Jesus Wept?

People who know a little about the Bible know that John 11:35 is the shortest verse in the English Bible: “Jesus wept.” I was challenged by yesterday’s sermon to turn it into a question, and the search for the answer will not be short. There are several opinions as to why Jesus wept; the one I will suggest as most likely will not be familiar to many.

The most obvious answer to why Jesus wept is that He was saddened by Lazarus’ death. This seems logical at first glance, but two things mitigate against it in my mind. First, Jesus had deliberately postponed His coming to Bethany so that Lazarus would die; He told His disciples this plainly (vv. 14-15). It doesn’t make sense to me that the Healer would cry over something He had orchestrated. The second problem I find in the sadness explanation is that Jesus also knew what he was about to do. It is clear what Jesus response to Martha meant when He said, “Your brother will rise again.” She thought Jesus was referring to the expected resurrection of the righteous; Jesus had earlier plans for her brother.

Another explanation for Jesus’ weeping is that He was following the cultural expectation of His day. The Greek word chosen by John means to literally shed tears, perhaps even silently. This was not the “weeping” of the culture. The Jews traditionally mourned their dead with vocal weeping; sometimes “professional” weepers would be hired to make the departed one seem more missed than he truly was. I doubt this was the case with Lazarus, as he was apparently well-known and loved. Although Jesus did care for Lazarus and his sisters, it seems unlikely to me that He would take this opportunity to do something merely for sake of appearance. In every other situation I can think of, Jesus was remarkably callous toward empty cultural practices.

Lazarus’ pain of death is another suggested cause for Jesus’ tears. Some think the human expression of grief was another signal of the dual nature of the Messiah: He would raise his friend, but he could shed a tear over the circumstance. Others suggest that Jesus was weeping over the unbelief of those close to Him who didn’t appear to grasp His ability to deal with the present situation. This last explanation comes closest to what I think was the reason Jesus wept.

There are two words in the Greek language of verse 33 that help me understand what Jesus was feeling. The first is sometimes translated “deeply moved;” the KJV says he “groaned.” The NLT gets the closest, I think, to the Greek word ἐμβριμάομαι saying, “a deep anger welled up within him.” We are told this “anger” was “in [his] spirit” and that it “troubled him.” The word for “troubled” is ταράσσω. It means stirred up; metaphorically it could mean disquieted or distressed in one’s mind or, in this case, One’s spirit. The deepest part of Jesus’ being was indignant to the point of distress; he wept.

Here is what I think was happening. Jesus wasn’t just there when the human race was begun in the Garden of Eden; He created it all. (John 1:1-4) He knew that death was not part of the perfect state of humans. He knew that a sinister force had tricked Adam and Eve into abandoning their complete dependence on their Creator and exchanging it for an independence that would lead to death. He also knew that the curse on creation was about to be undone by His work at Calvary. In other words, He knew the enemy, and He knew what had to be done to defeat him. He wept.

Because Jesus is the perfect representation of who God is, this tells us something astounding about God. He weeps. He cares that we are in a sin-stained, broken world that sometimes leaves sisters confused and grief-stricken over their dead brother. He cares when our relationships go south. He cares when evil persons visit violence on others. Even though He knows that ultimately He wins, He weeps.

Mary and Martha might have taken comfort in Jesus’ tears; they undoubtedly rejoiced in Lazarus’ resurrection. They probably forgot that Jesus seemed to discount their concern when He delayed his return. That is the lesson for us: it may seem like God hasn’t been there or didn’t care when we needed Him, but He is always there, and He always cares. It may be a comfort to know that in your painfully dark hour when you were crying out to Him, Jesus didn’t ignore you; Jesus wept.

Doing Things by Grace

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4:16)

Each day my computer generates a list of people, places and things to pray for. I choose a Bible verse or passage that strikes me as important to pray over my list. Today, my regular Bible reading had me in Hebrews, and I turned 4:16 into this prayer: “[May you] hold firmly to what [you] believe [and] come boldly to the throne of our gracious God [to] receive his mercy, and find grace to help [you] when [you] need it most.”

