judea because of the hostility towards Him in Judea. We must understand that this does not mean Jesus avoided Judea because He was afraid. The text dispels that notion at many different points. Instead, the issue was God’s timing. It was not time for Jesus to be killed. It was not time for the final redemptive events of the last week of Jesus’ life to take place. So Jesus avoids Judea.

Second, we see that the Feast of Booths, or Tabernacles, is at hand. This is very important. You will remember how, over the last number of weeks, we have seen how John is retelling the story of the Exodus in the life of Jesus. We saw this in chapter six in Jesus’ miraculous multiplication of food, in Jesus saving the disciples on the Sea of Galilee, and in Jesus’ amazing teaching that He is the Bread of Life. It is interesting, then, that chapter seven begins with the Feast of Booths, for the Feast of Booths was the Jewish celebration of God’s miraculous provision for the Jews in their wilderness wanderings in the Exodus. The feast happened after harvest. It was seven days long, followed by an eighth day of celebration. It was one of the mandatory feasts. Jewish men had to attend it. It was called the Feast of Booths because, during it, there were countless little huts, booths, built all over Jerusalem for the people to stay in and to feast in.

So this is an occasion of great religious fervor and anticipation, for the Feast of Booths was also a time when the Jews looked forward to God saving Israel and miraculously providing for them again.

There is obvious irony here, isn’t there? This feast that commemorated God’s miraculous provision for Israel and God’s promised salvation of Israel was happening at just that time when Jesus was revealing that He was both of these things: the reason for Israel’s survival and the hope of Israel.

On the occasion of this feast, Jesus’ brothers taunt Him:

³So his brothers said to him, “Leave here and go to Judea, that your disciples also may see the works you are doing. ⁴For no one works in secret if he seeks to be known openly. If you do these things, show yourself to the world.” ⁵ For not even his brothers believed in him.

One cannot help but grieve here. It is a painful and awkward scene. In chapter six we saw an increasing measure of opposition to Jesus. His opponents multiply in their numbers. Now Jesus receives opposition from His own family, from His own brothers.

Mary and Joseph would have had other children after Jesus’ miraculous conception and birth. We know that many will come to believe in Him as Savior and Lord. But not yet. At this point, they not only don’t believe, they positively bristle at what is happening in their brother’s life. In their defense, it was certainly an awkward situation for the brothers to be in. There can be no doubt about that. How, after all, would any of us react to the suggestion that our brother was the unique Son of God? Even so, it is painful to see their rejection of their own brother in this way, and it is tragic that they do reject Him at this point.

They reject Him and they seem to taunt Him as well. “Hey, if you’re really so special, you need to go act on the big stage big brother. Go down to Judea, to the feast, and show the crowds what you’re really all about. Enough of these tricks in the countryside. It’s time to go big time!” You can image their sarcastic tones and knowing winks as they say this.

Jesus’ brothers, in essence, are tempting Him to go ahead and set the big events of His passion in motion. Jesus does not give in to their temptation:

⁶Jesus said to them, “My time has not yet come, but your time is always here. ⁷The world cannot hate you, but it hates me because I testify about it that its works are evil. ⁸You go up to the feast. I am not going up to this feast, for my time has not yet fully come.” ⁹After saying this, he remained in Galilee. ¹⁰But after his brothers had gone up to the feast, then he also went up, not publicly but in private.

Jesus plainly announces his absolute resolve to walk in the Father’s will and to reject all other competing timetables. His words clearly reveal the presence of two differing and conflicting timetables: God’s and the world’s.

Jesus’ brothers are thinking in the world’s terms. The world knows nothing of delayed fame. The world wants what it wants right now, immediately. So it is only fitting that Jesus’ brothers tempt Him, like Satan, to don a crown right here and right now. Their immersion in the world’s way of viewing time means that they themselves do not stand in conflict with the world. This is why Jesus says, “My time has not yet come, but your times is always here. The world cannot hate you, but it hates me because I testify about it that its works are evil.”

It is a fascinating and disturbing thought. Our conception of time, of our own plans, of the execution of our own agendas, runs counter to the divine conception of the same. We see this clearly in this exchange.

A man or woman on fire is a man or woman wholly committed to God’s plan and God’s timing for his or her life. Jesus refused to deviate from the script. He refused to take time into His own hands. He knew that His course was charted by the Father and He determined to honor that plan. This meant that Jesus’ timing often seemed nonsensical to those watching Him. Why, after all, would He not jump at the opportunity for greater fame during this Feast of Booths? In the world’s understanding of things, what better time could there be? And why, later, when His name was known by seemingly everyone, would He knowingly and willingly go up to Jerusalem to die? That made no sense at all to His disciples.

To be committed to God’s timing means standing resolutely on the conviction that God’s timing is superior to our own. Perhaps some of you have experienced this. Perhaps you have turned down a job because you knew it wasn’t God’s timing even though your family and friend’s could not understand it. Perhaps you delayed marriage simply because it wasn’t in God’s will for you at that particular time. Whatever it is (and it might be a thousand different things) it can be confusing to those watching when a believer commits to God’s timing. However, to the believer, there is no other option.

Like Jesus, we must decide whose plan and whose script we’re going to follow. We must determine to walk in His timing.

II. Jesus Taught the Father’s Will (vv.11-17)

A person wholly resigned to a singular conviction will necessarily be joyfully resigned to the timing of God. He will also be resigned to the will of God. Jesus was singularly resigned to the timing and will of God, as He revealed when questioned by the crowd.

¹¹ The Jews were looking for him at the feast, and saying, “Where is he?” ¹²And there was much muttering about him among the people. While some said, “He is a good man,” others said, “No, he is leading the people astray.” ¹³ Yet for fear of the Jews no one spoke openly of him. ¹⁴ About the middle of the feast Jesus went up into the temple and began teaching. ¹⁵ The Jews therefore marveled, saying, “How is it that this man has learning, when he has never studied?”

You will recognize the Jews’ question as essentially the same question they have asked many times over in many different ways before: “Who is this Jesus, really? How can He know the things He seems to know? How can He do the things He seems to do?” Their question is bolstered by two realities: (1) their mistaken assumption that they know the truth about Jesus (that He is merely a carpenter’s son) and (2) the fact that their carnal minds cannot grasp the truths of God. So they marvel at and stumble over the divine truths Jesus teaches as well as the fact that He, Jesus, is teaching them.

Jesus’ response to their questioning further demonstrated His unity with the Father and His singular conviction to walk only in the will of the Father.

¹⁶ So Jesus answered them, “My teaching is not mine, but his who sent me. ¹⁷ If anyone’s will is to do God’s will, he will know whether the teaching is from God or whether I am speaking on my own authority.

In saying this, Jesus not only revealed the other-worldly origin of His teaching, but also the importance of walking in God’s will. “If anyone’s will is to do God’s will, he will know whether the teaching is from God or whether I am speaking on my own authority.”

Desiring to walk in God’s will is therefore the doorway to perceiving, knowing, grasping, and understanding the origin and nature of divine truth. This is because only a will that has been redeemed desires to do God’s will in the first place. So when a man is saved, he desires the will of God and, in doing so, his mind and heart are opened and receptive to divine truth. Above all else, the redeemed mind is able to know Christ further: to know His origins, His identity, His nature, and to love Him.

Jesus walked in the will of God. His will was God’s will. Whoever saw Jesus saw the Father for Jesus walked only in the will of the Father.

