Word on Wednesday with John Mason

Jesus fulfills prophecy and his own words to his disciples. On the third day after his brutal death, his tomb is empty. Listen to the conversation of two people on the road to Emmaus.

Easter Day that we celebrate this Sunday is a gala day as we remember Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. His resurrection underscores the validity of the Christian faith. Without it, we are lost. That said, our joy with Jesus’ resurrection raises interesting questions: Why isn’t an empty tomb the symbol of Christianity? Why is the symbol a cross? In today’s age when feelings and political correctness trump facts it would surely make much more sense if we focused on the themes of the new life and hope that the resurrection symbolizes. Yet despite the fact that Jesus’ crucifixion was a bloody and brutal affair, the cross remains the symbol of the Christian faith. In the opening scene of Luke’s ‘resurrection chapter’ we read: But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body (Luke 24:1-3). Despair. There was no joy in the hearts of those women that morning. They had watched Jesus die and now were grief-stricken and despairing. They had believed that he was God’s Messiah and were looking forward to a new age of justice and peace, of laughter, love and joy. Now, their only thought was to give his body a proper burial. We can picture them trudging to the tomb in the grey light of the dawn, burdened by their own thoughts and laden with heavy jars of oils and spices for the burial. But that was not all. When they arrived at the grave, they saw that the huge stone closing the tomb had been rolled away. Was this some underhand action on the part of the authorities? While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them… (24:4). They had despaired at Jesus’ death and now were terrified: they could only bow their faces to the ground at the dazzling appearance of two angels. And when the angels spoke, the women were even more confused: “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.” ‘You’ve come to the wrong place.’ Remember! “Remember how he told you while he was still with you in Galilee: ‘the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise again…’” (Luke 24:6b-7a). The angels could have explained the empty tomb. Instead, they told the women to remember what Jesus had said to them. The focus of Jesus’ words they quoted is important: ‘The Son of Man, the Messiah, had to suffer and die and then rise again’. Suffering and death were essential to the first coming of God’s king. Which brings us back to the subject of the cross. Richard Dawkins and others reckon that to say, ‘Jesus died for our sins’ is vicious and disgusting. ‘Why couldn’t God simply forgive sins if he so chose?’ Dawkins asks. In every age Jesus’ death has been an enigma – even for his first followers. Yet during the course of his ministry, he had foreshadowed both his death and his resurrection. Indeed, in his public ministry he revealed that he had not come as a political Messiah to bring in God’s kingdom through force. Rather, he came as a savior to address our greatest need – our broken relationship with God. Only Jesus Christ, the man from heaven, could deliver us from God’s just judgement and open the doors of hope for the future. This theme infuses Luke’s gospel. At Jesus’ birth the angel announced that God’s savior had been born. And when he met with Zacchaeus, Jesus summed up his ministry saying, “The Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19:10). Furthermore, his words at the Last Supper are key to the meaning of his death: “This is my body given for you…” “This is my blood shed for you…” These words are amongst the oldest statements of the New Testament. We find them in First Corinthians, chapter 11, written around 50AD, as well as in Matthew, Mark and Luke, which were written no later than the 60s. In fact when we read Luke as a whole we come to see that Jesus’ death is about God’s love and justice – central aspects of His character. Some say that Jesus’ crucifixion was a form of child abuse – a father punishing a son for someone else’s wrongs. But we need to remember Jesus’ words in John chapter 10 verse 11, where he said he would lay down his life voluntarily. The movement of the Bible tells us that without the shedding of blood there can be no forgiveness of sins (Levitcus 17:11; Hebrews 9:22). God, the wronged party, in his extraordinary love, came amongst us in person and bore the punishment we deserve. God as the judge, paid in full, once and for all time, the penalty owed by us, the accused who have been found guilty of dishonoring the name of God. When we understand this, Jesus’ words at his Last Supper: “My body given for you,” and “My blood shed for you”, we begin to see why the cross, once an instrument of Roman brutality, became, and remains today, the symbol of God’s extraordinary love for the world. The cross is not a charm

Why is the cross, the tool of Roman torture and brutality, the symbol of Christianity?

Royal events attract the attention of millions around the world. It is estimated some 4 billion people watched the funeral of her late Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II – more than twice the population of the world when she was born. How different was another royal occasion, when Jesus rode into Jerusalem to the acclamation of the crowds calling on him as God’s King. A King’s Welcome. The Gospels tell us that Jesus deliberately set the scene for his entry into Jerusalem that day. Riding into the city on the back of the foal of a donkey, he was fulfilling a prophecy about the Messiah made by Zechariah some 500 years before (Zechariah 9:9). When Jesus prepared to ride the donkey, the disciples threw their cloaks on its back, and Luke records that as Jesus rode down from the Mount of Olives people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. His entry into Jerusalem had the hallmarks of a king entering his city (Luke 19:35f). Indeed, Luke along with other Gospel writers wants us to feel just how much of a royal procession it was: As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!…” (Luke 19:37f). The crowds were singing one of the festival psalms for the Passover Feast (Psalm 118:26). It’s a song of victory, a hymn of praise to the one God who never loses his battles and establishes his kingdom. Peace was another theme: “…Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” they sang. Peace was the angels’ song at the announcement of Jesus’ birth. Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people… the angels had sung (Luke 2:12). However, there was an irony here that the crowds in their enthusiasm seemed to have missed: this king was not riding a warrior horse. It was no royal or presidential motorcade with an armed security. And there is another element to that first Palm Sunday which Luke records: As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, “If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. Indeed, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side. … because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God” (Luke 19:41-44). As Jesus came over the top of the Mount of Olives and saw the city, it is clear that uppermost in his thoughts were his suffering and the destruction of nation’s capital, David’s royal city. Yes, he was the king coming ‘in the name of the Lord’ as the people sang. But he knew he was not coming to take up David’s throne at that time as everyone expected. Rather, he foresaw the city of Jerusalem – a smoking, desolate ruin. Why would this happen? Because Jerusalem failed to recognize the One who had visited it. On that first Palm Sunday there were joy, acclamation, and tears. Yet, five days later the unthinkable occurred: Jesus was put to death by crucifixion. The contrast between the first Palm Sunday when crowds acclaimed Jesus as king and the day he was strung up on a cross, could not have been more stark. One day the crowds were saying he was God’s promised king; within a week the dying Jesus was exposed to the vulgar frivolity of the Roman soldiers as they offered him wine and made a party of it. “If you are the king of the Jews,” they mocked, “save yourself” (Luke 23:37). The events of that Thursday evening and Friday had moved swiftly. Jesus had been betrayed, arrested, brought to trial before the Jewish religious leaders, before Herod, and before Pilate. Herod and Pilate had declared him innocent of the charges against him. But the Jewish leaders were adamant he should be put to death. And when Jesus was nailed to the cross, Pilate the Roman governor in Judea had ordered, as was the custom, that the charge against Jesus be nailed above his head – ‘King of the Jews.’ With Jesus’ resurrection and his conquest of death, Pilate’s notice was prophetic. Why then did Jesus die? Jesus himself answers the question. In Luke chapter 19, verse 10 he says, “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost”. The whole of the New Testament and the voice of the Holy Spirit in our hearts tells us why: he died for you and for me. As we read in Romans chapter 5, verse 8 the punishment for our sin was laid on him. Indeed, when he was dying, he prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). Everyone watching the scene that day knew he was innocent. The them he was praying for are all who shut their minds to the voice of truth, the voice of the Spirit, and the testimony of their conscience. He was praying for the Roman soldiers and the Jewish leaders; he was praying for the crowd and his followers. But he was also praying then for you and me, for none of us has perfectly honored him as we should. And isn’t

Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a colt, the foal of an ass, fulfilling Zechariah's prophecy. But can he be God's King, entering the city in this way? And how can it be that God's King is put to death so brutally?

The subject of death is not something we usually discuss. It’s too personal and confronting. Yet it’s the ultimate certainty we all face. It’s why literature, film and philosophy so often dwell on the themes of our mortality. But it’s rare that anyone claims they can do anything about it. Death is assumed to be the inevitable end for everyone. In John chapter 10 we learn that life had been heating up for Jesus in Jerusalem. The Jewish leaders had attempted to stone him for his apparent blasphemy (10:31). So Jesus left the city for the region east of the Jordan River. There he learned that his friend Lazarus, brother of Martha and Mary, was dying in the village of Bethany, near Jerusalem. Then learning that Lazarus had died, and against the advice of his disciples who feared the Jewish leaders, Jesus returned to Bethany where he was first met by Martha. In the course of their conversation where she said to Jesus that if he had come sooner her brother would not have died, he made an amazing assertion: “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” His words are astonishing, for in saying, “I am the resurrection and the life…” Jesus wasn’t saying, ‘I promise resurrection and life’. Nor was he saying, ‘I procure,’ or, ‘I bring’ but ‘I am the resurrection and the life.’ Furthermore, in saying ‘I am’ he uses the very words God used when he disclosed his name to Moses. Unless Jesus is equal with God his words are nothing short of blasphemy. “I am the resurrection and the life…” he says. “Do you believe this?” he asked Martha. John records that Jesus then met Martha’s sister, Mary who fell at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Once again Jesus was rebuked for not having come sooner. But unlike Martha Mary allows her grief to flow. John tells us then that Martha and Mary weren’t the only ones to grieve: Jesus wept (11:35). These words constitute the shortest verse in the Bible. How poignant, how stark it is. The word wept that John uses speaks of a deep anguished cry of grief. It’s the cry of heartfelt loss, the kind of grief that explodes from the depths of our inner being. Why did Jesus react this way? He didn’t weep like this when news came that Jairus’s daughter had died. Certainly Lazarus was a close friend but Jesus knew he was going to pull him out of that tomb. Jesus wept. I suggest he was grieving for our human plight. No matter how successful we are, how good and compassionate we are, death awaits us all. Men and women, created in God’s image, are now broken images and broken images cannot endure the pure light of God’s perfection and glory. Jesus was grieving for what we as men and women had lost. As in Adam all die, Paul the Apostle writes in First Corinthians chapter 15. At Lazarus’s graveside, Jesus felt the full impact of this and wept. But there is a sense in which Jesus grieved at what our loss would mean for him. It would mean that he himself would have to die. Only through his death could he conquer death and raise to life anyone who turns to him and believes in him. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive (1 Cor. 15:22). Could it be true? The witness of Jesus’ own resurrection, the New Testament, the evidence of history, the existence of the Christian church, point to the conclusion that Jesus’ words were the truth. Apart from Jesus Christ we have no certainty about the future. And if there is a future life, how can we be assured that we are good enough to achieve it? Most people are aware of their failures – failures that we don’t want to talk about, let alone tell anyone about. It’s one of the reasons John Newton’s Amazing Grace is so well known: it speaks to our sense of lostness, our need to be rescued and our hope for the future. John’s record doesn’t stop with Jesus’ words to Martha and Mary. He went to the tomb and asked that the stone be rolled away. We can only imagine the scene. A graveyard, a cave in a hillside, filled with bodies and bones. The stench of rotting bodies as the gravestone was rolled aside. And then, standing at the entrance of the tomb, Jesus called, “Lazarus, come out!” For a moment everyone must have thought he was mad. But then, a sight to behold emerged: still in his grave clothes Lazarus appeared. Voices around us today insist that because we now know the laws of nature we can be sure that miracles like this can’t happen. To which Dr. John Lennox, emeritus professor of mathematics and philosophy at Oxford University, responds, ‘The laws of nature that science observes are the observable regularities that God the creator has built into the universe. However, such ‘laws’ don’t prevent God from intervening if he chooses. When he does, we are able to identify the irregularity and speak of it as ‘a miracle’’. Men and women have come a long way in understanding and harnessing quantum chemistry, physi

