My Morning Meal

At first it kind of comes across as a really weird question to ask. You gotta be kidding me . . . did He really think there was more than one answer to the question? But then, as I think about it, it’s a bit haunting . . . one of those questions that can penetrate soul and spirit.

Reading in John 5 this morning. Jesus goes up to Jerusalem to participate in one of the feasts of the Jews. By the city’s Sheep Gate there’s a pool . . . apparently a pool with a reputation of being a source of miraculous healing if one can get in the waters after the they have been “stirred up.” So it’s not the celebrities who are hanging out around this pool . . . no lounge chairs with tanned somebodies wearing sunglasses and getting on a tan. No, the people hanging out around this pool are “a multitude of invalids–blind, lame, and paralyzed” . . . aka beggars. These are the outcasts . . . these are those with no means of their own . . . these are those beyond having any capability to stand on their own two feet — some, literally!

And as Jesus comes upon this pool He notices one man. A man who had been an invalid for 38 years. For almost four decades . . . since before Jesus was born . . . if it was today, since 1974 . . . this guy had been ravished by a chronic illness . . . the disease sapping him of all his strength . . . his limbs rendered almost entirely useless . . . so weak that for years he had tried to crawl into the stirred waters but couldn’t move quick enough and was always beaten out by another. And Jesus takes notices of this guy . . . locks on him . . . knows his current, hopeless situation . . . knows everything about his past which brought him to this place . . . and then asks him the question. The weird question . . . the question that you think there can be only one answer to . . . the question that starts to penetrate because the obvious answer has implications.

One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, He said to him, “Do you want to be healed?”   (John 5:5-6 ESV)

Really? Do you want to be healed? Do you want to be made well? Do you want to be made whole? That’s the question? Yup, it is.

If you think about it, there’s some implications around being able to stand on your own two feet. For starters, you need to carry your own mat rather than have someone carry it for you . . . and maybe take some flack for doing so (5:9-11). You’ll need to work to feed yourself rather than rely on the labors of others for handouts. Not that the man would be left to do it on his own. Jesus was the one who would heal . . . Jesus was one who would give strength . . . Jesus was the one who would provide direction saying, “Get up and walk” . . . He’s the one who would show the way to long term victory, “Sin no more” (v.14). But still, you can see where it might have been easier for the guy to say, “I’ll pass, thank you . . . I think I’ll stick with my well known status quo.”

And so the question penetrates. Do I want to be made whole? Jesus is wanting to do a work in me . . . to continue the process of healing the scars from the disease of sin . . . to come alongside to strengthen feeble legs as He calls me to walk in a manner worthy of my calling . . . to work from the inside, through the indwelling Spirit, that I might serve Him in resurrection power. Do you want to be made well . . . do you?

I do. I want to know legs made strong by the Savior . . . I’m willing to carry my mat even if it’s not popular . . . I want be what He’s called me to be . . . I want to do what He wants me to do.

But I can only “I do” by His enabling and abiding presence. And so, by His grace and for His glory, I’ll get up and walk . . .

It was the last thing in the world she expected. That He had talked to her at all was amazing . . . that He offered her a type of water which would never leave her thirsty again was intriguing . . . and, after she asked for this water which wells up to eternal, that He would respond with such a request was shocking! . . . Go get your husband . . .

He freely offered her living water . . . but it would cost her . . .

Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come here.” 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 now have is not your husband. What you have said is true.”  (John 4:16-18 ESV)

Transparency . . . that’s what she was required to ante up. A recognition of her thirst . . . an acknowledgement of her need. That was the price to be paid . . . truth before the Giver of Living Water.

Transparency can be kind of uncomfortable . . . so she tries to steer the conversation to more esoteric matters . . . to matters of a difference of opinion . . . to the dividing debate between Samaritan and Jew, where to worship. But Jesus loves her too much to let her off the hook. Worship isn’t about heritage . . . it’s not about the mountain or Jerusalem . . . it’s not about an on-going debate . . . it’s about God . . . the God who requires transparency and truth . . .