The Greek says we “receive” (λαμβάνω) mercy, but we “find” (εὑρίσκω) grace. I know I have a tendency to make more of semantics than may be necessary, but the choice of these two words, and the way they complement each other sparked my interest. First, lambano (λαμβάνω) has a variety of meanings, receive being one legitimate way to translate it. Another word often used in translating it is “take.” Strong’s lexicon has an interesting note on this: “to take by craft (our catch, used of hunters, fisherman, etc.). Mercy is there “for the taking,” as we might say.

The word used by the writer of Hebrews for “find” (eurisko, εὑρίσκω) is also fascinating. Again, Strong’s has this to say in part, “to find by enquiry, thought, examination, scrutiny, observation, to find out by practice and experience.” I do not mean to suggest that we somehow work to find grace. Grace is freely given by God to all. However, I know in my life it has taken some “practice and experience” to find grace. I have a natural tendency to do things my way instead of the “grace-way.”

I suspect I am not alone in struggling to live by grace. The so-called American way is to pull oneself up by one’s own bootstraps as they say. The image of that old adage is instructive: pulling on one’s bootstraps will only make the boots too tight; little will be accomplished as far as getting “up,” wherever that may be. This is a good picture of what happens when we try to do something in our own human power instead of relying on God’s gracious provision of His infinite power.

The writer of Hebrews encourages us to, “come boldly unto the throne of grace” as the KJV puts it. The ESV says we should draw near, “with confidence.” Boldness comes with the confidence that we will be well received. Due to the work of our forerunner, Jesus, we have such confidence, but often we either ignore the offer of grace, or we forget that it has been made. I don’t intend to shame anyone, (least of all myself), but don’t we belittle the work of Christ for us when we refuse the free gift of grace He bought for us?

I am challenged by this thought. I share the challenge with you, my reader. Let’s drop the bootstrap analogy and practice the new one given to us “new creations.” If we fish the mercy out of the ocean of promises God offers, and then we thoughtfully apply the grace of God to our tasks, there is no limit to what we can accomplish. Literally, no limit; that’s what infinite means, and God’s grace is infinite.

Ruthless Mercy

I had been contemplating something that I knew would result in another blog post soon. Then in church yesterday, we looked at the Beatitude in Matthew 5:8, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” The sermon not only gave me much to think about, it gave me the title for this post.

Here’s the plot: A powerful man has an adulterous affair with his neighbor’s wife who becomes pregnant as a result. To cover his tracks, the adulterer has the adulteress’s husband murdered. In a turn of what must be poetic justice, the child of the sordid affair dies shortly after birth. Later, another child is born to the same couple, and he rises to the highest levels of power in the world. Apparently plagued by the same problem with lust as his father, the son also complicates his life with multiple intimate relationships. In a tragic irony, his children ignore his wishes and after he dies, they destroy everything he and their grandfather had built.

Most of you reading this were not fooled into thinking it was the plot of the latest Hollywood blockbuster, but rather the story of David and Solomon, two “heroes” of the Bible if there ever were such a thing. Two heroes, by the way, who were specially blessed by God in almost unimaginable ways. David was a giant-slayer; Solomon was the wisest man who ever lived. In their writings, both give God the credit for their accomplishments. Even though they were giants among men, their problems were gigantic as well.

If these two were the only examples of morally fallen heroes, it would be notable, but unusual. It’s not unusual at all, strangely enough. Start with Abraham: he slept with his wife’s servant… at her request. His son, Isaac, pulled a fast one on his father-in-law to increase his own wealth. Isaac’s son cheated and lied his way into stealing his older brother’s lawful inheritance (with the collusion of their mother). The prophet Jonah ran the opposite direction when God called him to Nineveh. The Apostle Peter denied Christ three times on what was arguably the most important night of his life. And that’s not a complete list. The lineage of the Messiah himself is peopled by a whore, an incestuous daughter-in-law, and a prohibited union with foreigner. Sheesh!