In our troubled world many long for the days of the great revivals – perhaps the days of the Wesleys and George Whitfield in England and in the US, or the years of Billy Graham, or the days of great revival in East Africa. Let me suggest we shouldn’t be discouraged. Jesus himself began with a small group of men and women and look what happened: by the 4th century AD the influence of God’s gospel had had spread throughout the Roman Empire. This hadn’t happened through armed conflict but through the work of God’s Word and God’s Spirit. Come with me to the events that unfold in John chapter 9 – a chapter that reads like a drama in three Acts. Act 1. As Jesus passed by, he saw a man blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’ Jesus answered, ‘It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be made manifest in him. We must work the works of him who sent me’ (9:1-4a). A blind man begging on the side of the road was a familiar sight. But this man hadn’t contracted blindness through the dusty, disease laden air of those roads. He had been born blind, and the question Jesus’ close followers asked reflected Jewish theology: ‘Who sinned? This man or his parents?’ they asked. People often ask a similar question today when things go awry: ‘What have I done to deserve this?’ Jesus’ response was unexpected: ‘Sin hadn’t led to this man’s blindness. Rather, it was to reveal God’s power’. Consider the simplicity of the drama that followed. Jesus doesn’t look for any expression of faith, he simply acts. And like all the gospel miracles, he wields the creative power of God. It’s a miracle which speaks of the uniqueness of Jesus. Jesus is a unique man doing unique things. He spat on the ground, made clay and anointed the man’s eyes. ‘Go and wash…’ he commanded. The man obeyed and returned seeing. Just think how this simply stated drama would be written up today. There’d be a detailed description of what Jesus said and did. There’d be interviews with people who witnessed it, together with the inevitable question: ‘How did you feel?’ The gospel record almost seems flat and disappointing. But what mattered was what was done, not what was felt. A marvellous miracle had occurred. Now what? In Act 2 five very different conversations unfold, revealing that the man had not only been physically blind but also spiritually blind. The first conversation was with confused neighbors. ‘I am the man,’ he said. ‘The man Jesus healed me’ (9:8-12). But signs of tension emerge with a second conversation. The Pharisees disputed the credentials of someone who had healed him on the Sabbath (9:13-17). No one from God would heal on the Sabbath; how could a sinner do such signs? ‘What do you think?’, they ask the man. ‘I think he’s the prophet,’ he responded. In a third conversation the Pharisees spoke with the healed man’s parents. In response to their questioning, they insisted their son was born blind but could now see. Anyone who said the man who had healed him is the Christ, would be excommunicated, the Pharisees warned. ‘Don’t involve us,’ the parents said. ‘Ask our son. He is of age.’ And when the Pharisees spoke with the healed man, they aggressively observed that he had been born ‘in utter sin’. ‘Keep quiet and all will be well,’ they said. But the man wasn’t shaken. He knew that he was born blind and that now he can see. He was also beginning to see that these revered leaders were blind to the truth. ‘We know that God has spoken to Moses,’ they said, ‘but as for this man, we don’t know where he is from’. ‘You call Jesus a sinner,’ the man responded. ‘If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.’ The fifth conversation is one of the most beautiful found in the Bible (9:35-37). The man has just been rejected by the religious leaders, but Jesus seeks him out. ‘Do you believe in the Son of Man?’, Jesus asks. And the man’s response is honest and open: ‘I would believe if…’ Jesus’ response is stunning: ‘You have seen him. With your own eyes you have seen me, the Son of Man, And now I am speaking to your mind and heart, reaching the depths of your soul with who I am. ‘Lord I believe,’ he responded. And he worshipped Jesus as though he were God. There are few mountain peaks higher in John’s gospel. The man began by calling Jesus a man (9:11); then a prophet (9:17); and then, ‘this man must be from God’. Now he worships Jesus as Lord. It’s a road that many people travel as they awaken to their understanding of Jesus: he did live; he is a prophet; he must be from God; He is God – He is my Lord. But there is a Third Act as Jesus draws out the meaning (9:39-41). “For judgment I came into this world,” Jesus said, “so that those who do not see may see, and so that those who see may become blind”. Whenever Jesus spoke, he created tension within people. This continues today, for every time we talk about Jesus, people will react in one of two wa

John chapter 11 relates the astonishing event in Bethany, when Jesus called Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary out of the tomb, after he had been dead for several days.

In his Pensées Blaise Pascal, the 17th century French mathematician and philosopher wrote, ‘Everyone seeks happiness. This is without exception. Whatever different means they employ, they all tend to this end. The cause of some going to war and of others avoiding it, is the same desire in both, attended with different views. They will never take the least step but to this object…’ John the Gospel writer tells us of a woman at a well in Samaria two thousand years ago who would have agreed. Like us, she longed for happiness, but it had eluded her. Five failed marriages testified to that. Thinking that love and sex and marriage would give her life meaning and happiness, she thought that each new man would be the answer. But each time she made the same mistake. Her life was a mess. She felt insecure, lonely, and dissatisfied. An unexpected conversation. But there came a day when her life was transformed through an unexpected conversation with a Jewish man. Ignoring social, cultural and political taboos, Jesus initiated a conversation with her through a simple request for water from the well. He didn’t talk about her life or matters of faith – at least to begin with. Rather he spoke then, as he speaks to us today, with concern and respect, meeting us where we are. However, it wasn’t long before he took the conversation to another level by speaking to her about living water. This provided a natural opportunity for her to open up about her hopes. It happened this way. Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water” (John 4:12-15). Jesus offered her water that would satisfy her deep inner spiritual thirst. He was saying that he is the answer to the emptiness and the longing for happiness that gnaw at our souls. Most of us aren’t willing to acknowledge this and the woman that day was no exception. We pretend we’re doing well but the reality is that we often live closer to despairthan we admit. So, we endeavor to offset our sense of emptiness by filling our social calendar, making money, being a success, even pursuing sexual adventure. But it never works. No matter how successful we are, no matter how intense the emotional relationships we might experience, nothing can be a substitute for the relationship with God for which we are made. But if we’re going to find Jesus’ answer to our longing for happiness, first we have to admit our need. Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet…”(John 4:16-19) Suddenly she realized that Jesus, whom she had taken for a progressive Jewish man, was nothing less than a prophet with supernatural knowledge of her life. She knew enough about religion to realize that she was being challenged to sort out her relationship with God. The big question was where to do this – the temple in Jerusalem, or a house of worship in Samaria? Jesus’s response is, in today’s world, politically incorrect: “You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4:22-24). Jesus isn’t saying that it doesn’t matter what you believe so long as you’re sincere. Spirit and truth are not just synonyms for sincerity. When Jesus speaks of truth, he is talking about the inner reality of God’s being which becomes visible to us through him. True worshippers must worship the Father in spirit and truth. This can only relate to who Jesus is and what he has done for us. Later Jesus says, “I am the way and the truth and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). The woman responded, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us”.Jesus’s response is breath-taking, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you” – literally, ‘I who am speaking to you, I am’ (John 4:26). Twelve hundred years before, God had revealed his name to Moses: “I am that I am that is my name”. Jesus was not just claiming to be the Messiah but to be one with God. The water that Jesus promised the woman that day would not just quench her thirst for real life but would bring her into a deep, satisfying and eternal friendship with the one true creator-redeemer God. Four centuries later, Augustine, the

Jesus heals a man who was born blind. He does it so simply and so completely that it results in a series of intriguing conversations between the man, his neighbours, his parents, the Jewish leaders and Jesus himself.

Jesus offers a Samaritan woman Living water which will satisfy her longing for happiness.

Jesus offers a woman Living Water - the only way she will find happiness.

Jesus heals a blind man and an interesting conversation ensues with the Pharisees. God's power has been seen and the man himself comes to realise it. However, the Jewish leaders don't want to see it and the insight of the man compared with their spiritual blindness is portrayed in an absorbing exchange of words.

In today’s world, God is not so much dead as cancelled. He is not to be spoken about. If he does exist, there’s nothing good to say about him: he is grim and uncaring. How different this is from what the Bible actually says about God. Consider the most well- known words in the Bible: For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16). They occur in the context of a conversation Jesus had with Nicodemus, a Jewish leader who had come to see him late at night. Nicodemus was one of the thousands who had been impressed and he wanted to meet Jesus for a personal chat. Jesus’ rise to stardom had happened very quickly and his popularity was enormous. He said the most amazing things and backed them up with the most extraordinary actions: he healed the sick, raised the dead to life, and overcame the powers of evil. No matter what confronted him, he was always in control. His person and presence had so great an impact that he is also mentioned by other historians of that era – such as Tacitus and Josephus. God’s love. The Bible tells us that God’s essential nature is love. In Psalm 145:8-9 we read: The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. The Lord is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made. The theme of the love of God permeates both the Old and New Testaments. What is more, we find that his love is not sparked by something attractive about us. God loves because love is at the very heart of his being. Now it’s important to note that our English word ‘love’ translates four Greek words (the language in which the New Testament was written). One word is eros, from which we get our word erotic. It’s a word associated with intense emotional feeling. It’s a word that pagan religions have long used in part as a reference to the mystical experience of the supernatural. One form of yoga in Hinduism exploits sexual intercourse as a technique for achieving spiritual enlightenment. But nowhere does the New Testament use the word eros. It uses a rare word in the original Greek: agape. There are no rapturous, mystical experiences associated with agape. Rather, agape is committed to serve the best interests of the ones who are loved. Furthermore, John tells us, God so loved the world that he reaches out to all men and women. This is breath-taking. God could have shut humanity down at the moment of their rebellion. We deserved nothing less. But God in his love had a bigger and very costly plan in mind that would benefit a world that rejected him. God’s gift. He gave us his Son… John is not saying that God loved world enough to give his Son. Rather, it was out of God’s love for the world that he gave his Son. These words are amongst the most famous in the Bible. Consider what they say about Jesus. He is ‘the one who came down from heaven, the one and only Son of God’ (John 1:14). Being from God, the Son personally reveals to us what God is like. As Jesus says later, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life” (John 8:12). More than ever we need to hear him and respond to him. But significantly, God didn’t give his Son just to shine his light into a dark and troubled world. God so loved the world that he gave his Son to rescue it. The gift would come to its climax and fulfillment when the Son was crucified. t was with Jesus’ death that we discover the immeasurable depth of God’s love. For it was through Jesus’ voluntary, sacrificial death that God opened the door once and for all whereby he could forgive men and women who had shown no love for him. God’s offer. John tells us of the offer that God holds out: Whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. Eternal life is contrasted with perishing. John doesn’t tell us what perishing is but he does tell us that it will be a most unwelcome experience. Elsewhere we learn, mainly through Jesus’ own teaching, that it is a very serious thing to refuse God’s gift. Perishing won’t mean perpetually partying with friends. Everything that is good, beautiful, and true will be lost. T.S. Elliot put it this way, Hell is oneself. Hell is alone… Life eternal will be a life of perfection and beauty, where there will be no more pain or suffering, self-absorption or injustice. It will be fullness of joy in the glory of the Lord. God’s beneficiaries. John tells us who will benefit: Whoever believes in the Son… We can’t achieve eternal life by our own efforts or merits. We are totally dependent on God’s generous gift. To turn to Jesus, the Son of God and to trust him, is the key to our benefiting from God’s precious gift. In our natural state we don’t want to accept God’s offer because we know it would mean a radical lifestyle change. And we don’t want to change. We would rather stay in the dark than move into the light and admit what we are really like. I’ve wondered how long

John 3:1-16 - God's love for us is so profound that he sent his own Son to be a willing sacrifice that paid the penalty for our dismissing of him and our ignoring of him.

