students of jesus

"God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’" (Acts 17:27-28)

These words ring in my ears, “he is not far from any one of us.” What is the distance between you and God? Not far. So many of us have been told there is chasm between Holy God and sinful man, and I’m sure that’s true in some respect. Yet Paul spoke these words to people who did not care whether Paul’s God was real or not. He spoke to pagans who had no regard for the holiness of the God of Israel or his son, Jesus. He told them that God was behind the events and identities of their lives and working in everyday situations in order to encourage them to turn his direction.

What is the distance between you and God? How far do we have to go to connect with him? Not far. It turns out that each day we live, we move, we take our steps, breath our breaths, we run our errands and do our jobs and live our lives--and all the while he is not far from any one of us. Do we know this? Do we feel it? If he is not far, how far must we go to connect with him?

How can we make space for him? The answers are as practical--and unique--as our daily routine. John Wesley was one of 19 children; his mother, Susannah, made space for God by pulling her apron over her head and taking a moment to pray. How can we make space for him? I have a friend who takes a ten-minute retreat from everything, including his own thoughts, just to sit in silence with God. I have another friend who uses a scripture reference as his computer’s password; each time he logs on he recites the verse and asks for God’s help in his work. Bill Johnson, pastor of Bethel church in Redding, CA suggests, “Since you can't imagine a place where he isn't, you might as well imagine him with you.”

Whatever we may think the distance is, the testimony of the scripture is that he is not far from us. No one is excluded. How far do we need to turn? Some things we can only learn by doing. We will discover personally that the answer is “Not far.”

As I considered my need for presence of God I turned to John’s gospel. At the very beginning I was arrested by a tiny word. It caused me to put down the book and worship with a fresh heart. My cup of wonder, amazement and gratitude was dripping from the rim again. I was reading along at the beginning of John’s gospel when a simple two-letter word rocked my world. Perhaps it will mean nothing to you, but for me the lightning flashed and the thunder followed when I read the word, “he.”
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.  In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:1-5)
Did you see it? The Word, the Life, the Light is also a Him. He is alive and personal.

It’s risky to share your personal response to scripture. Huh? Others say. Yeah, so, what’s the big deal?

Like so many passages in the Bible, I am tempted to think I already know the truth: until the truth breaks into the room and becomes alive. What before had been only an idea came and sat by my side. The ink on the page is a mere cipher, a code devised by the cunning of men. When the true word was spoken the universe began to spin. There was no air to carry the sound. There were no ears to hear the command. There was simply the Word. And the Word was a Person. Personal. Real. Relational. Alive. All I needed to do was make space for him--not my ideas about Jesus, not my knowledge of him.

For me, the big deal is the amazing metamorphosis from Word to Person. Too often what passes for faith lives only in my head--the paltry collection of thoughts from (honestly) a bear of very little brain. I suspect the Word became flesh and lived among us, in part, to reinforce that brains have very little to do with real life. He is the source of life.

Do you want to experience his presence? Stop reading. Turn away from the screen, turn off the music, and invite him into the room. You won’t have to wait long.

I can keep a secret, but the people I tell--they can’t keep a secret! So, if I tell you a secret this Monday, it’s OK if you spill the beans.

• Contentment does not depend on circumstances: Paul could be content in the midst of plenty or little. In our world plenty is not enough: each of us know first-hand people who cannot be at rest even when they are surrounded by every comfort. Worse: some of us are those people.
• Contentment does not mean giving up: Paul still had places to go and things to do. He was not a fatalist who accepted every event in his life as the final word. Yet even when he faced obstacles and frustration he found contentment within.
• Contentment is not the result of positive thinking: There’s an old story about the child given a pile of horse manure for his birthday: he joyfully grabbed a shovel and said “there’s got to be a pony in there somewhere!” Not so. Sometimes there is no pony: life simply covers us with dung. The danger of positive thinking is that it comes from our own strength, and eventually that resource runs dry.

When comedian Steve Martin was trying to break into the big time, he refused to compromise is ground-breaking brand of comedy. His attitude was, “this is funny, you just haven't gotten it yet.” God’s sense of humor is the same: just stick around long enough and you, too, will laugh with all of heaven.

For example, when the disciples were faced with a crowd-control problem, Jesus suggested the answer was to invite everyone to dinner. It's hilarious. Before the evening was over, we are treated to the sight of each disciple lugging away a basketful of food. The joke was on them. They told the Lord, "let everyone fend for themselves," but Jesus knew that the path to abundance was caring for others.