At first it seems counter-intuitive to have the record of God’s redemptive history peppered with so many downright unsavory personalities. It seems like the people of God should be stainless saints, models of good behavior. They are anything but that. In fact, they look just like normal people; dare I say, they look just like me. Samson, the one super-hero who shows up has so many bad characteristics that it is almost embarrassing to call him one of God’s chosen – but he was.

The Bible clearly says that God’s ways are beyond figuring out; his thoughts are as far above mine as the sky is high. Yet the Scripture also says that God knows exactly what he is doing in all things, and that his purposes cannot be thwarted – even by deeply flawed humans. In fact, God seems to revel in using deeply flawed humans to accomplish his will. That’s probably a good thing, since flawed humans are all he has to work with if he is going to use any of us. That is precisely my point.

None of us can say, “God couldn’t use me; I’m too (fill in the blank).” If God only used perfect people, his one chance has come and gone (although he is coming again!). It looks to me as if God chooses to use a certain kind of imperfect person. David will serve as an example. Scripture calls David a man after God’s own heart (this after he messed up royally). Because David was such a prolific writer, we can see his attitude toward his self-confessed waywardness: he was contrite; he was repentant. Read Psalm 51 if you want one example.

You might also want to read Psalm 139, another penned by David. The reason David could remain a man after God’s own heart is because of what he prayed in Psalm 139. In the first verse David admits that God knows him inside and out, but especially inside. In the last verse David prays that God would share what he knows: “if there be any wicked way in me.” David knew that his loving Heavenly Father would find the dirt inside, and cleanse it (Psalm 51). David knew he couldn’t hide anything anywhere, so he submitted himself to God’s cleansing.

Being prepared for service by God can be scary. In church yesterday, Pastor Troy Champ used the analogy of turning over rocks to uncover all the creepy things that hide there. In “Not Our Father’s God” I recalled C. S. Lewis’ picture of the lion Aslan as a figure of Christ who is not tame, but safe. In Voyage of the Dawntreader Lewis has another powerful picture of the work God will do if we let him. The wayward child, Eustace, had turned into a dragon as a result of his sinful ways. Aslan offers to lovingly remove the dragon flesh, a process which Eustace describes as both painful and delightful. It is never fun to discover the things that hide in the dark places of our souls, but it is necessary to become the “pure in heart” Jesus identified in the Beatitude.

Someone said that God loves us just as we are, but loves us too much to leave us the way we are. That is a good thing; that is how we become clay in the Potter’s hand so we can be shaped into vessels for his use. God is tirelessly seeking to conform us into the image of his son. Troy referred to this loving pursuit by God as his ruthless mercy. He does not give us what we deserve, that’s his ruthless mercy. But in his boundless grace, he makes us the best we can be if we only let him. Bring it on, God of mercy; bring it on.

To Love Mercy

If you are a regular reader, you know I have written several times about the importance of love, agape love particularly. (See "The Pursuit of..." or "Goodness of Wrath" ) This morning at my home church for this winter, Capital Church, Salt Lake City, pastor Troy Champ brought something to my attention that I hadn’t seen exactly this way before. I have stressed that the agape love of the New Testament is unlike the love of Hollywood or even that of many warm, fuzzy churches. Agape love is a love of the will – it is more than an emotion, although emotion is not absent (See More Than a Feeling). This morning, I saw a picture of how God demonstrates the love that agape replicates.

We are in a series on the Beatitudes, this morning landing on verse seven of Matthew five, blessed are the merciful. Troy brought us back to the Old Testament to see what mercy looks like. To understand the New Testament meaning of the Greek word Matthew used for mercy , eleos (ἔλεος), we looked at the three Hebrew words the Greek Old Testament (Septuagint) translated as “mercy” (ἔλεος). One Hebrew verse uses all three, Psalm 103:8: “The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” Each Hebrew word has something to teach us, but it is the third, hesed (חָסַד), translated “steadfast love” in this verse that struck me this morning.