Human relationships on the personal and international level must rate as the greatest challenge for the world’s future. As I remarked this day last year, the invasion of Ukraine reveals an unspoken issue that confronts us: humanity is flawed. The Russian author, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn once commented, If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart? Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of the season of Lent that continues through to the day before Easter Day. You may find it helpful to use the six weeks of Lent as a special time for daily Bible reading, honest reflection, and prayer. Indeed, the prayer for Ash Wednesday and for Lent, focuses on God’s forgiveness of the repentant person and spiritual renewal. The Lord Jesus challenges us to know the Scriptures, reflect on them and to pray, not just in Lent but throughout the year. However, such is our flawed nature that we can all deceive ourselves. We can say one thing and do another. We may read the Bible and pray, attend church, and give to the poor, but our hearts can remain unchanged in our relationship with the Lord, as well as with one another. Consider Jesus’ warning against hypocrisy in his Sermon on the Mount: “Beware of practising your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 6:1). Knowing better than we, how deceitful our hearts can be (Jeremiah 17:9), Jesus warns us against using our faith to win the praise of others and make a name for ourselves. In a world where religion is publicly decried, we may not win popularity in the wider community. However, it can be a different story within the life of the church. Preachers and church leaders, musicians and generous givers can generate praise if they work at it. And social media can easily be used to promote this. It is against this that Jesus warns us. Professing Christians who long for the accolades of others will miss out on the true reward that comes from the living God. All they have is an empty faith, with no lasting value. Consider what he says about giving and prayer. Giving. Look at v.2: “So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others.” Trumpets may be a metaphor: we shouldn’t sound our own trumpet or boast about our giving to the needy. But trumpets may also have a literal meaning. In Jesus’ day the Temple trumpets were sometimes blown, calling on people to make a special donation when there was a pressing need. Anyone watching would see who responded. Giving to support the ministry of God’s Word and providing assistance for those in need is biblical. Here Jesus is saying that to give so others know what we’re doing, whether in church or at a charity function, is hypocritical. Hypocritical religion is not from the heart. It’s motivated by self-interest. Jesus is saying here that hypocrites give in order to be honored by those around them. And, he states, “I tell you they have their reward.” “But when you give alms,” he says, “do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret; and your father who sees in secret will reward you.” To ensure that we’re not proud or smug about our generosity, Jesus uses a vivid metaphor: the right hand should not know what the left hand is doing. No one, apart from God, will know about this private giving. He will see our real motives. To be rewarded by God is the best kind of blessing. Approval by others is transient. Approval from God is eternal. Prayer is another area where we can be tempted to look for human recognition. Look at verse 5: “And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward…” Prayers in the synagogues were typically led by a synagogue member. To be invited to lead the prayers was a mark of distinction. But again, Jesus knows how easy it is for anyone leading prayers to draw attention to themselves – perhaps through the literary quality of their prayer or their tone of voice. Significantly, Jesus focuses on private prayer. He isn’t critizing public prayer, but he well knows that who we are when we pray in the privacy of our room is who we truly are. In praying privately, we can be nothing but genuine and honest before God. And uncluttered, heartfelt prayer is what God hears. How important it is that on this Ash Wednesday – and every day – we heed Jesus’ warning: “Beware of practising your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward fr

Jesus' words in Matthew chapter 6 about desiring God's approval and not that of people, private and genuine prayer, private giving which only God sees.

Aspects of Christianity can seem far-fetched to our 21st century minds. The miraculous elements can make it feel like the story of Santa Claus or fairies at the bottom of the garden. But before we dismiss the supernatural events of the Bible as fiction, it’s worth remembering GK Chesterton’s words about truth and fiction: ‘Truth must necessarily be stranger than fiction, for fiction is the creation of the human mind and therefore congenial to it’. I make these comments because today we turn to an extraordinary event recorded in the writings of Matthew, Mark and Luke. In Matthew chapter 17, verse 1 we read: Six days later,… Matthew wants us to be in no doubt that, just as the previous conversation had occurred when Jesus had asked his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” (16:15) so did the event that he now records. Eyewitnesses. Matthew is specific. Jesus took three of his close followers, Peter and James and John, to a high mountain. Unlike what we find in other religions, there was more than one eyewitness to times of supernatural revelation. In this case there were three eyewitnesses to this significant moment in Jesus’ life. And what an astonishing occasion it was. Jesus was transfigured, literally, metamorphosed before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light (17:2). The dazzling white light of the sun is Matthew’s metaphor for the brilliance and purity of the bright light that emanated from Jesus. In both Luke and Acts the reference to clothes as white as light speaks of supernatural glory. Furthermore, two of the great prophets, Moses and Elijah – representing the law and the prophets – were present and spoke with Jesus. (17:3). In a conversation six days earlier, Jesus had asked the disciples who people thought he was. They had first responded, ‘John the Baptist or Elijah, or one of the prophets.’ And when Jesus had pressed them for their own view, Peter had replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (16:16). But here on the mountain it was obvious that Peter had not yet worked out what this meant for he said to Jesus: “Lord, if you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” (16:4). Peter had no idea what he was saying. God’s voice. But before he could burble on with something else, a cloud enveloped them all and they heard a voice, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him” (17:5). God the Father was speaking! Overcome by the awesome scene before them and the words they heard, the disciples fell on their faces and were terrified (17:6). But Jesus, seeing their fear, told them to get up and not to be afraid. Furthermore, walking down the mountain that day, he commanded Peter, James and John not to tell anyone what they had witnessed until after he had been raised from the dead (17:9). God the Father’s words confirmed Jesus’ identity as his unique Son. That day Peter, James and John witnessed Jesus’ majestic glory – the glory that reveals the utter holiness and power of the eternal Son of God who had taken on human form. Much later, Peter writes of the event in his Second Letter: We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ but we had been eye-witnesses of his majesty (1:16). God’s words not only confirmed for the disciples the divine status of Jesus and his supreme power and authority, but also assured them of the authenticity of all he taught and promised. Significantly, the scene also revealed that there are at least two persons in the Godhead. The event also unveiled the extraordinary humility of God in his willingness to serve us in our greatest need. God’s Son was willing to put aside his true glory and come amongst us as one of us. And so we should heed God’s voice and listen to the Son. In the midst of the myriad of voices today it is so easy to get distracted and depressed because we neglect to read and meditate on God’s Word. As we look at Jesus’ transfiguration through the lens of his death and resurrection and ascension, we begin to see its greater significance. Imagine if Jesus had just disappeared after his resurrection and ascension. The transfiguration is a preview of Jesus in his ascended and kingly glory. It also gives us a glimpse of his glory when he returns. The transfiguration confirmed Jesus’ status as he prepared for his coming arrest and death. It also informed and inspired the disciples in their mission and their preaching and ultimately, in their writing. The hope of glory. And there are further implications. The day will come when all of God’s people will share in the glory of Christ! In his Letter to the Romans, Paul the Apostle writes: I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God (8:18). In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis puts it this

Jesus' transfiguration, witnessed by three of his disciples, gives us a glimpse of our hope when Jesus returns.

“This world has no importance and whoever recognizes that wins his freedom. And that’s just it—I hate you because you are bound. I alone am free. Rejoice, for you finally have an emperor to teach you freedom…” So speaks the Emperor Caligula, in Albert Camus’ play of the same name. But did Caligula represent true freedom? History records he used his power in self-indulgent extravagance, no matter how cruel or disgusting. He did whatever he pleased. Many consider freedom is the ability to do whatever you want without external restraints. For the extreme capitalist it means no market controls; for the extreme socialist it means the power of the collective to impose its will on the individual without restraint; for the extreme hedonist it means the license to follow the lusts of the heart. In his highly respected Sermon on the Mount Jesus lays out the pattern for living that he expects of his people. Significantly, he doesn’t simply set out a list of do’s and don’ts. Rather he opens up the real meaning of love for God in loving our neighbor. Let me touch on themes we read in Matthew chapter 5, verses 21 through 48. Anger (5:21, 22): “You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ ‘You shall not murder’ is the 6th Commandment of the Ten. But consider Jesus’s words: “But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment”. He is saying that our angry and hateful thoughts are just as problematical as the actual action of murder. “…And,” he continues, “if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire. Anyone who thinks or says to another, Fool or Idiot, says Jesus, is subject to the fires of God’s judgment – separation from God and from all that is true and good, a separation he likens to the fires of Gehenna, the Valley of Hinnom outside Jerusalem where the city refuse was dumped and burned. The judgement we think is reserved for the literal murderer, also hangs over everyone who is angry, bitter or contemptuous. “So, when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift (Matthew 5:23). DA Carson comments, ‘How easy it is to substitute ceremony for integrity, purity and love; but Jesus will have none of it.’ Before going to church, Jesus says, ensure your relationship with others is sorted out. Lust. “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery’” Jesus continues (5:27). Society often turns a blind eye towards adultery, undercutting marriage as a lifelong commitment. However, Jesus sharpens the focus: “But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (5:28). By labeling lust adultery, he reveals a deeper level to the 7th commandment in terms of the 10th which prohibits covetousness. Jesus is not prohibiting sex: the sexual relationship between a man and woman in marriage is a God-given gift. Nor is he prohibiting the normal attraction that exists between men and women. His issue is with the desires of our hearts controlling our thoughts and behavior. Oaths. “You have heard that it was said in ancient times, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord…’” Jesus says (5:33). There are Old Testament references permitting oath-taking, even in God’s name. For example, in Deuteronomy 10:20 we read, You shall fear the Lord your God. Him you will serve, to him you will cleave, and you will swear by his name. There are also references in the New Testament: Paul swears on God’s name and calls on God to be his witness – as we read in Romans 1:9; 2 Corinthians 1:23; and 1 Thessalonians 2:5. We also find God swearing oaths – that he will not flood the world again (Genesis 9:9-11); that he will send a Redeemer (Luke 1:68, 73); that he will raise his son from the dead (Acts 2:27-31). All this swearing points to its real purpose – the importance of telling the truth. As one commentator has noted, swearing an oath makes the truth all the more solemn and sure. Why then does Jesus speak about swearing falsely? Jewish commentary on the Old Testament law in Jesus’ day set out to define what oaths were binding and what were not. One rabbi taught that if you swore an oath by Jerusalem, you were NOT bound by your oath. If, however, you swore an oath toward Jerusalem, you were bound by your oath. The swearing of oaths became a game you played. Depending on how you played it, you could get away with lying and deception. It was against this kind of casuistry that Jesus spoke. By relating every oath to God, because everything is ultimately under God’s direction, he presses the point of truthfulness. Let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes’ a

True freedom is found in Christ, because then, unlike Caligula, we are able to live in Jesus' way that loves others and isn't controlled by our lusts and desires..