This fact explained the conflict between Jesus and the Jews. There is no greater way to be in conflict with the world than to walk in the will of God. This is because the will of the world is diametrically opposed to the will of God. Some of you know the painful reality of this. It is, of course, never painful in an ultimate sense to walk in the will of God, but one does pay a price for doing so, no? Some of you have no doubt been the objects of questioning, of derision, and of laughter because you turned from a plan that made sense to the will of the world and embraced instead the will of God.

The two wills are not synonymous. To walk in the will of God is to conflict with the will of the world…and vice versa. It takes courage to walk in the will of God, but, when a person has bowed to Christ, no other option makes any sense at all. One may pay a price, including his own life, to walk in the will of God. Even so, this is what it is to be possessed by a singular idea, one all-consuming notion: to walk in the timing and will of God.

III. Jesus Desired the Father’s Glory (vv.18-24)

Above all else, a man on fire, a man possessed by a single and singular idea, is a man who desires the Father’s glory. Above all else, Jesus sought the glory of the Father.

¹⁸ The one who speaks on his own authority seeks his own glory; but the one who seeks the glory of him who sent him is true, and in him there is no falsehood.

His desire for the Father’s glory validated His teaching, for “the one who seeks the glory of him who sent him is true, and in him there is no falsehood.” In other words, had Jesus simply been seeking His own fame, His own reputation, and His own advancement, His teachings could have been questioned as self-serving and therefore false. But this is not what Jesus sought. Instead, He sought the glory of God. He sought it so radically that He was willing to give everything for it. The extent to which Jesus was willing to go and the extent to which He did go proved the validity of His own person and teaching, for nobody will give themselves to a horrible death merely for a reputation.

¹⁹ Has not Moses given you the law? Yet none of you keeps the law. Why do you seek to kill me?”²⁰ The crowd answered, “You have a demon! Who is seeking to kill you?” ²¹ Jesus answered them, “I did one work, and you all marvel at it. ²²Moses gave you circumcision (not that it is from Moses, but from the fathers), and you circumcise a man on the Sabbath. ²³ If on the Sabbath a man receives circumcision, so that the law of Moses may not be broken, are you angry with me because on the Sabbath I made a man’s whole body well? ²⁴ Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment.”

Jesus is speaking of the amazing miracle of the healing of the man at the pool of Bethesda. The Jews stumbled over this miracle. Furthermore, they committed hypocrisy in condemning it as a violation of the Sabbath. For the Jews would circumcise on the Sabbath when necessary and did not consider this a violation of the Law. In fact, they occasionally had to circumcise on the Sabbath in order not to violate the Law. If, then, the Jews were obeying the Law in the act of Sabbath circumcision, how much more was Christ in healing a man’s entire body?

But the hypocrisy of the Jews was not their greatest condemnation. Rather, their failure to see that the miraculous work of Jesus was for the glory of God was their greatest condemnation. They could not conceive of that which was most important to Jesus: the glory of the Father. There is also the implicit suggestion that the meticulous and bewildering lengths to which the Jews would go to keep the Law had become, for some of them, a means for their own self-glorification. Some of the proud Pharisees seemed to revel in their obedience to the Law. In doing so, they exalted themselves and violated the very heart of the Law. In contrast to this, Jesus did what He did because He understood both the particulars and the heart or essence of the Law: the glory of God.

All that Jesus did, He did for the glory of the Father. Jesus never sought to serve Himself, never sought His own advancement, and never sought His own glory. He was not like the religious celebrities of the day who condemned Him. They sought their own glory. Not so, Jesus. Jesus sought only God’s glory.

This was the single idea that consumed, drove, compelled, and defined Him: the glory of God.

What a marvel a glory-driven life is! What a world-transforming and gloriously-dangerous thing a glory-driven life is! This was seen ultimately and definitively in the life of Jesus. He was a man on fire with the glory of God, and He strove to get the people to see and understand this.

It is as if Jesus is saying, “Can you not see and will you not see that I am not doing what I am doing in order to exalt my name? I am doing what I am doing to exalt the name of my Father. I left my glory to come and be born out back, behind the Holiday Inn, so that God might get the glory. I am living as a simple, lowly man so that God might get the glory. I anger you by calling you to repentance so that God may get the glory even in you. I preach the Kingdom so that God may receive greater glory. I heal the sick to the glory of God and you call Me a blasphemer! Soon, I will be delivered into the hands of men, stripped of what little earthly dignity I yet retain, and be crucified naked before the world. But I do that too for God’s glory. I will be spat upon for His glory, beaten and buffeted for His glory, mocked, taunted, abused and pummeled for the glory of My Father. My closest friends will abandon me, but I will endure it for His glory. My mother will watch her son die in agony, but deep down she will know that I have done it for the glory of the Father. But then, the glory of God which drives me and to which I have given all that I am will shatter death’s chains and I will rise again, emanating and blazing with glory! It’s not about Me and My name. I give my life for the glory of the One who sent Me, and I am calling you now to do the same!”

I want to call upon the church to embrace a glory-driven life. I want to call upon any of you who do not know Jesus to come to Him today. Come to the Father through the Son. There is indeed no other way. Come as you are. Come in repentance and faith and trust. Let us all come to the glory-driven Christ and embrace Him today.

John 6:60-71

Posted on July 1, 2011 by Wyman

John 6:60-71

⁶⁰ When many of his disciples heard it, they said, “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” ⁶¹But Jesus, knowing in himself that his disciples were grumbling about this, said to them, “Do you take offense at this? ⁶²Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? ⁶³ It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. ⁶⁴But there are some of you who do not believe.” (For Jesus knew from the beginning who those were who did not believe, and who it was who would betray him.) ⁶⁵And he said, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father.” ⁶⁶ After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him. ⁶⁷So Jesus said to the Twelve, “Do you want to go away as well?” ⁶⁸Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, ⁶⁹and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.” ⁷⁰Jesus answered them, “Did I not choose you, the Twelve? And yet one of you is a devil.” ⁷¹He spoke of Judas the son of Simon Iscariot, for he, one of the Twelve, was going to betray him.

Wilbur Reese really disturbed my world. Now, I don’t know Wilbur Reese, but he wrote a little poem that I first heard a number of years ago and it really, sincerely disturbed my world. It’s a sarcastic poem, a tongue-in-cheek poem, a disturbing poem.

Here it is:

I would like to buy three dollars’ worth of God, please.

Not enough to explode my soul,

or disturb my sleep,

but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk, or a snooze in the sunshine.

I don’t want enough of Him to make me love a black man or pick beets with a migrant.

I want ecstasy,

not transformation.

I want the warmth of the womb,

not a new birth.

I want about a pound of the eternal

in a paper sack.

I would like to buy three dollars’ worth of God, please.

Honestly now, how much of Jesus would you like to buy? How much of Him do you want?

That’s essentially the question that Jesus had to ask those who claimed to want to follow Him. In the aftermath of Jesus’ frankly shocking teaching about His being the Bread of Life, about His being broken for the world, about the need for those who would follow Him to “eat His flesh” and “drink His blood,” the crowd is faced with a tough question. How much of Jesus did they want?

How much of Jesus do you want?

You have to ask yourself that question because following Jesus presents certain challenges, as our text will show us this morning.

