Daily Devotionals

John 21.9-19

I wonder what breakfast is like in your household. Is it a leisurely affair with coffee, bacon and the newspapers? A noisy tangle of bodies grabbing for the Coco Pops? A quick cereal bar snatched from the cupboard as you race out of the door? Often, the way we start our day sets the tone for what follows. 

Today’s reading describes Jesus’ approach to breakfast. It’s one of the handful of times that he appeared to his disciples between his death and ascension. In these precious moments, Jesus has important things to say to them. But not before they’ve eaten. Ever the servant king, he prepares a fire and cooks them some fish to eat. As he has shown with several culinary miracles already, Jesus provides his followers with their daily bread physically as well as spiritually. 

Here, when he meets them on the beach, he wants to make sure that they’re ready for what is coming next – and no one is at their best on an empty stomach. Spurgeon puts it like this: ‘Much had to be said and done; but they must breakfast first. They were to be questioned, rebuked, instructed, commissioned, warned; but they must first be fed. […] Things that were of prime importance must yet be kept back a little while, until they could bear them and profit by them.’

So the first thing Jesus says to his dearest friends is, ‘Come and eat.’ So it is with us. Jesus wants us to recline at the table with him, to be nourished and filled. To taste and see that he is good (Psalm 34.8). This is the crucial starting point, both for the disciplines and for us. Spurgeon continues, ‘Many things call for your earnest attention; but it will be poor haste if you rush to work without refreshing the inner man. Pause a while, and feast with your Lord, in order that you may be able to attend to your pressing duties.’

It is only once they have eaten that Jesus moves on to the serious business. Peter, once again warming himself before a fire, may already have been recalling his triple denial of his friend and rabbi. So when Jesus himself asks him the same question three times, it stings. But notice that the question is not, ‘Do you repent?’ It is, ‘Do you love me?’

This, too, is the most important question that faces us as Christians. Do you love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind? This is not the same thing as loving him perfectly. Peter knows this only too well. It means loving him ‘with the best love of which he, a sinful human being, is capable’ (James Boice). But it is only from this love that obedience flows. This is what allows Peter to stop looking backwards at his past failures and instead to look forward to the task that Jesus has for him. 

And it is once Peter has declared his love that Jesus reveals what this task is: ‘Feed my sheep.’ Just as I have fed you, says the Shepherd King, go and do the same for my flock. Love others as you love yourselves. This is, after all, how people will know that you are my disciples (John 13.34-35).  

N. T. Wright explains that Jesus’ words of commissioning to Peter are also words to us. ‘Here is the secret of all Christian ministry […] If you are going to do any single solitary thing as a follower and servant of Jesus, this is what it’s built on. Somewhere, deep down inside, there is a love for Jesus, and though (goodness knows) you’ve let him down enough times, he wants to find that love, to give you a chance to express it, to heal the hurts and failures of the past, and give you new work to do.’

This meal on the beach, then, comes at the start of a new day for Peter. He must learn what it means to be the disciple of a resurrected Lord. Jesus shows him that it starts with something as ordinary as breakfast. ‘Come and eat,’ he says, and be filled. ‘Do you love me?’ he asks, for that is all I require of you. ‘Feed my sheep,’ he instructs, for this is the overflow of our love for each other. ‘Follow me,’ he summarises – a call that we too can hear as we reach for our toast and marmalade. 

Risen Lord Jesus,
We love you. Thank you that you welcome sinners such as us to sit and eat with you. Help us to remember amid the rush of our busy lives to take the time to feast with you and be refreshed. Thank you that your grace is new every morning – that even when we fail you, you offer us forgiveness and continue to trust us to act as your hands and feet in the world. Fill us with your love that we might follow you in caring for your sheep. 
Amen

John 20.19-31

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Yet so far, Jesus has only appeared to Mary Magdalene. In today’s passage, it’s the disciples’ turn to encounter Him.

Have you ever waited with bated breath for something you weren’t quite sure was going to happen or not? Imagine the disciples hearing that Mary has seen Jesus. This, after his brutal crucifixion. This, after his certified burial. Feel their incredulity, confusion, trepidation and ever-so-slight sliver of hope… only for Jesus to suddenly appear in their house where they were cowering behind locked doors!

It’s easy enough to point fingers at the disciples, to criticise or mock them. But maybe our responses wouldn’t have been all that different. Maybe we might even have similar reactions today. Let’s look at three things we can learn about the resurrected Jesus: PEACE, PURPOSE, PATIENCE.