Troy pointed out that hesed is God’s covenant love for His people. (Ligonier has a good article on this.) Typically, a covenant is between two parties, but as we see regarding the covenant with Abraham (Genesis 15), God pretty much takes both parts. He’s basically saying, no matter what you do on your side, I will be faithful on my side. That sums up Old Testament history completely. Israel repeatedly broke their side of the covenant, but God remained faithful. At the Cross of Calvary, God said, “It is finished” through the God-Man, Jesus Christ, meaning the covenant promise was fulfilled.

The reason this teaches us about mercy is that God showed His love for us “while we were still sinners.” In other words, mercy takes no measure of the worthiness of the object of mercy. To be merciful is to show love and forgiveness to those who don’t deserve it. God’s covenant love is not like the human love we see most often. Human love is commercial or transactional: we expect a return for our investment. I love you because of what you can do for me. I give this; you return that. But in the case of God’s love for us, we can give back nothing. Nothing.

So what we are called to give in the New Testament, that agape love, is really hesed, covenant love. It is love toward all of God’s image bearers regardless of what they have to offer in return. Let’s face it: all humans are created in God’s image, but not all seem worthy of the hesed God promises. That’s precisely the point. This morning, Troy called us to show mercy and love to those who “sin differently” than we do. His meaning: we are all sinners; it is self-righteous to think we are better than this one or that one.

There is one caveat: the relationships we build with this covenant love of God are not without boundaries. Our love does not extend to enablement. Our love does not become complicity in sin. All things to all men to win some (1 Corinthians 9:23) does not excuse unrighteous behavior on our part. But we can love someone all the way to the prison cell or recovery center and back if that is what it takes. “Love the sinner; hate the sin” is a cliché, but it seems to be God’s position in this matter.

I was reminded this morning that the love we are called to is not transactional, it is covenantal. We are not supposed to expect anything in return. Our “covenant” with the lost should reflect God’s covenant with us. Mercy is mercy precisely because the recipient does not deserve it. We should be watching for people in our lives who don’t deserve mercy, and then we should show them what mercy looks like. At that point we will be God’s true image-bearers. We will be acting as God’s agents of mercy in a world that desperately needs to see God. Micah summarizes the call: “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Okay, “Mortal,” it’s your turn.

Check Your Roots

There is a popular idea that getting to the promised land is an Old Testament type of going to Heaven. Some of the Negro spirituals and even some older Christian hymns make the connection plainly. I think they are wrong. When Joshua took the new people of Israel into the land, it was occupied by the enemies of God. The Israelites had to fight bloody battles with and suffer repeated attacks from those enemies all through their history there. That does not sound like an analogy for Heaven, at least not the Heaven I’m looking forward to.

I think crossing Jordon and taking the land is a metaphor of the Christian life. Crossing Jordon is not going to heaven, but becoming a new person in Christ. This analogy lines up much better with the historical facts of the Israelite occupation, and it leads to several instructive parallels.

First, Joshua 21:43 reports that after God gave them the land and they possessed it, they “settled” there. The Hebrew word for settled is taba (טָבַע). Taba means to sink in, to be planted (think roots); it is even translated “to drown” once. I do not mean to imply that Christians should be “planted” in earthly things. Remember that the physical realities of the Old Testament are most often types of spiritual realities in the New Testament. Israel had physical land and a physical kingdom. Christians have Christ as their “land,” and God’s rule as the Kingdom. Believers are told to be “rooted and grounded” in the Love that signifies Christ’s Kingdom.

There is another parallel between the Israelites’ situation and believers’. We both need to be zealous to root out the enemy forces that surround us. Before he left, Jesus warned that we would be hated by the world because they hated him. Peter called our enemy a “roaring lion seeking whom he may devour.” We cannot make deals with the enemy, as Joshua was fooled into doing with the Gibeonites. Nor can we stop short of sweeping the land clean unless we want the “Philistines” constantly troubling us. We must seek to be holy as God is holy keeping in mind that holiness is separation for a cause. In the world, but not of the world.

