Study Guide – Life of Christ: Kingdom Proclaimed 14
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If the tomb wasn’t empty…
the Old Testament would have been wrong in its predictions
the Sanhedrin would have been correct
in its charge of blaspheme
the soldiers’ mocking would have been on target
Peter’s triple denial would have seemed prudent
Cleopas and his friend would have arrived in Emmaus
without company and would not have been left to console each other in their confusion and disappointment
the women would have anointed a deceased Jesus
with spices and returned to the other disciples
to comfort one another in their grief
the Hebrew of Hebrews Saul would not have changed his
name to Paul and the phrase “a Damascus Road experience” wouldn’t mean anything
John 14:6 wouldn’t have been written and
if it had it would have been a lie
we would have no reason to celebrate
either Christmas or Easter
like all other religions, Christianity would be
a human construct invented to give us
definition and pseudo hope
life on this side of death would have been all there is
but …
the tomb was empty
Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!
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.
john 14:25
The Crying King
Imagine being in love—the deep, authentic, wanting-the-very-best-for-the-other-person kind of love—only to be rejected. Imagine having the power to rescue your beloved from their self-destructive ways—to pull them out of their deadly addiction into full and complete wellbeing—only to be rejected. Imagine that you’ve traveled farther than anyone could possibly comprehend and at great personal sacrifice so that your beloved could experience intimacy with you—an intimacy for which they declared a longing many times over—only to be rejected. Imagine your beloved—those for whom you’d sacrifice everything—coming into your father’s house and treating your father and the space with contempt and disrespect. Imagine seeing your beloved celebrate your presence with them one day but knowing that within less than a week they would choose fellowship with a violent criminal rather than spending more time with you.
Jesus approached Jerusalem on a colt. As he came to the path leading down the Mount of Olives, his followers were laying down their coats and some tree branches, paving the way for their king. His campaign had consisted of a number of healings and some provocative, authoritative teaching. He hadn’t won any victories with swords, shields, and spears but simply with his words and his will and with grace and truth. Rome still ruled the land, but no one really seemed to grasp that Jesus ruled Rome and all other visible and invisible powers.
Rather than being swept away in the coronations of his followers or turning aside because of their fickle hearts, Jesus responded with tears. The Word made flesh, the Son of God and Son of David, the Messiah, the King of Kings cried. He looked upon Jerusalem and wept. He was entering the place where God had called King David to establish the king’s throne and build the king’s house. It was where King Solomon had erected God’s temple, where God had promised to meet with a representative of his people in person once each year. It was the center of the life and religion of God’s people. Yet, its inhabitants would fail to recognize God when he showed up as Jesus. Rather than being a place marked by shalom, the peace that passes all understanding—God’s peace, the great center of God’s people would soon be marked by nothing more than rubble. And so Jesus cried.
What would Jesus find if instead of riding into Jerusalem today he were to ride into your life? Would he discover someone who has discovered and chosen to treasure his love and grace and forgiveness, or would he find someone whose heart is marked more by fear or by personal fancies? Would he hear shouts of praise, only to discover that the praises turn into denials when he gets too close? Would he find a heart and hands yielded to his work or a life focused more on the business of the day than on the business of his Father? Would he discover one who lives for him or one who lives for himself or for herself? Would he have reason to laugh, smile, and rejoice, or would what he finds more likely cause him to weep?
Jesus will return. The next time he comes he won’t be riding on a colt but on a cloud. He chose to emphasize his humility last time. Next time, he’s promised to emphasize his power. Upon his return, let it be that he finds us ready for his arrival, living and sharing his peace throughout our city and throughout his world.
To Hocus or to Focus?
Okay, so Jesus—before he suffered and died and rose from the dead—provided some eleventh hour teaching. He pulled his disciples aside and warned them of things to come and of the importance of paying attention. They were the ones who actually asked for it. They wanted to know what to expect. The question for us, however, is whether Jesus intended to hocus or to focus?
You’ve undoubtedly heard of the word “hocus.” It’s the front half of the phrase “hocus pocus,” a phrase first made popular by William Vincent in the early 1600’s. Vincent was a magician/juggler in the court of King James who used “hocus pocus” both as his stage name and the entry phrase to his incantations. To come up with this tricky name, some say that Vincent actually twisted the Latin words for “this is my body,” a phrase more at home in a worship service than in a juggling act. “Hocus” now finds its place in dictionaries with the definition of “to fool” or “to trick.”
Was that what Jesus was doing when he told the 12 disciples about wars and earthquakes, about dark days and his return on “clouds of heaven,” and about the need to remain watchful and to keep living the love he had shown them? After all, it’s been nearly 2000 years, and Jesus still hasn’t returned. Sure, there have been earthquakes and wars, but there were earthquakes and wars before the time of Christ, too. Does Christianity in the end simply amount to a bunch of hocus pocus, to one big trick perpetrated by a Jewish carpenter?
It’s not an out-of-line question. Biblical Christianity calls adherents to prioritize Jesus and his teachings above everything else in life. With that kind of demand, it’s only appropriate to ask if it’s all true or not. Unfortunately, proving Christianity true is not only beyond the scope of a one-column article in a church newsletter, but is beyond the reach of all the authors everywhere who have ever written on the subject of faith, Christianity, and Jesus. It’s not that data doesn’t exist. On the contrary, the raw data backing up the integrity of biblical claims far exceeds any other ancient writings. Yet even with the voluminous amounts of supporting evidence, Christianity remains dependent on faith. It’s a believer’s religion.