Verse 19 reveals that the disciples were hiding with the doors ‘locked for fear of the Jews’ – understandable really, considering what they’d just seen them do to their Lord and Master. It was only a matter of time before the knocks on the door demanding their arrest and death, right? Yet in the next verse, this very fear turns into rejoicing! All it took was Jesus to appear in their midst, alive and well, bearing the physical marks of his death.

I wonder if you’ve ever found yourself in a fearful situation only to find joy in God’s presence and salvation?

I know I’m not the only one who notices that Jesus says ‘Peace be with you’ three times (vv. 19, 21, 26). It’s often said as a polite greeting in church nowadays, but in this case the disciples must have really needed it!

The first point is that the resurrected Jesus brings PEACE, even in the most hopeless of situations. Already He fulfils what He promised in John 14.27: ‘Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.’ Fear is a natural part of our lives. But we can believe that Jesus does and will give us peace ‘which surpasses all understanding’ (Philippians 4.7).

Jesus then does two things: He announces that He is sending them out, and He breathes on them so they can receive the Holy Spirit.

We were never meant to keep Jesus to ourselves. His promise of eternal life isn’t just for me and you. He died and rose again for everyone! We cannot be myopic and inward-looking; rather we must respond to Jesus’ commission (or co-mission) to seek and save the lost.

But we cannot do this alone. Just as the Father sent His Spirit upon Jesus before His ministry, so too does Jesus breathe His Spirit upon us. Did you know that the Greek word for ‘breathe’ is the same word used in the Greek Old Testament when God breathes life into Adam (Genesis 2.7), and when the dry bones are raised to life (Ezekiel 37.9)?

The second point is that the resurrected Jesus gives us PURPOSE, and He also gives us life and authority to fulfil it. He gives us His Spirit to go out into the world; and we can only go out into the world if we have His Spirit. It’s a both/and!

Did you notice that locked doors couldn’t keep Jesus out? It shows that his resurrected body didn’t have the same limitations as our physical bodies. He could very well have said, ‘Don’t touch! Don’t gawk! Hands off!’ Yet He doesn’t withhold Himself from His disciples, even giving Thomas permission to touch His wounds as proof of His death and resurrection.

Thomas is an interesting figure: he goes from stubborn unbelief to wholehearted confession of Jesus: ‘My Lord and my God!’ (v. 28) One thing’s for sure – you can’t fault the man for his honesty. But what is even more astounding is Jesus’ acquiescence to Thomas’ demands.

The third point is that the resurrected Jesus demonstrates PATIENCE and immense grace. Even when we doubt, even when we struggle to believe, He invites us closer to reassure us of His goodness and love. He’s not obligated to meet our demands, yet He always meets us where we’re at.

But make no mistake: Jesus calls us to higher faith. ‘Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.’ (v. 29) The journey of following Jesus is truly one where ‘we walk by faith, not by sight.’ (2 Cor 5.7)

Let’s pray.

Lord, help us to believe in You more and more. Increase and strengthen our faith in You. Thank You that You are patient with us when we doubt. Thank You that You are the bringer of peace when we are fearful. Thank You for the gift of eternal life. Fill us with Your Holy Spirit to empower us for the purpose of sharing You with those who don’t know You yet. Restore unto us the joy of your salvation, and renew a right spirit within us. In Your name we pray, Amen.

John 20.1-18

The John Rylands Library in Manchester has on display a tiny fragment of papyrus, smaller than a credit card, entitled ‘Rylands Library Papyrus P52’. Not an especially enthralling name, but when I first saw it I was filled with an almost giddy excitement.

Why? Well the ‘Rylands Library Papyrus P52’ has an alternative name: the ‘St John’s Fragment’. Most scholars agree that it is the earliest existing fragment of a New Testament text, and the most widely accepted theories suggest it probably dates from some time in the second century AD. Why did I find that so exciting?

Well, partly just because I love old stuff, but mostly because the apostle John lived to be very old himself, probably dying in his nineties around the year 100AD. And so – while no one knows anything much about the scribe who wrote ‘Papyrus P52’– I imagined the possibility that that scribe might have lived at the same time as, maybe even had mutual acquaintances with, or perhaps, just perhaps, may have met the aged apostle John. Was I looking at a page written upon by someone who knew a man, who actually knew Jesus? And not just knew Jesus, but who, as today’s reading tells us, was one of the first to see and believe in the universe-shifting, once-in-history event that is the resurrection of Jesus Christ? We often describe the gospels as being eyewitness accounts of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. But in this handwriting, I felt a closer connection to the eyewitness of John. In this tiny piece of papyrus, I found the truth of the gospel and the resurrection suddenly felt tangibly closer for me – bringing deeper awe and wonder.