I. The Challenge of Uncomfortable Truths (60-66)

The first great challenge the disciples of Jesus faced was the challenge of uncomfortable truths. Remember that the light of John 6 began wide and has grown ever more sharp and penetrating as Jesus revealed more and more about Himself. He began with literal bread, then explained that He was the bread, then revealed that His flesh was the bread, then proclaimed that His flesh would be broken, and finally announced that unless one ate His flesh and drank His blood He could not be saved.

As Jesus progressed in His teachings, the disciples’ discomfort grew more and more intense.

⁶⁰ When many of his disciples heard it, they said, “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?”

The response of the people reveals two things: (1) that Jesus teachings’ were difficult and (2) that they were so difficult they were causing the people to rethink whether or not they really wanted to follow Him.

“This is a hard saying,” they proclaim. James Montgomery Boice has helpfully explained this word:

“…Christ’s teachings were ‘hard’ to accept. The Greek word is skleros, and it clearly does not mean ‘hard to understand.’ It means ‘hard to tolerate.’ So long as Christ’s followers could not understand him, they stayed around and asked questions. It was when they did understand him that they went elsewhere. They left because what they heard was so contrary to their own views that they would not accept it.”[1]

“This is hard to tolerate,” they say, and they are right. Many of the teachings of Jesus are indeed very difficult for the natural mind to tolerate.

⁶¹ But Jesus, knowing in himself that his disciples were grumbling about this, said to them, “Do you take offense at this? ⁶²Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? ⁶³It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. ⁶⁴But there are some of you who do not believe.” (For Jesus knew from the beginning who those were who did not believe, and who it was who would betray him.) ⁶⁵And he said, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father.”

Here, Jesus explains the true source of their great discomfort.

⁶⁶ After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him.

Jesus proclaimed uncomfortable truths, difficult truths, awkward truths. Jesus did this so often that I do wonder if a man can really claim to be following Him if he has never felt himself challenged by the teachings of Jesus? And yet, many people in churches in America seem perfectly cozy with Jesus, as if they have never once felt the internal tension and outward pushing that the radical teachings of Jesus cause in the hearts of men.

My whole life I’ve heard religious people and preachers soften the sharp edges of Jesus. And, in truth, I’ve done the same at times. For instance, how easy it is to explain away or soften Christ’s teachings that we love our enemies. “Well,” we say, “I’ll love him, but I’m going to sue him for all he’s worth and destroy him.” Or, “I’ll love her, but she is going to pay me back everything she owes me, then some.”

Sometimes we soften the sharp edges of Jesus to make ourselves more comfortable. Did Jesus really say that He was the only way to the Father? Did Jesus really say that we must repent? Did Jesus really tell that wealthy young man that he had to sell all that he had and give it to the poor? On this last point, I’ve grown up hearing preachers say that, of course, that’s not literally intended for every person, and that the point is that we must be willing to rid ourselves of whatever it is that’s destroying us. True enough, as far as that goes. I agree. Jesus never told everybody to sell everything. But I sometimes wonder why He has seemingly never called any of us to sell everything since that moment? And what about me and this teaching? How convenient that I’ve never felt that call in my life. Has He called me to do that and I’m refusing, or has He called me to give up something else?

It’s a challenge isn’t it? At the very least can we agree to put back on the table at least the possibility that the hard teachings of Jesus may have been intended intentionally and literally for me?

We must let the teachings of Jesus stand. We must not remove the discomfort of His truth.

May I suggest that the reason many people in church who claim to be following Jesus don’t feel uncomfortable with Jesus’ teachings at times is because we have simply picked and chosen what portions of the teachings of Jesus we will follow? We have, in others words, removed the uncomfortable parts out of Jesus, remade Him in our own image, and then followed that image. But the problem is that whenever we seek to alter the image of Jesus we inevitably alter it into the image that we know best: our own.

Few people have said this better than Soren Kierkegaard, the great Dutch existentialist:

“What we have before us is not Christianity but a prodigious illusion, and the people are not pagans but live in the blissful conceit that they are Christians. So if in this situation Christianity is to be introduced, first of all the illusion must be disposed of. But since this vain conceit, this illusion is to the effect that they are Christians, it looks indeed as if introducing Christianity were taking Christianity away from men. Nevertheless this is the first thing to do, the illusion must go.”[2]

Yes, the illusion must go. Some people who claim to be following Jesus are actually following a Jesus that they have recast in their own image, along the lines of their own understanding, and in ways that do not offend their own sensibilities. This leads to a shocking thought: many people think they are following Jesus when, in reality, they are following themselves.

It is this misunderstanding that Jesus confronts in this poignant, tense scene. The people had to face the challenge of Jesus’ uncomfortable truths. So must we.

This raises the interesting issue of courage. Do you have enough courage to allow the teachings of Jesus to be what they are? Do you have enough courage to take Jesus for who He is and not recast Him into what you want Him to be?

II. The Challenge of Total, Intentional, Personal Commitment (67-69)

In the aftermath of this exodus of a large number of folks who were following Jesus up to this point, Jesus turns to His disciples:

⁶⁷ So Jesus said to the Twelve, “Do you want to go away as well?”

I think it matters how we read these passages. The tone in which they were spoken affects how they should be read. For my part, I find it unlikely that Jesus said this with shocked, caught-off-guard sadness: “Do you want to go away as well?” As if Jesus was now tentatively turning to His disciples, shuffling His feet, His fingers crossed behind His back, hoping that the disciples would stay.

No, I don’t think that’s the way to read it. Jesus knew that many who were following did not understand and would be offended when they began to understand. In truth, Jesus was leading to this moment. It was necessary that this line-in-the-sand moment happen with His own disciples. For the first time they are seeing the cost of discipleship. They are now understanding that Jesus isn’t a wise sage they are simply hanging out with. Rather, He’s God’s incendiary, life-changing, discomfort-bringing, salvation-granting Son, and to follow Him will change everything about their lives.

So He asks them not with hurt but with the light of further revelation in His eyes and tone: “Do you want to go away as well?” As if to say, “Do you see that what following Me is going to entail? Do you now understand that I am not like the other teachers you’ve seen. This isn’t a field trip. This isn’t vacation. It’s going to cost you to follow me. It’s going to cost you your reputation and your comfort and your old way of living. It’s going to cost you your lives. But it’s not going to cost you more than it will cost Me.”

It is a powerful, tense moment. “Do you want to go away as well?”

First of all, let me point out that Jesus would almost certainly never have been hired to teach the “Church Growth” seminar at the local Bible college or seminary. You see, we live in a church climate that holds to a “growth at all costs” model. We will do anything for a crowd. To that end we surround ourselves with gimmicks and tricks and enticements so that we will have lots of folks come to the church. We seem almost paranoid about the size of the audience, don’t we?

But Jesus seemed to think that this little thing called “truth” mattered more than the size of the crowd. In fact, Jesus challenged the crowd with offensive, uncomfortable truths, and asked them to think long and hard about what is was going to mean to follow Him.

Jesus never checked attendance records. Jesus’ own church growth record was a dismal failure by our standards. Just look at this text! Most who are following leave Him, then He gives the few who remain a way out. In the end, ten of the twelve will abandon Him on the cross, and one of the other two will help place Him there by betraying Him.

Jesus had His eyes wide open when it came to the commitment level of the majority. So He revealed Himself in truth to them and most left. Then He asks His disciples whether or not they really wanted to follow Him.

Have you ever asked yourself that question? “Do I want to go away as well? Do I really want to follow Jesus? Am I prepared for what this is going to mean for my present and my future? Am I willing to embrace what this is going to mean for the living of my life? Do I want to go away or go on with Jesus?”