Loud voices today insist there is no God, leaving us adrift on the ocean of life without an agreed moral compass. Persuasive voices appeal to our basic, albeit unthinking instincts, while the profounder, wiser voices that speak to the depths of our souls are drowned out. Into this world of confusion and noise, anger and division, Jesus’ timeless words to all his followers stand out: “You are the salt of the earth” and “You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:13, 14). Jesus’ metaphor of salt is double-edged: his followers are to bring out the flavor of what it means to be men and women; we are also to act as a preservative, slowing down the decay of society. Both a tall order! He has in mind the impact of the counter-cultural lifestyle he has just identified in his eight beatitudes – the ‘blessed’ who would experience the incomparable joys of God’s kingdom (Matthew 5:3-12). They are the people who understand their spiritual poverty before God, who mourn their failure to honor God and who grieve for a world that turns its back on God; they are ones who, instead of engaging in the power play and deceptions of the world, walk the tougher path of humility and service, truth and peace. Indeed, it was because Jesus knew humanity without God would always spiral away from truth and goodness, that he called on his followers to be the salt of the earth. He expects everyone of us who has turned to him in repentance and faith, to live in a way that exemplifies the beauty, goodness and joy of Godly living, and slow down the rot of self-interest and greed, of injustice and the unchecked power-play of social elites. Today’s world either ignores or simply rejects the reality that none of us is good. We’re all flawed. As Jesus was all too aware the world needs good and godly examples pointing to him and his kingdom. But this will only happen when his followers don’t become insipid. That’s why he warns against salt losing its saltiness: “…if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people’s feet” (Matthew 5:13b). NaCl is a stable compound. However, in the ancient world, salt was obtained more from salt marshes and contained many impurities. The actual salt could be leeched out, leaving a substance that tasted salty but in fact was worthless. ‘Watch out,’ Jesus warns, ‘that you don’t become insipid, wishy-washy fools’. How do people view you? Do you claim to be a believer, but your life remains unchanged? Is your lifestyle directed by the culture or by the Bible? Are you just as greedy, unforgiving, and as selfish as everyone around you? ‘If you call yourself a follower of mine,’ Jesus says, ‘let your life be transformed by my words, for “You are the salt of the earth”’. In his Letter to the Colossians Paul the Apostle writes: Conduct yourselves wisely toward outsiders, making the most of the time… Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer everyone (4:5-6). Salt here is a metaphor for sparkling conversations that trigger questions about life. Have you considered ways you could use news items and opinion columns to ask questions and spark conversations about the goodness of God and his good news? “You are the light of the world…” Jesus continues (Matthew 5:14). Negatively he is saying that there is a darkness about our human existence – something we easily forget because we live in an age that has turned away from God’s compass bearings. Up until the 1970s morality in the West was grounded in the Judaeo-Christian ethic. But now all has changed. Few leaders anywhere would challenge the prevailing assumption that there is no morally binding objective authority or truth above the individual. Some 700 years before Jesus was born, Isaiah wrote of the birth of God’s King. In chapter 9 he speaks of the people walking in darkness and seeing a great light: On those living in a land where the shadow of death falls, a light has dawned. A child will be born. He will be called “Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.” Indeed, in John chapter 8 we read Jesus’ electrifying words: “Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life”. God, the source of all true light, has come into our world in person. Jesus, the light who reveals God, calls us out from the darkness of our own ego into the light. But how will our world today come to know him? “You are the light of the world,” Jesus says. “A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house…” (Matthew 5:14f). ‘Everything you are, everything you do,’ Jesus says, ‘must reflect all I have taught you.’ He expects us to reflect the light of God in our lives to the world. Yet do we? Do we endeavor to live out what he teaches in his Sermon on the Mount? Or do we hide the ligh

Jesus words to His followers to be salt and light in a world which denies his existence and is without a moral compass or hope.

Great leaders are remembered for their speeches as well as their accomplishments – George Washington for his Inaugural address as President, Abraham Lincoln for his iconic Gettysburg address, and Martin Luther King for his Washington Speech, ‘I have a dream…’. Today we turn to the introduction of a most memorable speech – Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount recorded in the Gospel of St Matthew, chapter 5, verses 1 through 12. In chapter 1 Matthew introduces Jesus as God’s long-promised king, a descendent of the great King David (1:1). Foreigners, the Magi, came from the East and worshipped him as king (2:1-6). At his baptism Jesus is called God’s ‘Son’, a title reserved for the kings of Israel (3:14-17; cp Psalm 2). And by the close of chapter 4, we learn that people have come to hear Jesus from the reaches of the vast empire that David and Solomon had ruled in the golden age of Israel’s history some thousand years before (4:23-25). But there is something unexpected about the opening chapters: Matthew doesn’t record one word from Jesus himself. It seems deliberate. Matthew wants us to know that when we do hear from Jesus, we are not simply hearing from a ‘nice guy’, but from the great king. The Sermon on the Mount, we could say, is the King’s Speech! Matthew chapter 5 opens on a new scene. A huge crowd had gathered on a hillside and Jesus used the natural amphitheater to address the two groups of people present – followers and a large crowd of onlookers. And despite the diversity of his vast audience, Jesus’ words are electrifying: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God.” Known as Beatitudes each line in his introduction begins, Blessed are … Blessed is sometimes translated happy, but that identifies just one aspect of the meaning. To be blessed is to receive God’s approval and as this is God’s universe, God’s blessing is the greatest honor anyone can receive. From the outset Jesus’ words challenge us. Do we want the blessing that comes from celebrity status because we are perceived to be successful? Or do we truly want, above everything else in life, God’s blessing? The first beatitude reveals that the really blessed are the poor in spirit. Jesus isn’t speaking here of the materially destitute or the psychologically impoverished, the spiritual elite or the prayerful mystics. He’s referring to the spiritually destitute. Poverty in spirit is exemplified by the tax collector in Jesus’ story in Luke 18:9-14. Over against the pride of the Pharisee, the tax collector humbly and honestly prayed from a corner in the Temple, ‘God, Be merciful to me, a sinner’. Poverty of spirit is the admission of our failure to love and honor God first in our lives. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted”, Jesus continues. These people grieve for personal failure before God. They also mourn because, even dimly aware of God’s purity, they see how the world without God lives in darkness. They weep because of the erosion of truth, because of the greed, cynicism, and lack of compassion evident everywhere. “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” (5:5). Meekness isn’t a reference to the weak or insipid. It is a strong word, referring to the deep, selfless resolve to serve the best interests of others. Meekness is not insisting on your rights. It’s thinking of others before self – and hence not being on the front foot with criticism. No one of us is perfect. Jesus himself is the supreme example of true meekness. The meek learn to look at life from God’s viewpoint and are content. Their egos are not so inflated they think they must always have more. In Christ they see themselves as possessing everything (2 Cor 6:10; cp 1 Cor 3:21-23). Furthermore, a billion years into eternity (if we can speak of eternity in terms of time), God’s people in the new heaven and the new earth will still be rejoicing that this beatitude is literally true. They will be grateful that by grace they learned to be meek during their initial threescore years and ten. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness” (5:6). Hunger and thirst are vivid images of desire. Righteousness suggests justice and truth. To hunger for righteousness is to long that our lives reflect the mind and will of God. There’s an inner longing for heaven where righteousness and justice will prevail. “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy” (5:7). Mercy embraces forgiveness for the guilty, and also compassion for the suffering and needy. The promise isn’t mercy from others but significantly from God himself. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God” (5:8). Throughout the Bible the heart is the center of our being – of who we are. Purity in heart is indispensable for our relationship with God, or to use Jesus’ words, for seeing God. Purity of heart isn’t outward conformity to rules. Rather, our heart, our thoughts and attitudes need to be pure. ‘What do you think about when your mind slips into neutra

Jesus' Sermon on the Mount from Matthew chapter 5 and verses 1 through 12.

Heraclitus, the 6th century BC Greek philosopher observed, ‘Unless you expect the unexpected you will never find truth, for it is hard to discover and hard to attain’. Come with me to Matthew chapter 4, verses 12 through 25. Matthew records that following the arrest of John the Baptist, Jesus began his public ministry in the region of Capernaum in Galilee – the land of Zebulun and Naphtali. Back in the 8th century BC powerful Assyrian forces had gathered in that very region preparing to conquer the northern kingdom, Israel (720BC). Yet into that darkness Isaiah the prophet spoke of the day when a light would dawn on the northern horizon, and God would honor Galilee of the Gentiles (Isaiah 9:1-2). In chapter 4, Matthew tells us that Jesus began his public ministry in the north – not in the capital, Jerusalem. ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand’, he said. An Unexpected Message. The kingdom of heaven is not a location but rather refers to God’s supreme rule. Jesus’ words at hand implied that with his presence this had taken on a new immediacy. His words would have awakened the hopes of God’s people who lived with the expectation of the coming of God’s king, the Messiah. Prophets such as Samuel, Isaiah and Ezekiel had spoken of such a time (2 Samuel 7: 11b-13; Isaiah 7:14, 9: 6-7, 11:1-5; Ezekiel 34:23-24). But Jesus’ call for repentance may well have come as a surprise, for the king was expected to bring in God’s reign of peace and prosperity. He would judge the nations: the time for repentance would be over. The work of the prophets, including John the Baptist, was to prepare the way for the king’s coming. But Jesus was still calling people to repent, suggesting that there were deeper truths he needed to address before he revealed himself in all his awesome glory, dominion and power. The real issue Jesus sees with all of us is that we have a heart problem. Heart in the Bible is not just the pump that sends the blood around our bodies, nor is it the seat of our emotions. It refers to the real us. Let me ask, why do we hurt people we love? Why, in this technologically advanced world are there still divisions within nations and wars between nations? Why is there still so much injustice? It has to do with the desires of our hearts – in our relationships with one another, and especially in our relationship with God. When Jesus was once asked what is the greatest commandment, he responded, saying the first and greatest commandment is that we should love God with all our heart, mind, soul and strength (Mark 12:30). An Unexpected Call. It was the practice for good teachers or rabbis in Jesus’ day to have disciples with them. “Follow me,” Jesus said to two fishermen, Peter and Andrew, who were brothers. It wasn’t a command but rather a call. They had choice: they could follow or remain where they were. But notice Jesus wasn’t just calling them to be followers – to listen and to learn; he was also inviting them to join him in becoming fishers of men and women. The prophet Jeremiah had spoken of ‘fishing for men and women’, meaning catching men and women for judgement. But the mission Jesus was inviting Peter and Andrew to join him in, was to rescue men and women from judgement – an unexpected call. Two other fishermen, James and John, the sons of Zebedee, were also invited to join Jesus in this mission. All four immediately left their families and businesses and followed Jesus. Jesus wasn’t asking them to sell up their homes or businesses. But such was his impressive nature or his teaching that they were willing to leave their businesses in the hands of others and follow him. An Unexpected Compassion. With deft brush strokes Matthew introduces us to the pattern of Jesus’ ministry – preaching the good news of the kingdom, as well as healing the sick, and exorcising the demon possessed, at a word and in a moment of time. Today, the notion of miracles, especially those recorded in the New Testament, are dismissed because ‘we now know the laws of nature’. Against this Dr. John Lennox, Oxford Emeritus Professor of Mathematics and Philosophy responds: ‘The laws of nature that science observes are the observable regularities that God the creator has built into the universe. However, such ‘laws’ don’t prevent God from intervening if he chooses. When he does, we are able to identify the irregularity and speak of it as a miracle’. If Jesus is God’s unique Son – not just a man, but God in the flesh – if he speaks and acts with the authority and power of God, it is quite consistent for him to be able to perform what we call ‘miraculous’ feats. Indeed, if the Bible is authentic – and it claims to be so – we should expect the unexpected. Indeed, we shouldn’t be surprised that Jesus wielded such extraordinary power that crowds came in droves from near and far – even from far away Jerusalem. But there is another layer to Jesus’ acts of intervention: they were temporary. People were only restored for a time; they would still

Jesus' call for repentance and to become fishers of men and women.