One of the funny things about believers is that we can be more hocus than focus. It’s rather ironic that many of us who claim to see in Jesus’ words of prophecy and warning a clear call to focus end up being among those whose practice of Christianity is full of smoke and mirrors and slights of hand. These are they who speak faith in Jesus but live not the way of Jesus. This tendency is exactly what Jesus directs his attention to in his conversations with his disciples near the end of the Gospel of Matthew. He essentially tells them to focus, focus. Anticipating all the distractions we would face over the centuries, all the false claims of various gurus and would-be-messiahs, the plethora of common and special days alike, Jesus warns his followers and instructs them to focus on feeding hungry people, hydrating thirsty people, clothing naked people, welcoming strange people, and visiting sick and imprisoned people.
So what will it be for you—hocus or focus? Eleven of the original twelve disciples heeded Christ’s words and his call. They chose to focus. The lone exception chose his own bath of hocus pocus and betrayed not only the words of Christ but Christ himself. It’s still the eleventh hour. May our decision be clear to everyone we see. Let us be known for our doubled focus on Christ and on showing his love rather than the hocus pocus required to look Christian while choosing not to live Christian.
Oh, my God!
It could be that when you first read the title of this piece you were a little concerned: Is the pastor taking the Lord’s name in vain? Please rest assured that the punctuation has prevented such a thing. Nonetheless, the more common form—the one without the comma—is an often-used proclamation in those times when someone has seen, heard, or experienced something extraordinary. It could be anything from tasting the perfect vanilla latte to hearing the cutest man ever speak those four magical words, “Will you marry me?”
There is good reason, however, for the form with the comma to be on the lips of each and every follower of God on a daily basis. The God we follow is not some distant God who shows up every couple of thousands of years to split seas and raise people from the dead. He’s not a one-day-a-week God either. The God of the Bible—the only God that there is—is at work constantly. It’s who he is. Whether it’s creating and sustaining life, meeting people in their needs, or listening to our prayers, God is a working, active, energetic being.
It is true, though, that this God of ours is known for doing some pretty weird stuff, too. In addition to parting seas, he’s been known to make a donkey speak, the sun stand still, and whole countries do his bidding. “Oh, my God!” seems like a very appropriate response to these types of wonders. Take the time that Jesus invited Peter, James, and John to witness the presence of Moses, Elijah, and a transformed version of himself. What would you have said? Peter got all goofy. In his excitement, he offered to make them each a tent. It would have been more fitting for him to have simply said, “Oh, my God!”
So whether God is doing the kind of stuff that makes it into blockbuster movies or doing the little stuff that fits wonderfully into and around your life, it’s given to us simply to recognize it—to give God the props he’s due. Take a look. See if you can see the hand of God doing the works of God. When you catch him in the act, speak up. Let him know that you recognize his handiwork. If you’re at a loss for words, you can always go the way of Peter and offer to build God some tents, but it probably makes more sense simply to give God an ol’ “Oh, my God!” or an “I see!” or a “There you go again!”
My Way or God’s Way: No Room for Negotiation
I’ve got some good news, and I’ve got some bad news. Actually, if we grasp the good news, the bad news isn’t really all that bad. In fact, it actually turns out to be pretty darn good, but it all depends on grasping the greatness of the good news.
Good news, it seems, can come in all shapes and sizes. Good news can be as simple as the newspaper deliverer landing the daily publication smack dab in the middle of your front doorstep. Good news also includes the message your doctor brings when he declares, “The tumor is benign.” So if good news can be anything from having enough mustard to cover your whole hotdog to having enough income to cover this month’s expenses, we initially might not be all that impressed when someone says that they have good news to share with us.
To further diminish expectations regarding the true goodness of good news, one person’s good news isn’t necessarily the best news for someone else. “Good news! I just got the job you were fired from.” Regardless of how great the news is to someone else, we still have to evaluate what the news means for us. It’s not exactly helpful when your next door neighbor tells you, “Good news! They just announced this morning the construction of a toxic waste dump across the street, but don’t worry—we sold our house yesterday.” Good for them, but not so good for you.
Yet, there does seem to be some news that is universally good. For instance, it’s universally good news that there is more than enough oxygen in our atmosphere today to allow all of us to breathe freely. There is also universal good news found in Matthew 16. When Peter answers correctly that Jesus is Christ—the anointed one of God sent to save people to God—the news is known, the greatest good news is spoken. The saving God has sent us our Savior.
Not many sentences later, however, Jesus finishes the announcement. Sure, he’s the Christ, but the Christ came into the world to die, and those who would be his followers will have to take up their crosses and follow him. What? If your good news meter just pegged to zero, you’re not alone. Peter the Proclaimer had the same response and quickly became Peter the Rebuker: “No way, Jesus, this can’t happen to you.” Jesus quieted him quickly and then told everyone that following him would mean losing themselves.
So, how does losing oneself become good news? In God’s economy it works. Gaining Christ is everything; it’s beyond everything. Gaining Christ means being loved by God, saved from death, forgiven from sin, joined with the Spirit, set free to live fully, and welcomed into eternity. Losing a dead-end, worldly, self-focused, self-obsessed, self-dependent life is nothing compared to the surpassing greatness of being a friend of Christ, a son or daughter of God, and heir to the kingdom. Good news! When you get Jesus, you also get to finally live. Good news and more good news, that’s the nature of the good news about Jesus.