This is the question Jesus puts to His disciples. What Jesus is doing is putting before them the challenge of total, intentional, personal commitment. Will the disciples commit themselves to Him totally, intentionally, personally? This is what Jesus is asking. When He does so, Simon Peter steps forward. It’s always a little unnerving when Simon Peter steps forward, isn’t it? But listen to his answer:

⁶⁸ Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, ⁶⁹and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.”

Some commentators suggest that this may be John’s telling of the scene from Matthew 16, when Peter says, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Whether this is the same scene or a different one, the substance of Peter’s response reveals their determination to press on with Jesus. They will commit totally, intentionally, and personally, though, as we know, their commitment will be severely tested and, in the main, abandoned for a time. One, as we will see, never truly bowed to Christ as Lord and will betray Him.

Even so, this powerful confession is an important example of what it means to follow Jesus, the offered, broken, saving Bread of Life. Peter asks, “Lord, to whom shall we go?”

To be a disciples is know that no matter how difficult it might be to follow Jesus at times, He is the way, the truth, and the life, and there is literally no other option for us. “Lord, to who shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.”

Peter proclaims that they have “believed, and have come to know.” We truly embrace Christ when we believe the gospel and know the gospel and plant our feet firmly in the beautiful, saving truth of the gospel.

Can you say that the horizon of your life is so dominated by the greatness and grandeur of Christ that there literally is no other option for you? Can you say that you have “believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God?”

The challenge of total, intentional, personal commitment is a powerful but important challenge. We must reach the point where we can face Jesus’ question, “Do you want to go away as well?” and say, “Lord Jesus, there is simply no other place I can go or will go because You and You alone are life and truth and salvation.”

III. The Challenge of Enduring Discipleship (70-71)

Presumably, all twelve of the disciples placed themselves under Peter’s confession by not denying it at the moment. Yet, one who allowed his name to stand under the confession truly was no disciple of Jesus. I am speaking of Judas Iscariot.

Jesus receives Peter’s confession of faith and commitment, then reveals something most disturbing:

⁷⁰ Jesus answered them, “Did I not choose you, the Twelve? And yet one of you is a devil.” ⁷¹ He spoke of Judas the son of Simon Iscariot, for he, one of the Twelve, was going to betray him.

Here is the challenge of enduring discipleship. Will those who claim to follow Jesus follow Him or abandon Him or, worse, betray Him?

The reality is that Judas’ commitment and discipleship was superficial. He never embraced Jesus as Lord. He never met the challenge of personal, intentional, total commitment. Not, I would argue, that the disciples were ever fully aware of that until Judas’ betrayal of Jesus.

I’m always amused at how some of the movie depictions of Judas present him as an almost sinister, dark, brooding character. As if Judas were perpetually lurking in the dark corners until those moments when he shuffled out, Igor-like, hunched over, dragging the money bag on the ground behind him, wild-eyed and maniacal, knuckles dragging on the ground, and slobbering out, “Yessss Master!”

No, the truth of the matter is that if Judas were a member of this church we’d likely offer him a Sunday School class or a position of leadership. Why? Because people are good at hiding weak commitment under the guise of religious verbiage. Judas sang the hymns like the rest. Judas paid attention like the rest.

The exact psychology of Judas is hard to grasp. I am attracted to the theory that Judas was following Jesus because he thought Jesus was going to lead an political insurrection against the Roman occupying forces. When that did not materialize, and when Judas realized, to his horror, that Jesus meant something very different from the normal meanings when He used words like “Kingdom” and “King,” Judas betrayed Him. He may have betrayed Jesus in an effort to try to force Jesus’ hand, to bring Him out into the open as a political revolutionary. It’s very possible, and I think that theory makes sense of the events of Judas’ last days.

Regardless, Jesus was never Lord to Judas. His discipleship was temporary and calculating. He did not endure to the end. He wanted to walk with Jesus so long as the possibility of his getting from Jesus what he wanted to get still existed. But the moment his alliance with Jesus was no longer advantageous, Judas betrayed the Lord.

The challenge of enduring discipleship confronts us with the question of whether or not Jesus is Lord of our lives, now and to the end? Will we follow Him, walk with Him, and, if need be, die with Him? Or is Jesus simply useful to us insofar as He is profitable to us?

How many set out to walk with Jesus but, in the end, like Judas, betray and abandon Him? Judas implicitly agreed with Peter’s confession by not denying it, but, as Jesus well-knew, he had no place with them.

There are those who walk beside Jesus who are not walking with Jesus. They will not endure to the end. They have no real intention of walking with Him wherever He leads, though they may have convinced themselves that they do.

Let us understand that there are challenges to walking with Jesus. Even so, the challenges do not eclipse the joy of doing so. Jesus summed up both of these realities when He said in Matthew 11:

²⁹Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Following Jesus is a yoke. It challenges our carnal minds and our flesh. But when one sees the beauty and glory and grace and wonder of Jesus, one sees that it is an easy and light and wonderful yoke indeed.

[1] James Montgomery Boice, The Gospel of John. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1999), p.530.

[2] Soren Kierkegaard. Attack Upon Christendom. (Princeton, NJ: Princeton Univesity Press, 1968), p.97.

Alister and Joanna Collicut McGrath’s The Dawkins Delusion?

Posted on June 24, 2011 by Wyman

Subtitled, Atheist Fundamentalism and the Denial of the Divine, Alister McGrath and his wife Joanna Collicut have written a real gem of a book in The Dawkins Delusion? Written primarily by Alister McGrath, one of Evanglicalism’s shining intellectual lights, this small book is a significant contribution to the Christian response to the work of famed British atheist Richard Dawkins.

It is intriguing for many reasons. I found McGrath’s revelation of the frustration that many atheist academics feel toward Dawkins and his work to be insightful and intriguing. In short, many of Dawkins’ own colleagues find the frankly unfettered hatred that Dawkins shows religion to be unnecessary and injurious to their cause. Many also seem to feel that Dawkins’ own form of atheist fundamentalism is not very thoughtful. Along these same lines, I was struck by Dawkin’s dismissal of significant scientific voices who dare to say that science, by its very nature, cannot dismiss with the possibility of God.

McGrath’s handling of the charge that religion leads men to do evil things was even-handed and thoughtful. He persuasively demonstrates the fundamental fallacies of such a notion and rightly calls Dawkins to task for such a sweeping and naive assertion.

In all, though, McGrath is strongest in his discussion of the nature of science and its limits. He did work in chemistry and molecular biophysics at Oxford and speaks with helpful insight to these questions.

If you would like a relatively brief but thought-provoking assesment of Dawkins’ main arguments and the problems inherent therein, check out McGrath’s book. It is very helpful and very well done.

Michael Coren’s Gilbert: The Man Who Was G.K. Chesterton

Posted on June 20, 2011 by Wyman

My first encounter with G.K. Chesterton created quite a problem for me. I first read him in the midst of what I can only call a myopic fascination with and nearly obsessive reading of the works of C.S. Lewis in high school and college. In fact, my initial reading of Chesterton was due to Lewis’ own frequent reference to him and, in that sense, was a kind of corollary extension of the Lewis mania of which I was a willing and joyful victim. So it was that I picked up Chesterton’s Orthodoxy, though Lewis himself seemed more fond of his The Everlasting Man.