“But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father is seeking such people to worship Him. God is spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth.” — Jesus (John 4:23-24 ESV)

Do I want to take in living water? . . . Do I want to put out authentic worship? . . . then I’m thinking I need to, though it might be uncomfortable, walk onto the ground of transparency and truth with the Giver of Living Water . . . with the Seeker of Real Worshipers.

Honesty before the throne. That’s what my God desires. When I’m spiritually parched I need to be willing to be shown how I’ve contributed to the dryness . . . to own up to perhaps some waywardness . . . or some prideful self-sufficiency which has interrupted the flow of living water. I need not fear transparency . . . in fact, being reminded again of Jesus unconditional love for me despite my performance deficiencies is life giving water in and of itself. To be made aware again that the God who formed me . . . and redeemed me . . . and has begun a work in me . . . knows me inside and out . . . and still is committed to the finishing His work, is rejuvenating. To humble myself and confess my sin, knowing that He is faithful and just to forgive my sin and to cleanse me from all unrighteousness (1John 1:9) . . . that alone will refuel the passion to praise . . . the want to worship.

Transparency . . . truth . . . that’s how I am to open my mouth to receive heaven’s thirst-quenching water . . . that’s how I am to approach the God of matchless grace who seeks worshipers . . .

Search me, O God, and know my heart!
   Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any grievous way in me,
   and lead me in the way everlasting! (Psalm 139:23-24 ESV)

Finishing up John 3 this morning (vv. 22-36) . . . and as I reflect on today’s reading and the readings of the past couple of mornings I’m struck by a contrast. You probably couldn’t have encountered two more opposite dudes than Nicodemus and John the Baptizer. One a Pharisee . . . among the elite . . . dressing each morning in finery . . . accustomed to the place of honor and privilege . . . a somebody by anybodies account. The other a . . . ah . . . ah . . . a wild man . . . some (like Erwin McManus) would call him a barbarian . . . anything but civilized . . . dressing in animal skins . . . a stranger to deodorant I imagine . . . accustomed to eating whatever the wilderness would provide . . . a nobody who was all about Somebody else. The one came to Jesus at night . . . the other proclaimed the Lamb of God day after day. And here’s the contrast that really grabs me this morning . . . the one was a man schooled in the law . . . learned . . . a teacher of Israel . . . yet clueless as to the dynamics of the kingdom of God. The other . . . oh, the other! What he knew . . . what he discerned . . . what he understood! What privilege is given to those who are the friend of the Bridegroom.

John’s disciples come to John a bit bent out of shape that John’s ministry is starting to lose steam as the crowds are instead flocking to Jesus. John’s response? “He must increase, but I must decrease.” John had known his was about pointing to another . . . he had been very clear that he was not the “main event” but the preparer of the way. John understood that he was of the earth, but Jesus was from heaven . . . Jesus had come from above . . . and as such Jesus was above all. John understood that Jesus was the Son of God . . . that the Father loves the Son and had given all things into the Son’s hand . . . that Jesus uttered the very words of God . . . that Jesus would give the Spirit without measure . . . and that whoever believed in the Son would have eternal life.

How did John know all this? Did he and cousin Jesus hang out while they were growing up planning the day when the “Jesus Tour” would kick off with the “Wilderness Warning” as the opening act? No record of it. My sense is that John was the recipient of some heavenly sourced illumination . . . the benefit of being the friend of the Bridegroom.

“A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven. You yourselves bear me witness, that I said, ‘I am not the Christ, but I have been sent before Him.’ The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete.” — John the Baptizer (John 3:27-29 ESV)

There’s nothing John knew, regardless of whatever earthy mechanics may have been used, that wasn’t given him from heaven. He was a friend of the Bridegroom who had set his heart to stand with Him and to listen to Him. He had heard the Bridegroom’s voice . . . for years by faith and through the Spirit and now in real time as Jesus revealed the ways of the kingdom. And in hearing that voice, now as always, he rejoiced . . . his joy was complete.