Predictions about the global economic outlook for the new year are not encouraging. Nor is the news of the ongoing aggression by Russia in Ukraine. Given the rise of powerful despots and divisions within western democracies, is there anything that we can do? Two and a half millennia ago the Jewish people were in exile. In 586 BC Babylonian forces had rampaged through Judah, conquering Jerusalem, razing its walls and its temple to the ground. Political obliteration seemed inevitable as the cream of the population was taken to Babylon. Yet the extraordinary thing was this: Judah’s morale was not destroyed. There was a glimmer of hope on the horizon. Isaiah, one of the prophets who had spoken of God’s impending judgment on the nation, had also sounded a voice of hope. “Comfort, comfort, my people,” Isaiah chapter 40 begins and in the following chapters the prophet speaks of a ‘Servant’ whom God would raise up to rescue and restore his people. Isaiah tells us that God’s plan involved Cyrus, an insignificant prince from the north of Babylon. Despite humble beginnings Cyrus rose to defeat the Babylonian forces and paved the way for the Persian Empire under Darius. With his rise to power Cyrus had the authority in 520BC to decree the release of the Jewish exiles, permitting their return to Jerusalem and the restoration of their city – a miraculous event. Isaiah speaks of Cyrus as God’s anointed (45:1). But as we read on, we learn from Isaiah chapter 49 that God had greater plans for his Servant. In verse 1 we read God’s words: Listen to me, O coastlands, pay attention, you peoples from far away! God’s people were crying out for rescue, but this Servant doesn’t speak directly to them. Rather he speaks to the world at large, the islands and distant nations. The mission of this Servant is not just to God’s people, but also to the nations. His vision is global. Yes, his work would involve the restoration of Judah, for in verse 5 we read: And now the Lord says, who formed me in the womb to be his servant, to bring Jacob back to him, and that Israel might be gathered to him, for I am honored in the sight of the Lord, and my God has become my strength— But there is something more. A needy world is waiting to hear the truth about God: “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6). In fulfillment of his promise to Abraham (Genesis 12:3b), God’s plan is to extend his salvation to the nations. And, while verse 7 says that God’s Servant will suffer at the hands of the nations, a day would arrive when they – and even their leaders – would come to him. Centuries before Jesus’ birth, Isaiah was opening a window on elements that would characterize his life. Wise men did come from the East to pay him homage at his birth. People from around the world have been coming to him ever since. As we look back on Isaiah’s words through the lens of the New Testament we see that he was right. God’s king has now come. In his words and his actions Jesus revealed that he is God in the flesh. He not only taught with great authority but he also revealed God’s compassion for a needy world – feeding the hungry and healing the sick, overcoming the powers of evil and even raising the dead. But most of all, he dealt with our greatest need – our selfish, broken relationship with our Maker. Once and for all, at great cost to himself, he offered himself to die the death we deserve. As yet, most people don’t know about Jesus, let alone acknowledge him as Lord. Many who do know about him may agree that in Jesus we have the greatest moral teacher who has ever lived. To follow his teachings, the world would certainly enjoy peace: nowhere did he ever encourage violence or evil. In fact, even when he was betrayed in a most ugly way, he told one of his followers to put away his sword. Jesus taught and exemplified truth and love, compassion and peace. The Getty Music Compassion Hymn sets out the theme of God’s love and compassion and his commitment to rescue the lost: There is an everlasting kindness You lavished on us when the Radiance of heaven came to rescue the lost; You called the sheep without a shepherd to leave their distress for Your streams of forgiveness and the shade of Your rest… / How beautiful the feet that carry this gospel of peace to the fields of injustice and the valleys of need – to be a voice of hope and healing, to answer the cries of the hungry and helpless with the mercy of Christ / What boundless love, what fathomless grace You have shown us, O God of compassion! Each day we live, an offering of praise as we show the world Your compassion. The 17th century philosopher and mathematician, Blaise Pascal observed: ‘Humanity despises religion. They hate it and are afraid it may be true. The cure for this is just to show that religion is not contrary to re

God's compassion seen in the restoration of Israel through Isaiah's writings and in the sending of His servant, the Messiah, to restore us in our relationship with Him.

A close source pointed me to an article by Marylynn Rouse in Christian Heritage London, about the 250th anniversary of Amazing Grace. She comments, ‘It’s not often that a pop song in the charts can claim to have been around for 250 years. John Newton’s hymn Amazing Grace featured in hit parades all over the world in the 1960s and 70s, but was written for New Year’s Day 1773. ‘Newton was then curate-in-charge (senior minister) at the parish church of St Peter and St Paul in Olney, Buckinghamshire. He took for his text 1 Chronicles 17:16,17 – And David the king came and sat before the Lord, and said, Who am I, O Lord God, and what is mine house, that thou hast brought me thus far? And yet this was a small thing in thine eyes, O God; for thou hast also spoken of thy servant’s house for a great while to come, and hast regarded me according to the estate of a man of high degree, O Lord God. ‘Newton began his sermon by saying “The Lord bestows many blessings upon his people, but unless he likewise gives them a thankful heart, they lose much of the comfort they might have in them.” ‘His objective then was to arouse in his listeners “a thankful heart”.’ As we begin a new calendar year, it’s worth pairing two great themes in Isaiah chapter 40, Comfort, and in chapter 60, Glory. With the Babylonian conquest in 586BC, Isaiah’s first readers had lost their city, the temple (the symbol of God’s presence) and their king. We can only begin to imagine their reaction to Isaiah’s words in chapter 40, for he was now telling them that the time of God’s judgment was over. God had not forgotten them: they would have a future. Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. There’s a timelessness about these words, for they speak to us all as we face life with its difficulties, challenges, and suffering. In the midst of our cries from the heart, ‘Comfort’ speaks of God’s tenderness. The theme continues in verse 11: ‘He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom…’ Isaiah knows that in tough times only a big God can sustain us. And our God is a big God. Only he can overrule our world when it is falling into chaos around us. Only he can say to us with any degree of credibility, ‘Comfort’. Isaiah continues by awakening us to God’s awesome majesty and kindness, with questions such as, ‘What is God like?’ Can we compare him to the great ones of the world? Some try to pose as gods! Nebuchadnezzar, the great emperor of ancient Babylon, tried it for a while. So did Augustus Caesar and other Roman emperors. So too, do some autocrat leaders today. To which Isaiah responds: Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth? It is he who sits enthroned above the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers; who stretches out the heavens like a curtain, and spreads them like a tent to live in; who brings princes to nought and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing… We search the universe in vain for an adequate comparison to God’s majesty. There is nothing we might worship – be it science or technology, intelligence or wisdom, military might or political power, or even the sun or the stars – that can be compared with him. Yet our world today has walked away from the very thought of God. ‘Is God kind and compassionate?’ we ask. Have you not known? Have you not heard? Isaiah says. The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable (40:28). No matter how heart-breaking our situation, no matter how perplexing, we remain in the hands of a kind and limitless intelligence. He knows what he’s doing. Events that trouble us don’t mean that God’s hands have slipped from the helm. We may not always understand his ways, but we have every reason to trust him. Indeed, God is good and caring: He gives power to the faint, and gives strength to the powerless. Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, and note this: they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint (40:29). Walk and not faint. That’s what we need when life is tough and incomprehensible. In times when resentment, bitterness and pain make it hard to believe and hard to pray, hard to sing and hard to read the Bible, we need to turn afresh to Isaiah 40. Which brings us to Isaiah chapter 60: Glory. Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you. For behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will be seen upon you. And nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your rising… I am the Lord; in its time I will hasten it (Isaiah 60:1-3, 22b). The darkness of this world will one

Comfort and Glory from Isaiah - and the 250th anniversary of John Newton's Amazing Grace.

An op-ed on Christmas Eve four years ago in The Australian (12/24/18), referenced a lecture by Dr. George Weigel. The article noted that Weigel ‘argues that Christianity, including the values highlighted at Christmas, has an important role to play in revitalizing democratic, market-oriented societies … These are struggling on both sides of the Atlantic and elsewhere, including Australia, producing unrest, instability and disillusionment.’ ‘If free politics and free economics are to produce a genuine human flourishing, Weigel says, the strength of the public moral culture, flourishing institutions that earn public confidence and a concern for the common good are vital. Christmas offers a chance to reflect on such issues and to take stock of the bigger picture…’ While it is not my purpose here to explore the relationship between Christianity, politics and a free-market economy, let me observe that the article is similar to ones often found towards the end of a year, calling for a reawakening of the meaning and application of the real Christmas story. Articles like this invite us to focus on the themes of the poverty and weakness, the love and compassion embedded in the birth of Jesus – all of which are true. But here is a problem. Driven by the trickle-down effect of writers who have adopted Nietzsche’s anti-theology – that God is dead – our culture tells us that the Bible is a series of fanciful stories and fictious stuff. But this conflicts with the opening lines of the longest Gospel – Luke. Dr. Luke wants us to know that he was writing history, not fiction. He followed the principles of writing adopted by historians such as Thucydides. Furthermore, he tells us that he verified his account with eyewitnesses and ministers of the word, people who had been with Jesus during his public ministry – the ‘keepers of the Jesus record’. In their various ways the four Gospels witness to the reality of Jesus as God who has come amongst us as one of us. His public life reveals his authority and his compassion for a very needy world – especially our need to be rescued from our self-love – captured by the line: ‘me, myself and I’. We have turned aside from the true love and worship of our maker. Matthew chapter 2 provides an example of true worship. In verses 1 through 12 he records that Magi – wise men – visited Jesus from the far East to bring him gifts and worship him. In chapter 1 Matthew tells us that Jesus was born in Bethlehem, the town where Jacob had buried Rachel and where King David was born. Known from that time as the City of David, the prophet Micah spoke of Bethlehem as the place where God’s Messiah would be born (Micah 5:2). The legends that have developed around the magi following a star and visiting the baby Jesus in Bethlehem shroud the veracity and the surprise of Matthew’s account. He doesn’t mention the number of the wise men who visited Jesus, nor does he say they were kings. Nor does he tell us their names. Who then were these people who travelled so far? The Magi were a tribe of priests in ancient Persia and were known for their study in astrology – making predictions from the stars. In the ancient world the movement of the stars and the planets was understood to frame the orderly pattern of the universe. Any interruption to this was seen to mark some new significant event that would impact the human story. Piecing together the astronomical studies of the past, it seems that the Magi observed a conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter that occurred in 7BC around the time Jesus was born. In an age before telescopes, the conjunction would have given the appearance of a very bright star which some of them followed. Coming from Persia where the Jewish people had been in exile in the 6th century BC they would have known the Jewish Scriptures which include the prophecy of Balaam in Numbers chapter 24, verse 17: I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near: a star shall come out of Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel;… The conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter occurred three times in 7BC, suggesting that when it had first appeared the Magi travelled westward to Jerusalem, Israel’s capital. Given the distance, they would have arrived there about the time of the third planetary conjunction. It was when they were in Jerusalem that they learned of the baby’s birth in Bethlehem – as Micah had foretold. Matthew records: Going into the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh (Matthew 2:11). Their gifts were prophetic: gold, a gift for a king – the greatest king of all time lay before them; frankincense, used by the priests – the highest priest of all was the one they saw; myrrh, for the burial of the dead – this baby, born to be king would be crowned through his suffering on a cross. Significantly, and to us surprisingly, these highly respected, wise, non-Jewish men fell on