The problem I encountered when reading Orthodoxy was that it deeply challenged my own relatively recent (at the time) conviction of the seminal supremacy of Lewis’ Mere Christianity. Clearly, I am using “problem” here with no small measure of tongue-in-cheek, but I do remember experiencing an acute kind of spiritual sensory overload upon reading Chesterton for the first time. I found myself thinking thoughts that were utterly unthinkable to me at that time. Scandalous thoughts like, “I think Orthodoxy may actually be more poignant than Mere Christianity.” Or, “I think, if I am honest with myself, that I frankly enjoy reading Chesterton more than Lewis.”

I suspect the significance of this (and, of course, it is only significant to my own journey, but it is insignificant in every other conceivable way) can only be understood if I stress how blatantly life-changing, worldview-changing, spiritually-challenging, and path-altering Mere Christianity and the Lewis canon were and are to me. I know that my experience with Lewis and his work was no greater than the myriad similar testimonies of those whose paths and thinking were altered by Lewis’ writings, but I daresay that it wasn’t less. This is, of course, another post for another day, but I will say that Lewis’ work fell on the heart and mind and eyes and ears of a young fundamentalist Baptist with as much intensity, heat, and, if you will allow it, damage as any literary bomb that ever fell on any unsuspecting soul.

When I say, then, that the thought of Chesterton being superior to Lewis was scandalous to my own mind, you must believe that I mean precisely that. It felt almost like a betrayal, except for my being assuaged by the realization that Lewis would have wholeheartedly agreed with the assessment. I should also say that though I would likely claim (I still struggle here) that Chesterton is, overall, more edifying and enjoyable to read than Lewis, I rather suspect that Lewis’ genius was more thoroughly consistent and, in a sense, more spiritually sober in terms of its overall impact. But even here I waver.

I realize that may not make sense, but I truly do not care. If George Bernard Shaw could name the tandem of G.K. Chesterton and Hilaire Belloc “The Chester-Belloc,” surely I can be allowed to express my appreciation for “The Chester-Lewis.” Certainly, in my own experience, no two writers have so affected me as these two.

Why the attraction to Chesterton? I’m always trying to flesh this out, but I think, for me, above all else, I am most deeply touched by Chesterton’s celebration of paradox, his uncanny demonstration of common sense, and his almost casual but always penetrating evaluations (and often dismissal) of philosophies and ideologies that take themselves too seriously indeed. Of course, there is also Chesterton’s deeply contagious sense of joy and wonder, his childlike perception of the sheer miracle of existence. Chesterton’s writings (and Chesterton himself) are a wonderful tonic to the malady of societal insanity to which we have all been exposed and with which, to some extent, we have all been affected.

In 2003, Roni and I traveled with one of my Doctor of Ministry seminars to England where we spent two weeks completing our course on sight at Cambridge, Oxford, and other locales. (Please note: I do not claim that I “studied at Oxford” and find that way of describing the experience misleading. I say this for personal reasons. I would just assume that my peers refrain from saying the same. We did study, and it was at the locale of Oxford and Cambridge, and it occasionally involved meetings with some of their faculty ((like Bruce Winter)), but that is all. Forgive this idiosyncratic digression, but I have my reasons.)

While on this trip, in a bookstore in Stratford, England, I picked up Michael Coren’s 1989 Gilbert: The Man Who Was G.K. Chesterton. I have only just read it on our recent trip to the 2011 gathering of the Southern Baptist Convention meeting in Phoenix, Arizona. I do suspect that Chesterton would have found that fact amusing.

The biography is a solid, often very enjoyable, occasionally mildly frustrating, and seldom uninteresting look at a man who was larger than life in many ways. Coren tells the story with aplomb, and I had difficulty putting it down.

Coren offers personal insights and evaluations that stop short of tabloid peering. He is honest about Chesterton’s weaknesses without lapsing into vitriol and charitable with Chesterton as a man without lapsing into hero-worship. In this very helpful biography, Coren situates Chesterton squarely in his own day while acknowledging his continuing impact on the many who still turn to his work.

Coren provides some fascinating insights into the story of Chesterton’s marriage to Frances, his finances, his often surreal but usually charming personal quirks, his literary output, his many significant relationships, his political views, and his spiritual journey. I was struck by the interesting dynamics between Chesterton’s friends and the influence of his wife (which, in some ways, mirrored the reaction of C.S. Lewis’ friends to his wife, Joy.)

I do wish he would have spent a bit more time exploring the reactions and receptions of some of Chesterton’s major works, particularly Orthodoxy and The Everlasting Man, but it is likely difficult to keep a biography at a managable length if one comments to any significant degree on such a prodigious literary output.

In all, Coren’s biography is helpful, substantive, balanced, and informative. I certainly do feel that I have an overall better grasp of GKC the man than I did before reading the biography.

I do think everybody should have some acquaintance with Chesterton. He is, regrettably, not to everybody’s taste. (One of my dearest friends found Orthodoxy virtually unreadable! Though I can’t conceive of how such a thing is possible, it apparently is.) Others, particularly Baptist readers, may find Chesterton’s Catholicism difficult to handle. I, for one, never fail to learn from Chesterton, even when I disagree with this or that position he might hold.

This is a really good biography of a really great man.

Reflections on the Grand Canyon

Posted on June 20, 2011 by Wyman

It probably breaches the banks of foolishness to articulate thoughts on a geological feature upon which more ink, paint, verbage, descriptive force, film, and eloquence have likely been spilt and offered than upon any other such feature in the United States. But fools rush in where angels fear to tread, especially when fools get to see something likely as beautiful as what angels normally see. That’s hyperbole, of course, but not by much.

Last week my wife and I spent a few days at the south rim of the Grand Canyon in northern Arizona. We remarked to one another, upon paying the entry fee at the gates to the national park, that we were both positively nervous and jittery about finally getting to see that which all Americans have heard of and many Americans have beheld. But neither of us had seen it.

So it was with bated breath that we drove into the park straining here and there to finally catch a glimpse of something that only hyper-anticipation could render elusive in those maddening moments when one is near but not quite there.

We finally saw it (or, more properly, that little bit of it that one can see at any given moment) when approaching the Bright Angel trailhead. There it was, stretched out before us, a staggeringly beautiful and suddenly breathtaking Canyon of such imminent and terrifying grandeur that it quite literally stops one in one’s tracks.

The Irish Christians spoke of “thin places,” places in which the barrier between this world and the next seems so thin as to be almost transparent. I know not what the acceptable parameters for “thin places” are, but, if the Grand Canyon’s sheer size disqualifies it then we’ll simply have to come up with a new phrase.

Indeed, the barrier between this world and the next did feel transparent here. We were both amazed at the amazingly level geological strata transparent in the canyon, the imposing formidability of the sheer rock walls, the kaleidoscopic and undulating terrain, marked here and there by gorches, gulches, valleys, crevices, and chasms through the canyon floor, and the nearly palpable sense of enormity that overwhelmed us when standing on the edge.

It is an emotional and spiritual experience, and the frustration of trying to capture that sense in words is very real indeed. I felt, when standing there, and as we began our descent, a kind of convulsive collision between my own insignificance and the canyon’s own grandeur. I am not thinking here of theological correctness, only of the impulse of the moment. One feels small at the canyon, even when one knows that such was given to man by God.

There is a yawning, gaping, primal energy at the Grand Canyon, as if the earth itself has strained wide it’s terrestial Goliath mouth in preparation of swallowing the sky. And we ant-like mortals do what our more preservationist bones whisper to us not to do: we walk into this abyss.

