The 260 Journey

Day 76

Today’s Reading: John 8

In Christian Letters to a Post-Christian World, renowned English writer, Dorothy Sayers, aimed some powerful words at religious people who have watered down the Son of God and made Jesus accommodating:

The people who hanged Christ never accused Him of being a bore; on the contrary, they thought Him too dynamic to be safe. It has been left for later generations to muffle up that shattering personality and surround Him with the atmosphere of tedium. We have very efficiently pared the claws of the Lion of Judah, certified Him “meek and mild,” and recommended Him as a fitting household pet for pale curates and pious old ladies.

As we have seen throughout our 260 Journey so far, Jesus is anything but those things. Four times in today’s reading, Jesus refers to Himself by using a common Old Testament title used only for God: I AM (see verses 12, 24, 28, and 58). That’s why this chapter opens with the religious wanting to stone a woman caught in adultery and end with them wanting to stone Jesus. Look at the ending of the chapter with me:

The Jews said to Him, “You are not yet fifty years old, and have You seen Abraham?” Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was born, I am.” Therefore they picked up stones to throw at Him, but Jesus hid Himself and went out of the temple. (John 8:57-59)

By Jesus using that phrase for Himself, He clearly meant for them to understand that He was saying that He was God. And the religious were not having it—thus the stones. They needed the stones to “declaw” the Lion of Judah and make Him a manageable kitty cat, as Sayers said.

Consider this revelation U2’s lead singer Bono offered: “Religion can be the enemy of God. It’s often what happens when God . . . has left the building.” Or to say it another way . . . religion is what is left when God leaves the room. That is the truth!

Many years ago, a woman entered a Häagen-Dazs store in Kansas City to buy an ice-cream cone. After she’d ordered she turned and found herself staring directly into the face of Paul Newman, the famous actor who was in town filming Mr. & Mrs. Bridge. He smiled and said hello. His blue eyes were even bluer in person, which made her knees buckle. She finished paying and quickly walked out of the store. When she’d regained her composure, however, she realized she didn’t have her cone, so she turned to go back in and met Newman who was coming out.

“Are you looking for your ice cream?” he asked her.

Unable to utter a word, she simply nodded.

“You put it in your purse with your change.”

When was the last time the presence of God made you forget what was going on around you? Made you forget the dishes? Made you forget the ballgame? Made you forget the bank account? Made you forget . . . where you put your ice cream cone?

Christian writer Donald McCullough writes on how cavalier we treat the privilege of standing in God’s presence Sunday after Sunday: “Reverence and awe have often been replaced by the yawn of familiarity. The consuming fire has been domesticated into a candle flame, adding a bit of religious atmosphere, perhaps, but no heat, no blinding light, no power for purification.”

Author Annie Dillard echoes the sentiment:

Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should latch us to our pews. For the sleeping God may wake someday and take offense, or the waking God may draw us out to where we can never return.

And in John 8 when the religious heard this man speak about Himself by using the Old Testament term for being God—I AM—four times, no one thought of strapping in and putting on a crash helmet because they were talking to God. They just decided to try to stone Him. But that didn’t work, so they crucified Him. Crucified the Great I AM.

We must be careful that we do not try to do the same. As Charles Spurgeon once remarked, “Nobody can do so much damage to the church of God as the man who is within its walls, but not within its life.” May that not be you and me.

Day 75

Today’s Reading: John 7

Not many young people would know the radio show or his iconic voice, but some years ago, 21 million Americans would tune in on their radios to hear from the most listened-to voice in America. They would hold their breath in suspense as the storyteller recounted a true story with a surprise ending. It was called The Rest of the Story, a real-life mystery Paul Harvey would share. After he revealed the shocking ending, he would say, “Now you know . . .” pause . . . “the rest of the story.” And then close with his signature broadcast ending, “Good day.”

We just hit our Paul-Harvey moment in our 260 Journey. And we find it in a parenthetical statement within a verse of John 7. The parentheses tell us the rest of the story.

Question: what do you think of when I mention the name Nicodemus?