Even the Israelite desire for an earthly king resonates with our situation as subjects in Christ’s Kingdom. Israel wanted to be like the people around them; their neighbors all had physical rulers who, by the way, were followers of God’s enemy. Israel rejected God as King and longed for a human replacement. Samuel says, “But today you have rejected your God, who saves you from all your calamities and your distresses, and you have said to him, ‘Set a king over us.’” Isn’t that exactly what we do today when we set something other than God at the center of our lives?

The last parallel I want to draw may stretch the linguistic boundaries somewhat, but you will forgive me. The Hebrew word taba carries the idea of sinking in, translated once “to drown” as I mentioned earlier. One of the pictures Christian baptism paints is that of identification with Christ. We are baptized, immersed, into Christ in the sense that we are identifying ourselves with his death and resurrection. We must not think of the resurrection as only that which comes after we die; after our immersion, we are subsequently raised that “we too might walk in newness of life,” says Paul. Israel passed between the waters of the Jordan as they entered the promised land. In our case, Jesus fulfilled the promise of land that God made to Abraham; He is our “land.” We are born anew, baptized into Him, so that we might live a new kind of life in the Land of Christ.

Ask yourself if you are settled, rooted, drowned in Christ. In whose kingdom do you belong? It is not enough to say we belong to Christ. We must live so that we “shine like stars in the sky” letting the world know to whom we belong. Anything less than that is living in the Promised Land and worshipping Baal. Look what happened to Israel for behaving like that!

Deliver Us From Evil

In a recent post I pointed to values clarification as a major factor contributing to the violence that has been plaguing schools in the last 30 years or so. In that previous post intended to say that without a standard for moral values, young people are encouraged to decide for themselves what value system they will embrace. If a young man decides that homicide is permissible under his own particular value system, who is to say nay?

Immediately this sounds wrong somehow to almost everybody (to all my readers, I hope). Most people would consider the taking of innocent life wrong under any circumstances. But wait. The idea that it is wrong to take another life (innocent or not) proceeds from the assumption that there are basic moral principles which apply to everyone. Full stop. That assumption rests on the idea that there are universal moral principles; today’s moral relativism and situation ethics question that very assumption. The murder of millions of innocent unborn children emphasizes the practical reality of this position.

If one goes looking for universal values, it will become patently obvious that they exist. In both the Eastern and Westerner traditions, we find searches for and suggestions of universal truths thousands of years back. You can even discount Hebraic tradition (as so many are wont to do) and still find a trace of universal truth permeating the best thinkers in every age. What we must ask is whether there are constants, survivors in this exploration. The answer is a resounding YES.

What are the values that resonate with every generation and every culture: beauty, goodness and truth. Granted, beauty does have cultural and generational aspects, but if I am reading Francis Schaeffer correctly, beauty itself has a universal anchor. For example, John Cage and Pablo Pascal may have been popular for a short time, but few would call their work “beautiful.” Goodness has less variability across cultures and generations, although philosophers since Socrates have debated what “the good” is. Perhaps the most debatable element in today’s society is truth. Post-modern philosophers (the majority of western thinkers) question whether there is even enough evidence to declare that truth exists.

I believe truth does exist: an absolute, knowable, propositional truth. I believe this because I know God exists, and he created what we know as “reality,” and he communicated with his creation concerning that reality. Truth then exists as the expression of how things comport with or match up to reality. I realize all this stems from my Christian world-view, and most secular thinkers will dismiss it out of hand. Yet I agree with FrancisSchaeffer that this view is the only view that makes ultimate sense of the universe and humanity’s place in the universe.

Goodness, or “the Good” that the ancients were seeking is an outgrowth of our view of truth. The word “good” can be assigned to anything that advances the will of the Creator and aligns with his character. The opposite of good is evil; evil is anything that does not line up with goodness and truth. On that basis, much of what we accept in society as freedom of speech or simply an opposing argument is in fact evil. The lesson on how to boil a frog is instructive here. Christians in America have allowed civil discourse and behavior in general to devolve to the lowest common denominator in the name of freedom. Against this the Bible tells us we are not to use our freedom as acover-up for evil.