You descend into the canyon on snaking, tendrilesque trails of white earth which turn burnt-orange a mile or so in. The top-most trails are vertigo-inducing strings of path that hug the rock wall on the left and drop to certain death in chasmic void to the right. It really is quite disorienting at first, and the safety of the rock wall does not offer much solace in the face of the attractive pull of the canyon itself.

It is bewilderingly intoxicating in that the feel and sound and smell and, above all, the sight of the canyon surrounds you and compels you as you move down. It is a deliciously dangerous feeling though, of course, the trail is wide enough not to be truly so.

Down, down, down you go around this bend and the next. Odd little squirrels with funny, patchy coats of fur scamper by you, oblivious of your existence, searching for another patch of cool shadow on which they cool their bellies, legs and arms splayed out on the cooler earth, hiding from the sun.

Even downhill is tiring in its way, not least of all because of the jamming of the toes into the front of your shoes (some websites encourage you to cut your toenails very short before attempting the descent), but moreso because of the strange surreality of the surrounding environment and the ever-present conscientous effort not to get to close to the edge. But it is a glorious exhaustion. Roni and I both, I think, felt a wonderful since of privilege at being able to walk into this ancient dream world of colors, sights, and sounds.

The ascent back to the top is gruelling because it is so unrelentingly steep. The change in weather becomes noticeable as well: hotter the lower you go, cooler the higher. Of course, near the top, the trail seems more imposing because you become more aware of its height.

We finally made it out of the Grand Canyon with a delightful and tired sense of joyful defeat. It had won. It cannot be grasped, conquered, taken in or taken over. It is grand in a way that defies any sense of human mastery over it. It is, quite simply, astounding.

The IMAX film we watched at the National Geographic visitor’s center the night before we entered the park informed us that one might sense a vague and distant feeling of the divine at the Grand Canyon. I expect nothing less, of course, from National Geographic (an organization wondrously more adept at natural observation than theological observation), but let me protest nontheless.

What I felt at the Grand Canyon was not a vague and distant sense of the divine, but an overwhelmingly clear impression of the grandeur of the Father of Jesus Christ. I could hear the words of God to Job at the end of that great book, challenging Job to say whether or not he, Job, could grasp the majesty of the created order in the way that God not only grasps it but subdues it, being its Creator. I could hear Paul’s words in the beginning of Romans speaking of the capacity and ability of nature to at least express the truth of God’s power and might to all who would look and see.

The Grand Canyon is “grand” precisely because it speaks of a grand and glorious God. That which we gawked at in dumbstruck amazement was nothing more than a mere deliberate scratch in the sand of His own creation by the smallest finger of our great God.

The canyon is not grand to God, but insofar as it draws men’s hearts Godward by the sheer reflective power of its own borrowed beauty, it does deserve the title.

John 6:41-59

Posted on June 19, 2011 by Wyman

John 6:41-59

⁴¹So the Jews grumbled about him, because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” ⁴²They said, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How does he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” ⁴³Jesus answered them, “Do not grumble among yourselves. ⁴⁴No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. And I will raise him up on the last day. ⁴⁵It is written in the Prophets, ‘And they will all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me— ⁴⁶ not that anyone has seen the Father except he who is from God; he has seen the Father. ⁴⁷Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life. ⁴⁸ I am the bread of life. ⁴⁹Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. ⁵⁰ This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. ⁵¹I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” ⁵²The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” ⁵³So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. ⁵⁴Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. ⁵⁵For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. ⁵⁶Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. ⁵⁷As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. ⁵⁸ This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.” ⁵⁹Jesus said these things in the synagogue, as he taught at Capernaum.

The 1967 film, “Cool Hand Luke” is, hands down, one of the coolest movies ever made. It starred Paul Newman at his absolute…well…coolest!

Newman plays Luke, a petty criminal sentenced to do hard time in a dreary detention center in the deep South. Pretty soon, Luke earns the nickname “Cool Hand Luke” after prisoners observe what a “cool hand” he is.

Luke is smooth, charming, and determined to survive. The movie chronicles his fascinating journey of survival and his attempts to escape from the hard time and ruthless guards at the labor camp.

Because of his exploits, determination, and resolve, Luke soon wins the admiration and respect of the other prisoners. They begin to see him as a kind of leader, their leader in fact.

There is a particularly poignant scene in the movie in which Luke has been captured after escaping the prison camp yet again. After being brought back to the camp, Luke has two sets of chains placed on his feet. He is beaten, exhausted and defeated. His nearly lifeless body is drug back into the bunks where he is surrounded by his fellow prisoners. The prisoners idolize Luke and refuse to believe that he has been beaten, that his spirit has been broken. They begin to press him on the glories of his escape, on his exploits while he was away, and on the strength of his spirit. In other words, they want the old Cool Hand Luke back and refuse to believe that he has been beaten.

At this, Luke, weary, dirty, filthy, defeated, and drained of all energy, looks up at the men around him, the men who admire him, the men who refuse to believe that their hero has been defeated. As he looks at them, his face fills with exasperation and rage and he screams at the men surrounding him: “Stop feeding off me!”

It is a powerful moment. “Stop feeding off me!”

It is Luke’s plea for the men to stop living through him. It is Luke’s revelation to the men that he isn’t as strong as they think he is, that he cannot be for them all that they need for him to be. It is Luke’s heart-broken cry of his own limitations. In screaming at them, he is telling them that he cannot supply them with their needs, that he cannot be their source of hope.

“Stop feeding off me!” Luke screams. “Stop feeding off me!”

On the other hand, Jesus says, “I am the bread of life. Feed off of me.”

Jesus stands before the people and says the exact opposite of what Luke says. Jesus says, “I am the bread of life.” Jesus said that the people could draw their strength and hope and vitality and nourishment and courage and resolve from Him forever.

Cool Hand Luke said, “Stop!”

Jesus says, “Come!”

The people wanted Cool Hand Luke to be all of this for them, but he couldn’t.

The people did not want Jesus to be this for them, but He could.

Luke could not be the nourishment the prisoners needed to survive.

But Jesus can.

Jesus is the bread of life.

We’ve been looking at this reality for two weeks now. First, we saw Jesus’ miraculous provision of bread for the hungry people. Then we saw Jesus correct the mistaken assumptions of those who received this bread. Now Jesus sharpens the focus even more. Here, He draws the people into even deeper realities of His own person and presence. And what Jesus said about the bread of life – about Himself – was staggering indeed!

The Bread of Life is a Gift From God

Our text this morning reflects a growing tension between Jesus and “the Jews.” At the center of this tension and conflict is the inability and refusal of the Jews to see and hear and understand what Jesus is saying. So our text begins this morning with their displeasure at Jesus:

⁴¹ So the Jews grumbled about him, because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.”

This word “grumbled” is significant because it is the same word used to describe what the children of Israel were doing to Moses in the exodus. They “grumbled” against Moses. They “grumbled” against Jesus. The use of this word at this point further demonstrates the powerful link between John 6 and the events of the Passover and Exodus. Furthermore, we find their grumbling bolstered by their mistaken assumption that they themselves knew the true identity of Jesus:

⁴² They said, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How does he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?”

Of course, there is irony here. The Jews reject Jesus because they claim to know Jesus’ earthly father, but in reality they are rejecting Him because they don’t know His Heavenly Father. They claim to know His father at the exact time that He’s trying to introduce them to His Father!

So Jesus moves to the very heart of their rejection of Him. Their minds are carnal.