It is so easy to forget that nobody, not even his closest disciples, saw the resurrection coming. At the start of our passage no one knew Jesus was going to rise from the dead – what we’re reading of are the very first people to believe and to see the resurrection.

But for us, this is probably an overly-familiar passage. In fact, I wonder if the story of the empty tomb is one of the most well-known stories in all of history.

But let’s try to see it afresh. In looking at it to prepare this devotional I was struck by how small that story starts.

John’s honesty is humbling. He doesn’t tell you about how he knew it was coming: instead acknowledging that they didn’t understand. He says that he and Peter weren’t there first, that Mary was; that he was afraid to go into the tomb.

When he does go in, he sees the grave clothes laid out as though Jesus has shed them like a cocoon. No one has come and taken the body with the grave clothes, nor have they unwrapped Jesus and discarded the wrappings. Jesus has stepped out of the grave clothes for which he – as the now living Lord – has no need. John sees this and he believes.

Mary, still overcome with grief, weeps that Jesus’ dead body has been taken. But moments later, when she finds herself face-to-face with the resurrected Christ, he is full of beautiful tenderness for her and calls her by name. He shows he knows her, she finds that she recognises him, and she too believes.

And then she is given the joy and responsibility of being the first person to announce that she has seen the risen Lord.

This story, so widely known in history and across the globe, starts that small. Two men who half understand, one woman who has seen the resurrected Christ. The odds of her being believed, of that story making any impact upon the world: I wouldn’t like to guess how slim they are. But, Mary does what she’s been asked to do, she goes, and she tells the disciples she has seen Jesus.

Such a small beginning. But odds don’t really mean anything when you’re dealing with the Son of God who has defeated death, so with the resurrecting power of God behind it, my, does that story grow.

Josephine Butler, a nineteenth century Christian social reformer from the north east (after whom one of the Durham University colleges, amongst other things, is named), once said “One woman and God is a majority” – perhaps this has never been truer than at the beginning of the spread of the news of Jesus’ resurrection.

On that first Easter morning no one believed that Jesus would rise from the dead, but that truth that he did, has passed, from person to person, from heart to heart like the flames of thousands upon thousands of candles all being lit from one small spark. A flame that has spread almost unimaginably far across time and space.

Perhaps you have a single moment when you first saw the truth of the resurrection. Perhaps it was a longer, slower realisation, with Thomas-like initial doubts or uncertainties. But, however we have come to say we believe, however that ever-spreading flame was ignited in our hearts, my prayer is that in looking at it again, we’ll feel it tangibly close; that we’ll see more of the wonder of knowing the risen Lord and hearing him call us too.

Maybe a moment of feeling new awe and wonder will come by considering carefully the viewpoint of each person in the story; maybe it’ll come by studying the robust historical evidences and logical arguments for the truth of the resurrection.

Or maybe we’ll find them in something as unremarkable as taking a trip to a library. In seeing a tiny piece of papyrus and finding ourselves strangely connected to an unknown scribe, to John, and to Mary; knowing that our faith in the resurrection connects us to them, as we also say ‘I believe’.

Heavenly Father,
We thank you for the resurrection of Jesus, our Lord and Saviour. We praise you for your power which has defeated death, and so gives life to us. Forgive us when we are dismissive of it through familiarity, and by your spirit, please fan into flame the fire of faith within us, that we may confidently say, with our hearts and lives, that we believe in our risen and glorified Lord.
Amen.

John 11.1-44 (reading includes verses 1-7, 17-29, 32-44)

This is a story many of us know. A story of life and death – and life again, foreshadowing Jesus’ own resurrection. But its also a story about faith and love. 

The life and death in question are those of a young man – who lives with his older sisters, Martha and Mary in Bethany; just a few miles from Jerusalem. They have become friends of Jesus, hosting him and his disciples and so when Lazarus becomes seriously ill, they send for their friend and rabbi. They are certain of 2 things – 1. he loves them, and 2. he has the power to heal… they’ve seen him do it many, many times. 

The complicating factor is that at the end of chapter 10 the religious leaders had essentially taken out a hit on Jesus life… they wanted him dead and he had left the region as a result. So, coming back to answer the plea of Mary and Martha means Jesus putting his life on the line. In fact, verses 7-16 tell of the disciples’ discussion about going back – and in the end Thomas suggests “Let us go that we may die with him!” Going back to help puts them all at risk. 

However, we know that’s not why Jesus delayed. He delayed because the father told him to. Because it was time to show what the power of God really looked like. More than multiplying food, healing the ill, casting out demons – it was time for the true extent of the kingdom to be revealed. 