So then, it is evil to distort the truth. Somebody coined the term “fake news” recently. In the past, purposely distorting the truth was called propaganda; its real name is lies. Washington DC abounds with this kind of speech. Our “entertainers” who become spokespersons for causes commit the same thing. The recent tirade on gun control is a perfect example. Oprah Winfrey and George Clooney blather on about reducing violence by restricting access to guns. Yet statistics prove that the highest gun violence rates are in the cities with the toughest gun control. These celebrities may be opining out of ignorance, but the old saw that says ignorance is no excuse applies. Purposeful ignorance is also evil.

Another way our society distorts truth is by belittling goodness. This is a form of evil. Look at what the media did to Tim Tebow or any other athlete who openly expresses faith in God. Joy Behar, famous for her views on The View recently made shameful comments about the Vice President, Mike Pence, regarding his strong Christian faith. Saturday Night Live regularly mocks Christians as entertainment. I will grant that this does not rise to the level of roasting Christians alive as did the worst Roman emperors, but it is evil nonetheless, and it is pervasive in our society.

The Apostle Paul had some advice for the Philippians that we would do well to follow. “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things… and the peace of God will be with you.” That prescription would end the violence in schools and slander in the media and a host of evils if taken to heart. Truthfully, in the final analysis, the real issue is the heart of man, that deceitful, desperately wicked heart. Only God can change that, but we can hope… and pray.

Eulogy for Robert Rosencrants

Because of the 1,587 mile time-space continuum separation, I will not be present in the flesh at the funeral of my dear friend, Bob Rosencrants. I will be there in spirit (whatever that means), but I am going to share what I would say if I could be there in person.

Bob was a good friend; I mean that two ways. He was a friend who was a good man, and he was a good man to have as a friend. I don’t know if I have ever known a more generous man. For example, he once offered to help me buy a house. I don’t mean introduce me to a realtor or give me counsel about what and where to buy (although he did that too). I mean he offered me a large sum of money toward the purchase of a house. The fact that I chose not to accept his generous offer does not diminish the huge generosity of the offer. I know of other similar incidents too, as does anyone who knew Bob well.

Bob was the kind of good friend who would just up and call me out of the blue. Sometimes he had a specific question about something he was reading. He’d say something like, “Hey Clair, I am wondering about something I read and I thought you might be able to help.” Sometimes he would just call to see how I was doing; no particular reason; just a call to connect. He’d ask, “How are you and that wife of yours doing?” or something like that.

I loved having him in the Sunday School class I was teaching. He stopped coming in spite of the fact that I begged him to come back. Even that situation showed what a good heart the man had. What happened is that Bob and I had a disagreement about the meaning of a word. It was a little heated at the time, and I did not handle it properly. We eventually came to a perfectly friendly conclusion to agree to disagree, but no matter how earnestly I begged him to come back to class, he refused. You see, he felt that his presence might engender strife instead of enlightenment, so he chose not to risk the possibility. That was selflessness in action. That was Bob.

None of us who attend Bridge Bible Church with Bob will ever forget his Sunday morning prayer requests: “Hello Church. This is Bob, standing in the need of prayer.” And he was standing when he said that, even toward the last when standing became a major effort. And he was dead serious about his need for prayer, but he was even more concerned for others. I’m pretty sure Lu must have cringed a couple times when Bob shared in his own inimitable way, but those of us in the body with Bob and Lu got to feel what he felt and pray what he prayed… at least a little.

The thing I hope I can remember and imitate is the way Bob faced his last bit of time here on earth. Oh sure, he had a few moments of anger and confusion, but what I remember most is his unwavering conviction whatever happened, he wanted God to get the glory. I think that worked out the way Bob wanted.

I can see Bob up there now having a conversation with Peter, Paul, and Dr. Luke. I can imagine someone saying, "Oh, Bob! Really?" They are the lucky ones now. But we are lucky too, those of us who knew Bob. The Apostle Paul told us to imitate him as he imitated Christ. I know Bob had his crazy moments, but we could do worse than to imitate Bob as he imitated Christ. Bob Rosencrants was a good man to have around. He will be missed.