The Magi, priests from ancient Persia, worship the King. Why? Who is he? Prophecy fulfilled bringing hope for our world through all ages. In Matthew chapters 1 and 2 we find hope for our world at the end of another year.

"What is Christmas all about?" asks Charlie Brown. The answer is found in the book of Isaiah and also in Matthew's Gospel chapter 1.

‘What is Christmas all about?’ asks Charlie Brown, in Charles M. Schultz’s A Charlie Brown Christmas. When A Charlie Brown Christmas was first released (December 1965), the overwhelming positive response took the television network executives by surprise. It was watched by forty-five percent of the television viewing audience that night. And now, over fifty years later it is still a Christmas classic and continues to draw millions. Tired of the commercialism of Christmas, Charlie Brown wants to know its real meaning. We see Snoopy’s answer when he enters a Christmas lighting and decoration competition. For Sally, Charlie Brown’s young sister, it’s all about getting. When once again Charlie Brown asks his question, Linus responds by taking center-stage and reading from Luke 2:8-14: And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And behold, an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, Do not be afraid: for see – I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will amongst those he favors’. In an interview, Charles Schultz’s wife, Jeannie commented that her husband pushed back against the idea that there is no place for a Bible text in a cartoon. He insisted that the Bible is not just for God’s people – it is for everyone. Schultz understood that Christmas is the twinning of Giving and Getting. God gave; we get or receive. Indeed, this Advent season I have been drawing attention to the way, some seven centuries before Jesus was born, Isaiah foretold that a young woman would conceive and give birth to a son who would be named Immanuel – God with us (Isaiah 7:14). But that is not all. In Isaiah chapter 9 we read that into the darkness of Israel’s experience at the time, a light would dawn in the north, the region of Galilee: Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who are in distress, Isaiah says. Galilee was the region that had been subject to the Assyrian invasion. As Isaiah chapter 9 unfolds we read that a day of joy would come (verse 3); the signs of war would cease (verses 4 and 5); and the shadow of death would disappear. For, as verse 6 of chapter 9 says: To us a child is born, to us a son is given… The sign of the dawning of the new day in God’s purposes would be something weak and insignificant – the birth of a baby. Yet, as Isaiah foreshadows, the government will be on his shoulders. His name was to be called, wonderful counsellor, mighty God, everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (9:6). Through the lens of the New Testament we see the beginning of the fulfilment of these words – the first instalment, as it were. Matthew chapter 1, verses 21 through 23 records the words of the angel to Joseph: ‘(Mary) will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins’. All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: ‘Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel’. So often we simply do not appreciate the full weight of this event. We may believe the baby born in Bethlehem to be the Son of God, but how often do we let the intense meaning of this birth pass us by? How often do we pause and reflect on the reality that divinity walked the streets of Jerusalem? That infinite Wisdom and Power humbly took on human nature? That God poured his heavenly resources into rescuing us, even though it meant the violence and horror of a crucifixion? It is for our sake that Christ condescended to such monumental humiliation. The lowly birth in Bethlehem points to Christ’s voluntary decision to set aside his glory for our sake. He came and he gave, to enrich us. Because of God’s gift to us, we will want to respond with true repentance and deep thanks. We will also want to emulate, no matter how feebly, the unspeakable generosity of God’s gift. Because God gave, we will want to live God’s way and to share with others the gift of joy and hope. Not condescendingly or aggressively, but graciously and generously. There is a story about a fourth century bishop in Turkey. One Christmas he wanted to express his gratitude to God for the gift of Jesus. Going into a slum area of the city carrying a heavy sack on his back, he knocked on the door of one of the little mud houses and was greeted by the dirty faces of three young children. Taking the pack off his back he gave them each a warm woollen coat before disappearing back to his own home. The bishop was Nicholas of Myra. The story of Nicholas, now thoroughly commercialized, is never

It’s said that familiarity breeds contempt. Christmas celebrations can at first fill us with awe. But with the passing of the years, we can become indifferent and sometimes even cynical about them. Whenever familiarity produces contempt, we are potentially in danger. We can disengage and become weary and cynical. Amidst the familiar trappings of Christmas, it’s easy to become blind and deaf to the overwhelming significance of the humility of God. How many of us have become so familiar with the account of Jesus’ birth that its reality and true meaning no longer touches our hearts. We forget that it fulfilled God’s promise made seven centuries before, that a young woman would bear a son whose name would be ‘Immanuel’ – God with us (Isaiah 7:14). How would we respond if we celebrated Christmas only once every ten years? It’s important to think about this, for Christmas celebrates the birth of one who stands unique in history. We see in the Gospel records the integrity of his character, his compassion for the needy, the profundity yet simplicity of his teaching, and his extraordinary powers. Hegel, the German philosopher observed, ‘One of the lessons of history is that we don’t learn from history’. Secular progressivism’s outright denial of the reality of the uniqueness of Christianity’s founder is one of the tragedies of our age. Jesus Christ is not just great: he is goodness incarnate. His voice is the voice our world desperately needs to hear and heed. Indeed, every generation needs to hear or rediscover the Gospel truth. Furthermore, it is up to all of us who believe to play our part in ensuring that God’s gospel is effectively passed on to the younger generations. As we endeavor to do this it’s very easy to forget the lessons of the past. We’re tempted to ask, ‘Is God really in control?’ ‘Does he really care?’ ‘Will his Spirit continue to open blind eyes and unstop deaf ears?’ Has he left us alone to fend for ourselves?’ ‘Is there any hope for the future?’ At the time of Isaiah the prophet, it seems that these kinds of questions were in the mind of King Ahaz when he was confronted by the Assyrian threat on his northern border. Into this situation Isaiah spoke: ‘Keep calm Ahaz. God will give you a sign – any sign, all you have to do is ask’ (Isaiah 7: 10). But Ahaz was not interested in any sign. Even though God had given him this special offer, Ahaz refused. Second Kings, chapter 15 reveals that Ahaz chose to do it his way: he paid tribute to the Assyrian king, hoping the danger would disappear. Ahaz turned his back on the familiar – what was known from Israel’s past. Prayer and listening to God’s Word were not part of his response. We can be like Ahaz. We ignore the enormous influence for good that Christianity has had on the western world and look for human solutions, not God’s solutions to the challenges we face. We have allowed a liberal, secular progressivism to drive our thinking. And tragically it’s happening in many churches. Yet what does the current wisdom of the world have to offer? In its apparent care for the needy, secular progressivism appears to resemble Christianity in that it encourages love and compassion, tolerance and the relief of poverty and injustice. But at its center it is myopic and cruel because it teaches that life as we know it is the only life. It ignores the lessons of history revealing that God not only exists, but that he has acted in great humility to serve us in our greatest need: our need to be rescued from our self-absorption. For the first Christians, the incarnation and the events of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the Son of God were real. Their familiarity with these truths didn’t weaken their faith but enhanced it. Their lives were rooted in God’s promises. The daily insecurities of the decaying Roman Empire with its organized persecutions didn’t affect their basic confidence. They looked for the day when Christ would return. Indeed, they heeded Jesus’ words: ‘Stay awake at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that are going to take place, and to stand before the Son of Man’ (Luke 21:36). Familiarity with the Christmas story can breed an indifference to the miracle of the incarnation and the uniqueness of Jesus. Are you praying that the Spirit of God will keep your faith vital and fresh, confident in God’s promises? Are you also praying that God’s Spirit will awaken hearts that have grown cold towards him because familiarity has bred contempt? Recent research shows that one-third of those who have not been in church for some time would accept an invitation to go to church. Christmas is a great time to invite them. A prayer. Lord, we beseech you, pour out your grace into our hearts; so that, knowing the incarnation of your Son Jesus Christ by the message of an angel, we may be brought to the glory of his resurrection by his cross and passion. We ask this through Jesus Christ who lives and reigns with you and

Has our familiarity with Christmas dulled our minds and senses to its truth and to God's astounding mercy and grace?