His claim to fame was a one-on-one night conversation with Jesus and in the midst of that interaction in John 3, we hear Jesus say the most amazing sentence ever spoken in human history: “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life” (verse 16).

Thank you, Nicodemus, for having the guts to talk to Jesus. That statement Jesus gave you has probably led more people to Jesus than any other Bible verse.

But Nicodemus is more than just that scene. People can easily be caricatured for one thing and known by only one event in their life. Nicodemus seems to get stuck in John 3 and his story goes no further. What is amazing is that Jesus’ “born again” talk never seems to come to a conclusion and we never know if it “took” with Nicodemus. Did the religious leader gain a second birth and become a follower of Jesus?

In our reading today in John 7, though, if you blink, you will miss the rest of Nicodemus’s story. It sheds light on the most famous New Testament chapter without a conclusion. Here is the amazing parentheses of John 7 and the anticipated conclusion of the iconic John 3 meeting: “Nicodemus (he who came to Him before, being one of them) said . . .” (verse 50, emphasis added).

Did you see it? He who came to Him . . .

That is John 3, the born-again-talk evening.

Then verse 50 continues, “before being one of them.”

That’s it. He is one of them. One of who? The disciples, a follower of Jesus.

Nicodemus heard the words of Jesus that night and took them to heart. Nicodemus was born again. Did it happen that night? Did it happen in John 3? We don’t know. We don’t have those facts. But it happened! We know that conversation changed that man.

I sometimes miss the parentheses in people’s lives. I have talked to people on planes and in coffee shops and in parks about Jesus and never saw anything happen. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have those parentheses. Just because it doesn’t happen in your chapter doesn’t mean it hasn't happened at all. Who knew? And who knows if your talk with someone about Jesus touched someone. We find out about Nicodemus four chapters later, though you may not find out for four years. But always remember, God’s Word never returns void.

All I know is that Jesus shared with Nicodemus about the new birth. It changed his life. And John 7:50 says in those parentheses the results of the conversation—“he who came to Him before being one of them”—gives us all the results of that special night in John 3. Nicodemus became a follower.

Do I dare say it?

Should I say it?

Forgive me, Mr. Harvey. Now you know . . . the rest of that John 3 story. Good day.

Day 74

Today’s Reading: John 6

The Christian life is a journey, not an arrival. As part of that journey, we all have to do hard but noble stuff at some point:

• tell someone about Jesus
• say no to something we used to say yes to
• end a toxic relationship
• decide to tithe

As Oswald Chambers said, “If we are going to live as disciples of Jesus, we have to remember that all noble things are difficult. The Christian life is gloriously difficult, but the difficulty of it does not make us faint and cave in, it rouses us up to overcome.” Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same thing. Don’t miss out on something amazing because it’s difficult. We are ordinary people who know an extraordinary God!

Talk about doing the hard thing: In October 1912, Theodore Roosevelt was campaigning for the presidency and on a stop in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, a man shot him point-blank with a .32-caliber pistol. Though the bullet lodged in his chest, Roosevelt refused to cancel his campaign rally. “The bullet is in me now, so that I cannot make a very long speech, but I will try my best,” Roosevelt told the crowd. In fact, Roosevelt spoke for eighty-four minutes! That’s doing the difficult thing!

In today’s reading, John 6 helps us get ready for the hard thing that God sometimes calls us to. It’s the story of the loaves and fishes. It’s not a story simply about a miracle. It’s a test for the disciples! It’s them being challenged with a hard thing. Let’s read it:

After these things Jesus went away to the other side of the Sea of Galilee (or Tiberias). A large crowd followed Him, because they saw the signs which He was performing on those who were sick. Then Jesus went up on the mountain, and there He sat down with His disciples. Now the Passover, the feast of the Jews, was near. Therefore Jesus, lifting up His eyes and seeing that a large crowd was coming to Him, said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread, so that these may eat?” This He was saying to test him, for He Himself knew what He was intending to do. (John 6:1-6)

This story wasn’t just about feeding people, it was also about testing the disciples with a one-question test: “Where shall we buy bread for all these people to eat?”

That’s it.