And while I’m no John the Baptizer . . . by the grace of God and through the work of the cross I am a friend of the Bridegroom. He has made a way for me to stand in His presence . . . He has given me His word that I might know His ways . . . He has indwelt me with His Spirit that I might hear His voice . . . the same dynamic of illumination that allowed John to behold the Lamb of God works in me today. It’s the privilege of being a friend of the Bridegroom.

Nicodemus would eventually be brought into the same privilege. The equalizer between a Pharisee and a barbarian being their relationship with the living Christ.

That I would rejoice in such favor . . . that my joy might be made complete . . . not by my smarts but by His grace . . . not for my glory but for His glory alone!

He was a man of religious standing . . . a ruler among Jews. He was devout concerning the things of God and regarded highly as an expert in the ways of God. The prestige he enjoyed amongst men he somehow felt he deserved amongst angels. He kept the rules . . . he did what he was supposed to do . . . he rejected that which he was not to do. But, in all his years as a pillar of piety in the community, he had never encountered anyone like Jesus. And while many of his peers summarily rejected the young Rabbi’s teachings despite the signs that accompanied them, Nicodemus couldn’t shake whatever was tugging at his heart concerning the freshness and vitality of this unpretentious Teacher and the electrifying nature of His message. And so, he came . . .

Now there was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews. This man came to Jesus by night . . .   (John 3:1-2a ESV)

Now I suppose there’s a couple of ways to read this depending on where you put the emphasis. You might read that Nicodemus was a bit of a religious wimp because he “came to Jesus BY NIGHT.” Skulking in the shadows, for fear of what others might think, he secretly made His way to the Man from Nazareth. Big man . . . no spine. Praying on the street corners during the day so that all might see his piety . . . tracking down Jesus in the alley on a moonless night so that no one would see his timidity. You could go there . . . that’s where you could place the emphasis . . . but what if the important thing is really that “this man CAME TO JESUS by night?”

He came to Jesus.

Jesus was shaking his world . . . might have been simpler and easier just to retreat into that world . . . to harden his heart to the attraction it was feeling towards this Teacher who seemed to have the light of life about Him . . . to stiffen his neck and keep his eyes focused on the way in which he had been reared and trained . . . to grab more tightly onto the reins of the way he had known his whole life and not let anything upset his apple cart. But Nicodemus didn’t . . . he came.

Though he didn’t recognize the Voice, he was responding to the wooing of the Spirit of God. He didn’t come because he was something special, but he came because God was drawing him (John 6:44) . . . he came because, by the grace of God, he was sincerely seeking the way of God.

And while the things that Nicodemus needed to hear where the things of “The Kingdom 101” . . . the need to be born again . . . the possibility of being re-birthed by the Spirit of God . . . the invitation to believe and receive eternal life . . . I can’t help but wonder what I need to hear.

It’s kind of easy after doing the pilgrim thing for a few decades to get comfortable with a certain way . . . to believe that the path you’ve been on is the only path to go on . . . to perhaps lose perspective that the familiar road might actually be a limiting rut . . . to no longer be stirred by the Word of God because you think you’ve got the Way of God all figured out.

But is it possible that there’s still stuff to learn . . . that there’s still the ways of the Kingdom to be responded to that may upset our stable religious ways? If so, even if it needs to be at night because I’m a bit afraid of going counter-my-culture, shouldn’t I come? Shouldn’t I trust the One I’ve owned as Lord enough to be willing to receive His Word and, by His grace and power, by faith respond to His Word?

Coming isn’t just for those who need to meet Jesus . . . I’m thinking it’s also for those who have known Him.

Come you who are weary (Matt. 11:28) . . . Come you who thirst (John 7:37) . . . Come that you may have life (John 5:40) . . . Come by day . . . Come by night . . . Come just as you are . . .

“O Lamb of God, I come . . . I come . . . “