⁴³ Jesus answered them, “Do not grumble among yourselves. ⁴⁴ No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. And I will raise him up on the last day.

Here we find one of the great, controversial texts of the New Testament. I would say that it is not inherently controversial. It is controversial only because our own minds do not natively love and relish the truths of God and because we demand systemization where the Bible defies it.

First of all, let us remember the context of this passage. Jesus is trying to reveal Himself and the people will not receive Him. The reason they will not receive Him is because their minds and carnal and they will not come to God.

In this context, Jesus speaks of the drawing power of God unto salvation. “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. And I will raise him up on the last day.”

This verse is controversial because it sits squarely in the middle of modern debates surrounding predestination, election, the sovereignty of God, and the responsibility of man.

While I do not want to miss the main emphasis of this text (i.e., Jesus’ revelation of Himself as the Bread of Heaven) in this one verse, let us take a moment and consider its meaning.

To begin, let us all agree that we must take any passage for what it says and not for what we want it to say. Jesus says, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. And I will raise him up on the last day.” So the verse means precisely that.

Some people say, “Yes, this is true, but then God is drawing the whole world to Jesus.” But this does not work at all, for those whom the Father “draws” to Jesus, Jesus definitely raises up on the last day. In other words, those who are “drawn” will be “raised.” This is a drawing unto salvation, not a general desire for people to know Christ. If, then, you claim that God is drawing every person, then you must believe that everybody will be saved since those who are drawn will be raised. You cannot say, in other words, that God draws all but Jesus only raises some (i.e., those who trust in Him). No, all who are drawn are raised, so if all are drawn all will be raised.

This is called “universalism,” the idea that all will be saved. But the New Testament clearly does not teach that all will be saved. If not all are raised then not all are drawn.

Furthermore, there is a simple biblical truth in these words: no heart and no mind can embrace Christ and His gospel unless and until God has opened that heart and mind to the things of God. We are lost, condemned people outside of Christ and we need our hearts softened and our eyes and ears opened so that we might see and hear and know and trust Christ. This is why Jesus goes on to say:

⁴⁵ It is written in the Prophets, ‘And they will all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me— ⁴⁶ not that anyone has seen the Father except he who is from God; he has seen the Father.

This is the plain meaning of the text and I would propose that we embrace this plain meaning. Jesus says that nobody can come to Him unless the Father draws Him and that all whom the Father draws to the Son will be raised.

The doctrine of election is quite clear in this regard. This Bible says this and we should not shrink from it.

The Bible exalts the sovereignty of God in salvation. But the Bible also teaches the responsibility of man to respond to the gospel, to repent and to believe. This is likewise very important. In fact, in verse 47 Jesus turns to the responsibility of man to believe: “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life.”

So here we have two biblical ideas: God’s drawing and man’s believing, divine sovereignty and human responsibility.

The problem comes when people try to push one truth to the exclusion and informing power of the other. There are those who speak of God’s drawing but never of man’s need to repent and genuinely believe. There are those who speak of man’s responsibility but never of God’s sovereign election in salvation.

Whole systems have been built up around these two realities and intense theological battle lines have been drawn around them. And this is understandable, for, on the surface of things, these two truths seem incompatible: God’s sovereign election and drawing in salvation and man’s responsibility in responding. If, after all, God is drawing, in what meaningful sense is man genuinely responsible? If, on the other hand, man is genuinely responsible to respond, in what sense is God drawing?

May I make a proposal that some of you will find unsatisfying but that others of you will likely find liberating? May I suggest that the New Testament teaches both realities in such a way that neither can be denied. May I further suggest that this tension between the sovereignty of God and the responsibility of man is even necessary if God is God and we are fallen man? May I suggest that it is only our innate desire to master the mysteries of God that makes us unable to live with and relish the beauty and tension of these mysteries?

I am not trying to take a middle road because I find it easy. I am trying to take a middle road because I find both of these beautiful truths taught in scripture. God is sovereign to save and draws those He will. Man is responsible to respond and must embrace the cross of Christ.

For instance, have you ever noticed that the last phrase of verse 44 shows up again ten verses later?

⁵⁴Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.

Do you see the verbal connection between the two?

⁴⁴ No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him. And I will raise him up on the last day.

⁵⁴ Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.

Here again we see two sides of one beautiful truth. “No one can come to me unless…” and “Whoever feeds….and drinks…”

Let us keep the mystery and beauty of these truths without distorting one to the exclusion of the other, for, when we do so, we do violence to the Word of God.

I agree with New Testament scholar D.A. Carson when he writes:

“Yet despite the strong predestinarian strain, it must be insisted with no less vigor that John emphasizes the responsibility of people to come to Jesus, and can excoriate them for refusing to do so.”[1]

I agree with Gerald Borchert when he writes:

“Salvation is never achieved apart from the drawing power of God, and it is never consummated apart from the willingness of humans to hear and learn from God. To choose one or the other will ultimately end in unbalanced, unbiblical theology. Such a solution will generally not please either doctrinaire Calvinists or Arminians, both of whom will seek to emphasize certain words or texts and exclude from consideration other texts and words. But my sense of the biblical materials is that in spite of all our arguments to the contrary, the tension cannot finally be resolved by our theological gymnastics. Rather than resolving the tension, the best resolution is learning to live with the tension and accepting and those whose theological commitments differ from ours.”[2]

I agree with the Dutch Reformed New Testament scholar Herman Ridderbos when he writes:

“No attempt is made to explain faith’s involvement in the vivifying power of God. The Bible speaks in two ways about a reality that as a miracle from God is not transparent to the intellect but to which the gospel seeks to open the eyes and hearts of people.”[3]

I agree with Andreas Kostenberger when he writes that “the reference to the Father ‘drawing’ is balanced by people ‘coming’ to Jesus.”[4]

We need both of these truths. God is not passive in salvation and man is no mere puppet.

Both of these truths are taught in scripture and both are present in Jesus’ discourse with the Jews.

We reject because we want to reject. We come because God is gracious to draw.

Divine sovereignty and human responsibility are both taught in the Bible and are both needed for a healthy theology. They form different sides to the prism of the whole counsel of God’s Word. One holds up the prism and turns it this way and that. At this angle, the one truth is emphasized: “Come unto Me!” At that angle, the other truth is emphasized: “Drawn by the Father!”

Spurgeon likened it to walking through a door. On the front of the door post are the words, “Whosoever will may come.” But when you pass through and look at the other side you find these words, “Chosen before the foundation of the world.”

What this means about Jesus, the Bread of Life, is that the Bread of Life is a gift from God. He is loving and compassionate to offer it to us and draw us to Him. The Bread cannot be seized by greedy hands, but it can be received in hands of repentance.

The point of the passage isn’t our silly controversies over Calvinism and Arminianism. The point of God’s drawing power is the glory and sovereignty of God in Christ and the wonderful gift of salvation.

The Bread of Life is Eternal and Unending

The Bread is a gift, but it is not merely a gift. The Bread of Life, Jesus, is an eternal, unending, all-satisfying gift.

⁴⁷ Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes has eternal life. ⁴⁸ I am the bread of life.

How do you embrace eternal life? You believe. “Whoever believes has eternal life.”

“Belief,” here, is not mere mental assent. Salvation is not a matter of, “Eh, ok, I believe that.” “Belief” in the New Testament is a matter of whole-hearted acceptance, a complete embrace of a complete truth with broken heart and conviction of mind.