And this is where the love and faith kick in. Because Jesus truly DID love his friends, Martha, Mary and Lazarus, he was fully aware of what waiting was going to do to them. 

• That Lazarus was going to die, feeling afraid and abandoned. 
• That Martha was going to be furious, angry with Jesus for not coming sooner – we hear that in her words. When they sent for Jesus the message was, “He who you love is ill”. When she races to meet him on the road she says “MY brother.” I was with him Jesus – WHERE WERE YOU?
• And he knew that gentle Mary would have her heart broken. Sobbing at his feet, her grief and disappointment with him raw, her distress so palpable that it reduced him to tears too. 

Jesus knew the waiting would break their hearts. But it seems to me that he knew that the mutual love they had meant he could trust them. He trusted their faith in him. And he was right to. 

Martha, despite her grief and anger STILL believed he was the Messiah, still believed in the resurrection. She wasn’t sure he loved them anymore, but she still believed he was from God – her faith was intact. 

And Mary still knelt at his feet. She still came when he called for her. She still l called him her Lord, even in her sorrow. 

Jesus knew that the other side of the waiting in hope, the disappointment, grief and anger they would feel, was something that would blow their minds. A blessing so remarkable that it would change not only their lives, but the lives of everyone who would ever hear the story. Something that means 2000 years on they still have the honour of being known by all those who follow their rabbi. 

THEY would experience the defeat of death. They would experience the joy of resurrection. They would be the first to realise what the power of God means for those who put their faith in Jesus. 

Because he knew they loved him, Jesus trusted them.

I wonder whether you’ve ever considered that Jesus might have faith in you?

So often, when things go wrong or when our prayers aren’t answered we can wonder where Jesus is? it can feel like he is delaying, and we can decide that means he doesn’t love us. 

This story shows us that that is not how things work in the economy of the kingdom. As we were recently reminded, Jesus did say that hard times will come. That his people will face difficulty – just like all humanity does. We are not promised health, wealth and prosperity when we become followers of Jesus. And we are not promised resurrection of hopes, dreams, bodies on our own terms, with our own timing. But we are promised 3 things. 

Firstly, that our prayers, our cries, our tears are precious to God. In fact, the psalmist says he collects our tears in a bottle. Jesus didn’t tell Martha to calm down or Mary to pull herself together – he acknowledged their anger and pain, shared it – and wept with them. 

Secondly, we can be certain that we are loved. That never changed for Mary and Martha, just because Jesus wasn’t working on their timescale didn’t mean he didn’t love them. His love for his friends, including us, does not waver – he just has more for us than we can actually imagine; something bigger is always going on. Something which looks different from an eternal perspective. 

And thirdly, we are promised that ultimately God will bring good out of all circumstances for those who love him. It was about a week from them sending the message to Jesus finally arriving. That’s a long week, but there was a purpose. First century Jews believed that the human spirit hung around the grave for 3 days, on day 4 they were gone, the person was really dead. Jesus waited so everyone knew he hadn’t resuscitated Lazarus but had really brought him back from the grave. Resurrected him. 

And that resurrection power is still at work. Transforming lives. 

Even if there is something you hoped or dreamt for that you think is dead and gone, beyond possibility – Jesus CAN still bring it back. 

Even if something feels like it has broken down, that it is rotten, stinking – Jesus can give it new life. 

And ultimately, we are promised that those who are in Christ will one day be resurrected themselves – as Lazarus was, and as Jesus himself would be too. 

There’s a lot of emotion going on in this little story, both awful and awesome. But the love, faith and power of Jesus runs through it all. Ultimately this is a story about hope and joy – and that is the ultimate promise of God. Hope eternal and joy unending – one day. 

Let’s pray. 

Jesus – please give us confidence to know how much you love us. That regardless of whether our hearts are warm or cold towards you right now, yours beats for us and you have faith in us. Help us offer you our tears and joys, hopes and fears, successes and disappointments. And to know that they are all precious to you, that you walk with us in them all. And reassure us that you are the defeater of death, the one with the power to breathe resurrection life into our  situations, circumstances, dreams and visions. And ultimately, one day into our very beings.Help us to stand secure in the promise of resurrection for all those who are in Christ Jesus. 

And all god’s people said… AMEN!

John 10.11-18

And so we come today to another passage in John’s Gospel which points forwards to Jesus’ resurrection. ‘I am the Good Shepherd’. This is the fourth of seven ‘I am’ statements in John’s Gospel, each of which revealing something unique about Jesus’ character and purpose.