As evening approached, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a remote place, and it’s already getting late. Send the crowds away, so they can go to the villages and buy themselves some food.”
Jesus replied, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”
“We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,” they answered.
“Bring them here to me,” he said. And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. The number of those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children. (Matthew 14:15-21)

Heaven rings with the laughter of paradox. Five plus two equals twelve baskets full. One plus One equals infinity. That day on the Galilean hillside Jesus had an object lesson for his friends. He could have lectured, but instead he invited his closest followers to participate in the crazy math of of God’s Kingdom.

School is in session for us, if we so choose:

• “You give them something to eat.” Jesus demonstrated that his ministry calls us to take responsibility for those who respond. When the workday was over, the disciples were ready to pack it in. Jesus invited his disciples to set a larger table, even if it seems ridiculous.
• “We have here only . . . ” The disciples looked at the “only,” Jesus looked at the bread and fish. The students saw their lack, the Master saw the possibilities. In the Kingdom of God we are asked to learn a new kind of math, the kind that starts with recognizing what is, not what is not.
• “He gave thanks . . .” Yes, I know, this is a commonplace observation. Everyone who studies this event notes that Jesus gave thanks. But the commonplace can become easy to ignore. Jesus demonstrated thanks-giving time and again. It was the Master’s habit. To become like Jesus is to live in mindset of perpetual thanks.
• “He broke the loaves . . .“ Too often, even in our thankfulness, we want to hold on to what we have. When Jesus broke the bread he demonstrated that what we have will be--must be--broken and shared. Even more amazing is the lesson that brokenness is God’s means of provision. When we hold back, others go hungry.
• “He gave . . . and the disciples gave.” Here is where the miracle happened, and how the miracle happened is instructive. Jesus included his disciples in the miraculous. What he gave to them was multiplied in their hands as they gave to others. How often do we hold on to what the Lord gives us? We are provided for, but we miss the miracle by keeping it to ourselves. Jesus laid down this ministry principle time and again: “Freely you’ve received, therefore freely give.” (Matthew 10:8)
• “The disciples picked up twelve baskets full.” On the back end of this supernatural meal was an abundant provision for each follower of Jesus. Because they tended to the needs of others, they themselves ended up with more food than they needed. Do we want abundant provision? The Lord recommends looking after the needs of others.

The laughter of heaven pours forth when we discover that it’s the Father’s joy to give, and give again. He wants us to be in on the joke. He invites us to confound the wisdom of the wise and the planning of the careful with hilarious generosity. It’s his idea of a good time. It can become ours as well.

Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. (Matthew 28: 16-17)

Why doesn’t everyone include verses 16 and 17 in the “Great Commission?” I suspect because these two verses include topics rarely discussed in the life a disciple: obedience and doubt. But it’s worth taking time to meditate on doubt, especially our own.

Imagine the scene around the resurrected Jesus: his best friends giving him worship in a private setting. They saw the resurrected Lord--his physical presence, yet in some minds and hearts there was still doubt. What amazes is me is the fact their doubt did not disqualify them. Jesus still received them, and he gave the “Great Commission.”

Doubt is a solitary struggle, while most expressions of worship are outward: we sing, kneel, pray, dance, bow, read, listen, and fellowship. Others see our actions, but this passage reminds us Jesus knows our hearts and thoughts as well. What kind of doubts did some of the disciples have? Matthew doesn't say. We are left to speculate: perhaps, “I don’t belong here . . . I denied the Lord . . . Have I gone mad? . . . Is this really Jesus? . . . What will he require of me?” I believe their worship was sincere; so were their doubts.

The doubting disciples had obeyed. They had made their way to Galilee, just as Jesus instructed. Jesus did not turn away the doubters, he received their worship and included them in his mission. Disobedience would have kept them from hearing his voice; doubt did not.

What if worship is giving all of ourselves to God--even the parts that struggle to believe, to trust, to surrender? Perhaps that day the doubters discovered Isaiah’s description of Jesus was true: “A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.” (Matt. 12:20)

Earlier in his ministry Jesus told his friends, “true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth.” Some people have interpreted "truth" to mean "doctrine," but what if Jesus also meant the truth about ourselves? Here’s a meditation worthy of the week: can I bring my doubts as an act of worship?