Do you want this Bread, this eternal Bread of God? Then believe! Then call out to Jesus! Call out to Jesus and live!

This bread is different from the bread their fathers ate in the wilderness, the bread they are asking Jesus to provide:

⁴⁹ Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died.

Yes, it is very different. The bread the people want, the bread for which they are clamoring will not save them. They will eat it, it will satisfy them for a moment, but it cannot overcome death.

But Jesus, the Bread of Life, can overcome death. He is a different kind of bread because of who He is and where He comes from:

⁵⁰ This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. ⁵¹ I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever.

Ah! Jesus, the eternal, life-giving Bread of Heaven, takes root in those who partake of Him and gives eternal life. Normal bread is digested and expelled. The Bread of Life takes root in the human heart and transforms the life of the one who eats from the inside out. It is living bread.

I always love when Dale Prater shows up at the office with a cardboard box. Dale, of course, has a partnership with Panera Bread and he gets bread from them daily to give to those who need it. Every so often he will swing by the office and ask the staff if any of us would like a loaf of bread or a pastry.

Dale Prater is the Santa Claus of the office! We love it and we feel nothing but gratitude. But the bread in that box, as amazing as it is, doesn’t last forever. In fact, no sooner is Dale out the door that I’m thinking, “I do hope Dale comes back again!” Why? Because the bread he brings, while delicious, does not last forever.

The bread we want is bread that does not last.

But Christ lasts. Jesus, the Bread of Life, is living bread. He nourishes and He sustains. He truly lasts forever, as do all who partake of Him.

The Bread of Life is Broken for Us

The bread is a gift. The bread is eternal. But now Jesus move to the most shocking characteristic, one that stands at the very center of our faith and one which Jesus now begins to reveal to the already scandalized Jews: the Bread of Life is broken.

Again, we see the spotlight on Jesus increasingly narrowing in this 6th chapter. It began broad and wide in the miraculous provision of literal bread. Then it began to narrow as Jesus revealed that the bread was a symbol of His own self, that He, Jesus, was the bread of life. Now the spotlight narrows with increased rapidity, intensity, and clarity as Jesus reveals two more realities about the Bread of Life.

“And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

Utterly astounding! Yes, Jesus Himself is the bread, but, in a special sense, His flesh is the bread. The blindness of his audience now mingles with outrage:

⁵² The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”

Again, their over-literalized mindset cannot fathom the divine truth of what the Lord is saying here. They are blind, deaf, and dumb to the gospel. But Jesus does not tone down the blunt shock of his teachings:

⁵³ So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.

“What can this mean?” the Jews must have asked themselves. It means nothing less than that Jesus, the bread of Life, will be broken, torn asunder, killed, crucified, and murdered. The bread that is His flesh will not remain a whole loaf. No! The hands of men will take this Bread of Life and hate it. They will hate it because they prefer only the temporary bread of the earth. They will hate it because the bread of Jesus will threaten to undo, to change, and to redo all that they are.

So angry men will take the Bread of Life and rip it apart. But in doing so they will be furthering, not hindering, the plan of God. For bread must be broken to be given, and it is through this breaking of Christ on the cross that God has willed to give Him to the world.

When we come to Christ crucified, Christ offered to the World, Christ given, Christ broken, we live! To eat His flesh and drink His blood is to believe and trust and embrace Him in faith. And in believing and receiving, we live!

This is the will of the Father, that we would partake of Christ through faith and live.

⁵⁴ Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.

Again, we see here divine sovereignty (“No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws Him.”) and human responsibility (“Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life…”). But note the beautiful end: the one who is drawn and the whoever that comes to the broken, offered Bread of Life will be raised by Christ on the last day.

If you will take this crucified Jesus, you….will…live! Why?

⁵⁵ For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. ⁵⁶ Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. ⁵⁷ As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. ⁵⁸ This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.” ⁵⁹ Jesus said these things in the synagogue, as he taught at Capernaum.

So it is through our consumption through faith of the Bread of Life, which is Jesus, that we are given life from the living God who gives us Jesus.

Jesus, then, is God’s offering to starving humanity so that all who come to Him might live and never die. He is a broken offering, a crucified offering. We eat of eternal bread when we trust in this crucified Jesus.

What a heart breaking thing it is when a man rejects this eternal bread.

Just a couple of days ago Roni and I were hiking in the Grand Canyon. We had never been there before. It is, in a word, astounding! It is also a bit intimidating hiking some of those trails. It’s intimidating not only because of the sheer drop off the edge of the path in certain sections of the trail, but maybe more so because ever in your peripheral vision, if not your direct vision, is the overwhelming grandeur of the Grand Canyon itself.

I don’t know if I can explain this, but it is a strange and somehow dizzying sensation walking that closely to such an amazing, jaw-dropping Canyon. It’s always right there. Even when you try to look only at the path in front of your own feet, you still see and sense and feel this indescribable, beautiful, and slightly frightening Canyon all around you. It can create a weird kind of attraction, or pull, or draw as you try to walk that can throw your equilibrium off.

In fact, when Roni and I were hiking back up the portion of the trail we hiked, as we neared the highest, steepest, and most dizzying aspects of the path, a group of three young people passed us. I noticed that the young man in the group was holding a baseball hat up to the left side of his face. The rock wall was on his right and the Grand Canyon stretched out to his left. I asked him if he was ok. He said he was fine but that he got dizzy when he saw the Grand Canyon below him. So he shielded his eyes so as not to be able to see. In this way, by blotting out the sight of the Canyon below, he could continue on his path unobstructed.

It was an interesting moment. This young man believed that so long as he didn’t look at the Canyon he would not feel its drawing, dizzying power.

We do the same with Christ, don’t we? Some of you may be doing this this very morning. You know that the grand Savior is beside you. You feel Him and sense Him and can even detect His drawing, dizzying power. You know that He is too awesome to be ignored, yet you are trying to blot out any vision of Him that might distract you from your path. So you hold before your eyes petty things that yet have the power to obscure His presence: jobs and hobbies and families and relationships and pleasures and wishes and wants.

But you still feel Him. You still know He is there.

Friends, do not shield your eyes from the grand Savior any more. Drop your shield and fall headlong into His grace. There are open arms there and a loving Savior. The enormity of Christ is terrifying to a lost soul but comforting to those who know Him. His presence is dizzying and disorienting to those who want to stay on their own little path. To those who embrace Him, however, His path becomes their path.

He is the Savior.

He is the Bread of Life.

Church! Visitors! Families! Friends! There is bread at the cross for you! Living bread, offered bread, broken bread, sacrificed bread, crucified bread, God-sent bread, incarnate bread, resurrected bread, alive-again bread, Kingdom bread, Hell-destroying, soul-redeeming, life-preserving, glory-securing, Satan-destroying, joy-producing, faith-confirming, eternal, immutable, beautiful, glorious, majestic Bread here, in this Jesus, for you, now….right now!

Come and taste and live.

[1] D.A. Carson, The Gospel According to John. The Pillar New Testament Commentary. Gen. ed., D.A. Carson (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1991), p.293.

[2] Gerald L. Borchert, John 1-11. The New American Commentary, vol.25A. Gen. ed., E. Ray Clendenen (Nashville, TN: Broadman and Holman Publishers, 1996), p.268-269.

[3] Herman Ridderbos, The Gospel of John.(Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1992), p.234.

[4] Andreas J. Kostenberger, John. Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2004), p.213.

Walking Together Ministries

A Resource for the Pilgrim Church