I’ve been intrigued by the promotion of Advent calendars, online and in large retail stores this year. Looking into it, I find it is becoming a pre-Christmas accompaniment, advertising wine, coffee pods and chocolate, lego (for Advent) and, of course the calendars themselves. Back in November 2016, Ysenda Maxtone Graham drew attention in The Spectator UK to the season of Advent. She spoke of Advent as ‘a season of death, judgment, heaven and hell’ (November 26, 2016). ‘I relish the frisson of gloom,’ she wrote, the ‘foreboding and fear of judgment you get at Advent, alongside the hope. The Holly and the Ivy is all very well, but it’s the minor chord at the end of O Come, O Come, Emmanuel that I crave.’ ‘More goose-pimples erupt in the naves and transepts of our cathedrals during the Advent service, than at any other in the liturgical year’, she comments. ‘It’s the mixture of bitterness and sweetness that does it,…’ It was Isaiah the prophet, writing in the 8th century BC, who was amongst the first of the prophets to speak, not only of the first coming of God’s King (Isaiah 7:14; 9:6-7), but also of his second coming (Isaiah 11:1-9). It’s important we think about this. Often we’re not aware of elements of the Christian heritage that touch people in our wider society. Christmas retains an ongoing point of connection; now we’re seeing an interest that extends back into Advent. Given this interest let me consider one of the readings set for this Advent season – for this Sunday, December 12. The Book of Isaiah, chapter 35, verses 1 and 2 read: The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They shall see the glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God. A brooding theme in Isaiah chapters 1 through 39 is God’s impending judgment of his people. In 586BC the Babylonian forces would destroy the city of Jerusalem and take its people into exile. But Isaiah chapter 35 shines a light in the darkness, bringing news of God’s promise of a new day. Isaiah’s poetry is powerful as he likens the experience of joy and singing at the coming of the glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God, to our response when flowers burst into bloom in parched lands after refreshing rain. It is a vision that inspires courage and fearlessness: Strengthen the weak hands and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are of a fearful heart, ‘Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God..’ (35:3-4a). But Isaiah 35 also sounds a warning note. Because God is holy, his very nature means that he must judge what is unholy. In chapter 35, verse 4b we read: ‘…He will come with vengeance, with terrible recompense…’ We would be happier to overlook this aspect of God’s character. We’d much prefer to listen to and pass on a message of blessing – of justice without judgment, of salvation without a cross. However, the wonderful news is that the nature of the God of the Bible is always to have mercy. Isaiah continues: ‘…He will come and save you’ (35:4c). We all know that despite the incredible advances in science and technology, humanity continues to make a mess of relationships – between the nations and amongst families. It is self-evident we have no power of ourselves to save ourselves: spiritually we are blind and deaf, lame and mute (Isaiah 35:5-6). The wonderful news is that God himself promises a future for us. He will build a highway for his people into his very presence! He will bring us to our true and lasting home where there will be joy and gladness… Sorrow and sighing shall flee far away (35:8, 10). Isaiah uses the language of redeemed and ransomed of the Lord (35:9-10) to speak of everyone who is brought into God’s presence. These words look back to the rescue from Egypt; they also look forward to the saving work of Jesus Christ. There is also something here that we miss. The highway to God is called the Holy Way; the unclean shall not travel on it… (35:8). Having been rescued we are now called upon to work at the quality of life that reflects the holiness of God. Paul the Apostle puts it this way: we all… beholding the glory of the Lord, will be transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another (2 Corinthians 3:18). Isaiah, chapter 35 is a great reading for Advent. We see in it another facet of Isaiah’s vision of the glory of the Lord as he points us to the glorious day of the final coming of the Lord. We can drink it in and take new courage as it speaks to us of the everlasting joy and gladness we will then know. Surely this is news we will want family and friends to know – so they too will see glory of the Lord, the majesty of our God. The interest in Advent reveals the deceit of a secular progressivism insisting that life now is all there is. This is cruel, denying the reality of a day when perfect justice will be done. It also rejects wha

Isaiah 35 - Through Isaiah, God promises salvation and hope for His people.

Phillippians 4 - Giving thanks in everything - and the peace of God ...

The world around us seems to be growing more selfish and corrupt. The values that spring from a general acknowledgement that we are the special creation of a personal God are gathering dust on the shelf of history. Parents are concerned about the influences of social media and the impact of gender issues. Drugs and alcohol, homelessness, violence and rape seem more prevalent. Is it possible to feel hopeful? Two and a half millennia ago hopelessness was staring the little kingdom of Judah in the face. In the 8th century BC the Assyrian imperial army rampaged through the Middle East and sacked the northern kingdom of Israel. A century later the Babylonian armies were on the rise, and it was only a matter of time before Judah received the unwelcome attention of those powerful forces. How would Judah survive? She had no army to speak of, no money and no allies. Greater nations had already been cut down. Political obliteration seemed inevitable. Yet despite the odds, Judah’s morale was not destroyed. A glimmer of hope was on the horizon. It was Isaiah, one of the prophets who had spoken of doom and despair, who wrote about a special leader who would be raised up. In Isaiah chapter 11, features of God’s promised king unfold. A leader after God’s own heart. Isaiah was disappointed by the politicians of his day. They were corrupt: they took bribes, ignored the poor, and turned a blind eye to justice. King Ahaz, for example, had broken every trust given to him. He had even used the gold of the Temple to try to bribe Assyria and prevent her march on Jerusalem. He’d failed. He was another ruler who’d let his people down. Time and time again, rulers and governments do that. In most western democracies today election promises are constantly consigned to the trash. In chapter 11, verse 1, Isaiah offers hope: A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. Jesse was the father of King David, the great king in the Old Testament. Just as David himself had come out of obscurity, Isaiah is saying, so too a new king would emerge, and he would be greater than David and his son Solomon. The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, Isaiah says, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord (Isaiah 11:2-3). Wisdom, understanding and knowledge would characterize this king’s rule. But fundamental would be his willingness to learn from God. There would be no political blunders in his rule. Furthermore, corruption would not plague his government; the media wouldn’t be able to destroy him – either over his personal integrity or his policies. No one would be living in poverty or without a home. A leader who would use his power for peace. The metaphors in verse 6 are vivid: The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. Peace would be the mark of this leader’s rule. Periods of world peace are fleeting. The war in Ukraine has expunged the view that the world had at last entered a time of safety, security and prosperity. Yet Isaiah insists, under God’s ruler there will be no incompetence, no corruption, no violence – only peace. Could it be true? A leader who draws his people from the nations. Isaiah doesn’t stop there, for in verses 10 though 16 he portrays people coming from all parts of the world, like a scattered army, to rally around this ruler. It will be a victorious, redeemed community, he says (11:15). People will come from the East and the West. Highways will be built to God’s City so that people from every nation can come. It’s a vivid and poetic picture. Understandably we ask, ‘Could it happen?’ ‘Who is this root of Jesse, this ruler to whom the people rally, who will restore creation to its pristine harmony?’ Jesus. Some seven hundred years before Jesus came, Isaiah predicted the first coming of God’s king as well as his return. This is one of the amazing things about the Bible that convinces me that it is what it says it is – namely, God’s deliberate, progressive, self-revelation. Centuries before Jesus came, Isaiah opened a window on Jesus’ life and work. Wise men did come from the Far East to pay him homage at his birth. And people from around the world have been coming to him ever since his death and resurrection. The Gospel writers reveal that Jesus not only taught but backed up his words with action that showed God’s compassion for a sick and sorry world. He fed the hungry, healed the sick, and dealt with the powers of evil. As the New Testament unfolds, we learn that the coming of God’s king is in two parts: his first coming was a rescue operation; his return will reveal the king in all his might, majesty dominion and power. He will bring his perfect justice to bear and, with the unveiling of his own glory, will reveal the glory of all who have truly

Isaiah's foretelling of the coming of Messiah, God's King - our Hope.

Philippians 4:4-9 - Giving thanks to the Lord in all things - and knowing the peace of God which passes all understanding.

‘Thanksgiving’ in America is one of the delights Judith and I experienced when we moved to New York in 2001. Despite the evil events of September 11 that year, people at the Thanksgiving Dinner we attended expressed their thanks for the way the Lord had used the events of 9/11 to build their trust in him. When we think about it, thanksgiving is a theme that permeates the Bible – especially the Psalms. And while we do live in an uncertain world, there is still much for which to be thankful. Come with me to Paul the Apostle’s Letter to the Philippians, chapter 4, verses 4 through 9. Rejoice: Rejoice in the Lord always; Paul exhorts. And, as he doesn’t want us to skim over this, he repeats it, Again, I say, Rejoice. Paul was in prison when he wrote these words. He is repeating his earlier exhortation, Rejoice in the Lord (3:1). God wants us to so value our relationship with Jesus Christ that we long for the smile of his approval in all we do. Nothing else matters. He is our joy. Now notice Paul doesn’t say we are to rejoice in the Lord in all circumstances – some situations may be evil. Rather, we should rejoice that the Lord still has his hand on the helm of the world’s events and our personal affairs, working out his good purposes for his people. It challenges us to ask if we trust him in every situation – be it the loss of a job, disappointments, or sobering medical news. Furthermore, in exhorting us to rejoice, he is not speaking about our being happy, always having a smile on our face. The joy he speaks about is the deep inner peace and contentment that springs from a personal trust in Jesus. For this reason, he urges us to pray with thankfulness in our hearts: Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. Don’t be anxious … Timeless words and a universal remedy for anxiety. So, Paul urges us to pray for concerns about life; petition the Lord with our particular needs, with thankfulness in our hearts for his goodness and mercy. Here is the antidote to anxiety and the prelude to the experience of peace. Such prayer and thanksgiving express trust in God in every situation. Let me ask, can you honestly say you are assured that Jesus is not only in control but that he truly loves and cares for you? Peace. In verse 7 we read: And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus, and in verse 9: …And the God of peace will be with you. Peace, Shalom is a word of security. Paul was in prison for his faith when he wrote these words. He knew what it was to be anxious, even fearful about life’s disappointments. He knew the barbs that can hurt – be they lies or literal persecution. Encouragingly he speaks about God’s peace guarding our hearts and minds. Guard in this context conveys the positive idea of protection. As a Roman citizen, he may have had in mind the Praetorian Guard. It’s a great thought – God’s ‘Praetorian Guard’ providing security for our hearts and minds, and so giving us peace. Furthermore, heart is the Bible’s way of speaking of what is deep within us – our desires and will, our emotions and our very soul. And mind refers to our thoughts that spring from our inner longings. Now, if we remove God’s promise of peace from its biblical context, the idea of peace is lovely but without substance. Peace in the Bible is meaningful and profound, true and full of strength. The God of peace is the one who has made peace possible between himself and you and me. On the day of his resurrection, Christ met with his disciples in a locked upper room. ‘Peace be with you’ were his first words. It wasn’t a conventional greeting, for he immediately repeated it. The God of peace is also the God of power. It is the God of peace who brought again from the dead, our Lord Jesus. The resurrection of Jesus is the New Testament standard for God’s mighty power. Peace is associated with the kind of power that not even death can stand against. These great promises are grounded in the peace that God himself has secured. Through Jesus’ death and resurrection he is the author of just and everlasting peace. How much there is for which we can be thankful. Is this real for you? How often do you express your thankfulness? Just at Thanksgiving? Or every day? A General Thanksgiving. Almighty God, Father of all mercies, we your unworthy servants give humble and hearty thanks for all your goodness and loving kindness to us and to all people. We bless you for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life; but above all for your amazing love in the redemption of the world through our Lord Jesus Christ; for the means of grace and for the hope of glory. And, we pray, give us that due sense of all your mercies, that our hearts may be truly thankful, and that we may declare your praise not only with our lips, but in our lives, by giving up ourselves to your service, and by walking before you in

Philippians 4 - Giving thanks to God in everything and then knowing God's peace, which passes all understanding.