It was “fill in the blank.” (I hated those tests because you had no chance to guess, like you could on the multiple-choice tests.)

If Jesus would have said something like . . .

“Where shall we buy bread for all these people?”:

A. Costco
B. Sam’s
C. a and b
D. Me!

I think I could have gotten this one right.

Philip started filling in his test paper: “Two hundred denarii worth of bread is not sufficient for them, for everyone to receive a little.”

Wrong!

Then it was Andrew’s turn: “There is a lad here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are these for so many people?” (verse 9).

When Andrew started his answer with, “There is a lad here who has five loaves and two fish,” I want to shout, “Stop right there! You got it. Don’t say anything else.” If he would have ended his sentence there, he would have been a hero. But he threw in, “But what are these for so many people?”

He should have stopped at the fish.

When he continued to talk, he magnified the crowd and lessened God. He was minimizing the material God had to work with. From the beginning, God has never had much to work with. But that’s what happens when our problems
get big: God gets little.

Andrew was so close to the answer. In fact, he got the answer right, but then messed it up with the conjunction but.

When you are faced with a huge need, just tell God all the stuff you’ve got and what He has to work with. Tell God what you’ve got—then stop there!

“I’ve got two mad people in a marriage. That’s it, God.”

“I’ve got a job that doesn’t pay much and a lot of bills. That’s all, God.”

“I’ve got a rebellious child who won’t listen.”

Just tell God what you’ve got to work with, then say, “The rest is up to you, Lord.”

Let’s look at how Jesus responded:

Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” Now there was much grass in the place. So the men sat down, in number about five thousand. Jesus then took the loaves, and having given thanks, He distributed to those who were seated; likewise also of the fish as much as they wanted. (verses 10-11)

Don’t tell God their value or whether something is enough. He made the world from nothing. God doesn’t need your commentary. The only word that should go after but is God. And God’s got it from there.

Day 73

Today’s Reading: John 5

Today we land on John 5, an up-close view to a phenomenon of miracle healing waters called the waters of Bethesda. When the waters moved, the first in the pool got healed. Here’s the first part of the story:

After these things there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, which is called in Hebrew Bethesda, having five porticoes. In these lay a multitude of those who were sick, blind, lame, and withered, [waiting for the moving of the waters; for an angel of the Lord went down at certain seasons into the pool and stirred up the water; whoever then first, after the stirring up of the water, stepped in was made well from whatever disease with which he was afflicted.] A man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. (John 5:1-4)

Methodist preacher Halford Luccock made this profound observation about this chapter:

Here are a group of invalids depending on some external commotion for all their healing. They put all their trust in “bubbles.” Society is very much like a boiling spring. It has its periodic fashions and crazes. The surface of the pool of life is disturbed; it bubbles. And we say, “Lo, here! This is the thing that will put me on my feet. The man at the pool was saved not by the coming of an external disturbance but by the advent of a person, Jesus.

I love that. It wasn’t bubbles but Jesus who healed him. Here is the rest of the story:

When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he had already been a long time in that condition, He said to him, “Do you wish to get well?” The sick man answered Him, “Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I am coming, another steps down before me.” Jesus said to him, “Get up, pick up your pallet and walk.” Immediately the man became well and picked up his pallet and began to walk. Afterward Jesus found him in the temple and said to him, “Behold, you have become well; do not sin anymore, so that nothing worse happens to you.” (John 5:6-9, 14)

Jesus said three things to this man, and regarding those things I want to say something:

Do you wish to get well?

Get up, pick up your pallet and walk.

Do not sin anymore, so that nothing worse happens to you.

First, Jesus said, “Do you wish to get well?” Seems an odd thing to say to a man who has been there for thirty-eight years, doesn’t it? I think people learn to survive and adjust with something they have had for thirty-eight years.

That’s why Jesus asked him the question, “Do you wish to get well?"

Notice this man’s answer: “Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I am coming, another steps down before me” (verse 7). This man blamed other people for his lack of healing. Either someone did not help him in first, or the problem was that there were faster sick people. There is something dangerous to think that our lack of freedom, healing, or success is because others are not doing their jobs.