No, I’m not talking about Gramercy Park, New York City – although I’ll come back to that. I’m referring to an old English word, gramercy, used by Shakespeare, that is derived from the French, grand mercy, meaning ‘heartfelt, big thanks’. That said, the name ‘Gramercy’ for the only locked private park in New York was derived from the Dutch, Krom Moerasje, ‘little crooked swamp’ – which is what the park originally was. Now permit me a personal note about Judith’s and my ‘heartfelt thanks’ following September 11, 2001. That day we were living Downtown in the New York City financial district, quite near the Twin Towers. With the destruction of the towers, our apartment building was in the original Ground Zero. We needed to find a new place to live. Unexpectedly, I received a call asking if we would be interested in moving to an apartment in the Gramercy area. ‘Yes, please!’ How heartfelt our thanks were – to the Lord and to the phone-caller. For us ‘gramercy’ took us back to the earlier English meaning. It also reminded us of the ‘big thanks’ everyone of us owes God. Consider the scene of Jesus’ crucifixion in Luke chapter 23, beginning at verse 33. Two others, criminals, were crucified with Jesus at a place known as The Skull (which in Latin is calvaria, hence our ‘Calvary’). The positioning of Jesus between these two seems a deliberate way of implying that he was just another criminal. This also fulfilled the prophecy: He was numbered with the transgressors (Isaiah 53:12). We can identify two important themes – a prayer and a promise. A Prayer. Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing’ (23:34). Everyone watching that day knew Jesus was innocent. They knew the injustice of it all. So, for whom was he praying? Some suggest his prayer was for the soldiers, but in that case he might have said, ‘Father, understand their situation’. They were doing their duty. Others say his prayer was for the Jewish leaders who had stirred events that led to his crucifixion. We make better sense of the prayer when we read it all: ‘for they do not know what they are doing’. Jesus was praying for people who shut their minds to the voice of truth. Yes, he was praying for the Jewish leaders who taunted him (23:35). And he was praying for the Roman soldiers who mocked him as the ‘King of the Jews’ (23:36f). Significantly, with his prayer he was putting into practice the law of neighbor love that he had spoken about in his parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:28-34). In his hour of crisis, he prayed for others and forgave them their ignorance. But, he was also praying for his followers and the watching crowd. And, let me suggest he was praying then for you and me now. At one time or another we have all have mocked the dying Christ. Deep down all of us have rejected his claims to be our Lord. An inscription stating the charges against Jesus, was put over his head in accord with normal Roman practice. Significantly, Pilate wrote: This is the King of the Jews (23:38). He quoted back to the Jewish leaders their accusation against Jesus. In doing so, the Roman governor was also stating the deeper truth we find in Luke’s narrative: Jesus is the king of the Jews. He is the Messiah and the Lord. This theme is illustrated in the conversation that follows. A Promise. One of the criminals being crucified with Jesus was contemptuous: ‘Are you not the Christ?’ he mocked. ‘Save yourself and us!’ (23:39). He chose to die as he had lived – dismissive of anything religious. Even his colleague was shocked, ‘Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation?’ he said (23:40). As a minister who has been at the bedside of many dying people, it is tragic to witness this kind of death. There is no peace and no hope of the future. The second criminal chose another path: ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom,’ he asked (23:42). Now this man’s life was no better than his colleague’s. He freely admitted that he and his colleague deserved to die – ‘receiving the due reward of our deeds’ (23:41). Yet, as he died, he reflected on his own unworthiness compared with the innocence he recognized within Jesus. His conscience was stirred. Something about Jesus impressed him. It may have been the sharp contrast between Jesus’ prayer and the bitter anger of his colleague. He knew Jesus was innocent: ‘This man has done nothing wrong,’ he said (23:41). However bad his life may have been, he feared God enough to recognize his need. The simplicity and directness of his requests are striking. He isn’t religious or pretentious. He may have remembered what he was taught as a boy about God, and about God’s promise that one day he would send a successor to the great King David. Perhaps he began to see that Jesus was that king, and so he asked the king for a place in his kingdom – when Jesus was enthroned. His repentance came in the closing hours of his life; his faith may have been no bigger than a mustard s

Luke 23:33ff - Gramercy - Great Mercy, as shown in Jesus' words to the repentant thief beside him on the cross.

History and archaeology documentaries have made us more aware of past civilizations and the splendor of their buildings. However, while ancient buildings can be awe-inspiring, they testify to the rise and fall of nations. No matter how great an empire may have been, no matter how rich its accomplishments or powerful its armies, it didn’t last. All of which makes Jesus’ response to his disciples comment about the magnificence of the Jerusalem Temple significant. During the week leading up to his arrest, they remarked on the magnificence of the Temple: …Some were speaking of the temple, how it was adorned with noble stones and offerings (Luke 21:5). At the time, the Jerusalem Temple was some fifty years into an eighty-three year reconstruction facilitated by Herod the Great. The temple was immense, constructed of massive stones – some over sixty feet in length. It covered a thirty-five acre site, more than twice the size of the original World Trade Centre Twin Towers site in New York City. Tacitus, a contemporary Roman historian, commented on the grandeur, the beauty and wealth of the Temple (History 5.8.1). Luke himself notes the extensive decoration that adorned it. The unexpected. Jesus’ response to the disciples’ comment was unexpected: ‘…the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down’ (21:6). Just as it would have been outrageous for anyone to have predicted the destruction of the Twin Towers in New York City before September 11, 2001, it would have been even more so for Jesus to say the temple would be razed to the ground. As N.T. Wright observes, ‘The temple occupied central place in the life, religion and imagination of the Jewish people’ (Wright, NT., Luke for everyone (2001), p.251). The temple signified God’s presence with his people. It was also the place where sacrifices to atone for the sins of the people were made. Foreshadowing its destruction, Jesus pointed to the obsolescence of what the Temple materially represented in terms of God and his people. Earlier in his ministry, Jesus warned of catastrophic events yet to come (Luke 12:35-48; 17:20-37). It’s therefore not surprising the disciples asked: “Teacher, when will these things be, and what will be the sign when these things are about to take place?” (Luke 21:7). Their words, these things, are key to the themes that unfold. Three of the Gospel writers, Matthew, Mark and Luke, record Jesus’ words about the last things. However, there are differences. Matthew and Mark for example, weave together Jesus’ words about Jerusalem and the end of time, making it difficult to unravel the themes. Luke however, sets out the two scenes more clearly – perhaps because he writes primarily for a non-Jewish readership. Central to Jesus’ response about the timing of these things are his words: ‘…And when you hear of wars and tumults, do not be terrified, for these things must first take place, but the end will not be at once’ (21:9). He restates a tension he had already spoken of, namely the tension between immediacy and delay regarding the timing of events (Luke 12:41-48 and Luke 19:11-15). He expands this by identifying the first two sets of events that we should expect as, under God, the world moves towards an end time: convulsions and persecutions. Convulsions (21:8-11). He begins with a specific warning about false prophets who will come in his name making predictions about the end of time. Don’t be taken by surprise, he continues. There will be an end of time, but before that ‘nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and pestilences. And there will be terrors and great signs from heaven’ (21:10f). Jesus warns of wars and conflicts. Three years ago, who would have expected a global pandemic and, twelve months ago, the Russian invasion of Ukraine? Furthermore, Jesus also warns of natural disasters and upheavals. Consistently he taught that by our own efforts we are not good enough to create a world of universal peace. Nor can we control the massive forces that lie beneath the earth’s crust – forces of such magnitude that cause earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. We should not be taken by surprise by the rise and fall of nations as well as seismic and climatic events. As Paul the Apostle writes in Romans chapter 8, verses 21 and 22, the present creation is subject to decay and groans in travail awaiting the day when we will enjoy the perfect fulfilment of all God’s promises. Why is it that we live with our eyes so focused on life now that we fail to walk in the light and wisdom of the Lord? Persecutions (21:12-19). Jesus also warns of occasions when God’s people will be marked out as undesirables – some will be imprisoned and even brought before the heads of state. However, he assures us, we will not be alone. He will equip us with any defence that might be needed: ‘settle it therefore in your minds not to meditate beforehand how to

Jesus predicts the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem and warns of political and climatic upheaval.

One of the conundrums of life is the oft irrational hostility towards the Christian faith. Yes, sadly some professing Christians have carried out terrible abuses. But the big picture is that over the centuries God’s people have shown care and compassion for the poor and the needy – exemplifying a facet of the public ministry of Jesus – seeking the welfare of the city (Jeremiah 29:7). Ironically, but perhaps not surprisingly, the media in all its forms chooses to overlook such welfare. I say ‘not surprisingly’ because people in every generation want to cut down anyone who threatens them. The Jewish leadership felt threatened by Jesus of Nazareth. So much so that they endeavored to trap him with gotcha questions which could discredit and destroy him. This was increasingly evident during the days before the Passover – at the time of Jesus’ crucifixion. In Luke chapter 20, verse 25 Jesus had responded to the question, ‘Teacher, … is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor?’ with ‘… Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s’. Confounded by his answer they were silenced (Luke 20:26). Nevertheless, despite this unexpected setback, the aggressive questioning continued. This time the Sadducees, another group of Jewish leaders, pressed him on the subject of the resurrection. The Sadducees were conservative aristocrats. The high priests were drawn from this group. Willing to work with the Roman authorities, their privileges were protected. However, they were treated with suspicion by Jewish loyalists and pious Jewish people. In his Antiquities Josephus tells us that the Sadducees only accepted the written Scripture, not oral tradition which the Pharisees accepted (xiii.297; xviii.16). However, the Sadducees denied life after death and therefore, resurrection. This was the question on which they challenged Jesus (Luke chapter 20, verse 28). Using the law that required the brother of a man who died childless to take his brother’s wife in marriage (levirate law), the Sadducees framed their question. Yet, given that there are only a few recorded occasions of levirate marriage – one being that of Ruth and Boaz (Ruth 4:5, 21) – and that the practice seems to have been dropped by the time of the New Testament, their question was more hypothetical than real. They posed the situation of seven brothers successively marrying the same woman. None of the marriages produced any children. In turn they asked Jesus whose wife the woman would be in the resurrection (20:29-33). Implying there could be no answer to their question, they used it to argue there could no resurrection. But Jesus responded: ‘Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage’ (20:34). His implication is clear. Given the successive marriages portrayed by the Sadducees, Jesus affirms the norm and the appropriateness of marriage between a man and woman. Significantly, in saying this he also confirms the creation order of Genesis 2:24. But he didn’t stop there. He continued by contrasting our present experience and that in the life to come: “Those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage…” (20:35). In a tightly worded sentence he affirmed the reality of life beyond death and also the resurrection. ‘Life in the age to come will be significantly different for all who are considered worthy,’ he says. Not everyone will experience the new age and the resurrection. His words here are consistent with the movement of thought that unfolds in Luke: only those who have been rescued (Luke 19:10) will enjoy life and resurrection in the coming age. Marriage as we know it will no longer apply. It will no longer be needed for ‘they cannot die any more…’ (20:36b). One of the reasons for marriage is the procreation of children in a world where everyone dies. But in a world where death no longer reigns, marriage and the birth of children is unnecessary. Notice Jesus didn’t say they no longer die but rather, they cannot die. In the coming age we will share something in common with the angels: ‘… they are like angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrection’ (20:36c). So important was the question of resurrection that Jesus used the opportunity to point out that it was implied in the Old Testament. Drawing from the scene when God revealed his name to Moses (Exodus 3:15), Jesus drew attention to God’s description of himself as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob (20:37). Jesus then drew out the logic of God’s words, saying: “Now he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive” (20:38). Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were long dead when Moses was alive. The statement that God is the God of these men, can only be true if they are alive, even though they have died. The alternative is to say that God is the God of people who no longer exist, which is nonsense. Luke then includes wor