Second, Jesus said to him, “Get up, pick up your pallet and walk.” He was about to show this man that it wasn’t others but now he could do something about it. To get a command from Jesus and not obey is like one who says he believes in education and never goes to school. Destiny is not a matter of chance but choice. No one is born a winner or loser but a chooser.

Jesus told him essentially, “Choose to do what I tell you, and you will walk. Don’t make excuses; do something.” Like Corrie Ten Boom said, “Don’t bother to give God instructions; just report for duty.”

Third, Jesus went to the newly healed man after he was walking and said, “Behold, you have become well; do not sin anymore, so that nothing worse happens to you” (verse 14).

I love the order of Jesus. Jesus touched this man physically and then dealt with him spiritually. To have a walking man whose heart is not right is useless. I would rather be lame and go to heaven than be a track star and go to hell.

These were the same words Jesus spoke to the woman caught in adultery: “Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, where are they? Did no one condemn you? She said, ‘No one, Lord.’ And Jesus said, ‘I do not condemn you, either. Go. From now on sin no more.’” (John 8:10-11).

No need to blame others when Jesus is here. No need to wait for others when Jesus gives you a choice for healing and walking. And finally, no need to live an old way when Jesus’ new way is so much better than waiting for bubbles.

Day 72

Today's Reading: John 4

The average American is exposed to between four thousand and ten thousand commercial messages every day. But it’s truth that is a rarity. We have opinions but not truth.

One of my friends put it this way: “Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but not everyone is entitled to their own truth.”

Truth is universal. It isn’t limited to individuals, geography, or ethnicity.

We see this in today’s reading of John 4, in which Jesus has such an important one-on-one conversation with a Samaritan woman. In this conversation Jesus will tell the truth, the difficult truth, but the liberating truth. In fact, He will share two truths that will set this woman—and an entire city—free. For as He said in John 8:32 (TLB), “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” That means we need truth in order to have freedom.

And as He shared two truths with the Samaritan woman, He shares those same truths with us: (1) the truth about God; and (2) the truth about ourselves. It’s the second truth that we usually miss.

After this immoral woman met Jesus at a well and realized this is not just some Jew but this was the Messiah (truth about God), she went back to her city. Listen to her words: “The woman left her waterpot, and went into the city and said to the men, ‘Come, see a man who told me all the things that I have done’” (John 4:28-29).

What a message. She did not say, “Come see the Messiah.” She did not even say, “Come see a man who told me all my good points and increased my self esteem.”

She said, “Come see a man who told me the truth about me. He told me my faults, my sins, and revealed to me my past.”

And Jesus did. He told her that she was immoral and living in immorality.

This Samaritan woman was saying, “Come see a man who has told me two truths—the truth about Himself and the truth about me.” We need truth to be free; we need to understand and embrace these two truths to experience freedom.

We live in a society that grossly overexaggerates ourselves, but Jesus doesn’t do that. Remember the truth about this woman:

He said, “Go call your husband and then come back.”

“I have no husband,” she said.

“That’s nicely put: ‘I have no husband.’ You’ve had five husbands, and the man you’re living with now isn’t even your husband. (John 4:16-18, MSG)

In Finding God, Larry Crabb wrote: “Feeling better has become more important to us than finding God.” You can’t feel better unless you find God, let’s be clear. Listen to the Samaritans’ response when they heard this woman’s raw words: “From that city many of the Samaritans believed in Him because of the word of the woman who testified, ‘He told me all the things that I have done” (John 4:39). She was telling the city, “Today I am free because of two truths: I met a man who told me all things (truth about God) and all things that I have done (truth about me).” In other words, she was saying, “And after He exposed my dark past, He still wanted me and loves me. This is not a normal man. He is different!"

When we come to Jesus, we will hear the truth about ourselves, but we will also hear the truth about Him. And despite the revelation of our real selves and our messed-up lives, we discover that He loves us and wants us. That’s two big truths.

Plato said, “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark. The real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” When you come to Jesus, you come to the light. Don’t be afraid. The true “you” will come to light, but so will the true God. And He is amazing.