‘I am the Good Shepherd’. In just five words, Jesus has revealed something ground-breaking not only about who He is, but also who we are. In this passage, Jesus is speaking to the Pharisees, the Jewish teachers of the law. By claiming that he is the ‘Good Shepherd’ He is indicating that he fulfills the Old Testament prophecies that the Messiah will be a shepherd to the flock of Israel and this would not have passed the Pharisees by. King David wrote in his famous Psalm that ‘The Lord is my Shepherd’ and the prophet Ezekiel prophesied in Ezekiel 34: ‘As a shepherd looks after his scattered flock when he is with them, so will I look after my sheep.’ (Ezekiel 34.12).  Any Jew listening would have made the connection. Jesus is claiming to be the Messiah.

But He’s claiming more than that. Jesus portraying Himself as the Good Shepherd is a beautiful picture of God caring for His flock, providing for their needs and protecting them from harm. We are His flock. Jesus cares deeply for our needs and He provides for us. Perhaps that’s the truth you need to hear today.

But taking it even further still, Jesus says ‘the Good Shepherd lays his life down for the sheep’. He is so devoted to his sheep that, unlike the hired-hand, he is prepared to lose his own life in order to protect the lives of his sheep. Jesus laid his life down for us, he laid down his life for you and for me, so that we could be free from the bondage of sin and come to the Father.

Next Jesus says in verse 14: ‘I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep.’ This is an astonishing statement, but it’s so easy to just let it wash over us. Jesus and the Father are in perfect relationship and know each other so deeply and intimately. And yet Jesus says that in the same way, Jesus knows us and we know Him. We, too, are invited into this beautiful relationship. We too are known deeply and intimately and, even more astonishingly, we know and love the Lord Jesus as well. Verse 16 is a comfort to those of us who are gentiles. We were not of the original flock of the Lord, but we too have heard and responded to Jesus’ voice and are now part of the one flock, with one shepherd.

 And now we come to the climax of the passage. This is the bit which would have really ruffled the listening Pharisees’ metaphorical feathers. Jesus says in verses 17-18:

“For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father.”

Jesus says he has power to lay his life down and also has the power to take it up again. Jesus has essentially claimed to be God, for only God could have the authority to take up his own life again. On his journey to the cross and on the cross itself, Jesus was in control, He knew what He was doing. No one took his life from Him. He willingly, knowingly and lovingly laid His life down for His sheep. But he not only knowingly sacrificed His life, but, incredibly, He had power to take it up again. Jesus defeated death, rose to new life, making the way for us to do the same.

Those listening to this prophecy responded in different ways. Some thought Jesus was a mad man, or was possessed by a demon. But others weren’t so sure, they had seen Jesus’ healing powers, and were starting to wonder whether there might be some truth in Jesus’ words.  

How will you respond to Jesus’ words today? Will you take some time to dwell on the truth that Jesus is your Good Shepherd, who knows what you need and will care for you. Will you take time to listen to Jesus’ voice, perhaps spending some time in a quiet place, making room for your Good Shepherd to speak. Or perhaps you want to spend some time praising the Lord Jesus, thanking Him for His perfect, once-and-for-all sacrifice; a sacrifice given willingly, knowingly and lovingly for us. Jesus laid His life down for His sheep and only Jesus had the power and authority to take His life back up again.

Praise be to God!

Let’s take a moment to pray:

Father God, thank you that Jesus is our Good Shepherd but that He was also our sacrificial lamb. Thank you that he laid down his life for us, but thank you that He also had the power to take His life up again. Help us to live each moment of every day in awe and wonder at the indescribable gift given to us through Jesus’ Christ. In His precious name we pray, Amen.

Matthew 12.38-42

Welcome to our daily devotional reflections for the period from Easter to Pentecost. We’re going to continue the story of Jesus by looking beyond his earthly ministry, his life and his death, by bringing into focus his subsequent career as the risen, ascended, glorified, enthroned and reigning Lord. To put it flippantly – if you have ever wondered what Jesus does all day this is the series for you! As we close in on Pentecost we will look again at the work of the ascended Lord Jesus pouring out the gift of the Spirit on the church. The focus of this series is thematic instead of a set of continuous readings through a single book. But the risen Lord Jesus is the theme. We’re beginning with gospel texts in which Jesus points forward to his resurrection during his ministry.

Mention the name of Jonah to a child in church and their eyes will light up. By word association the next word is always ‘whale’.  You might even have heard the late 19th century story of James Bartley, a young man rescued alive after 36 hours from the stomach of a sperm whale off the Falklands. Bartley came out bleached, the whale fared less well. The outline of the four chapters of Jonah’s story is pretty well known, though one detail will help us to see Jesus’ point. Jonah, the reluctant prophet, was told by God to head East and call Nineveh to repentance. So he climbed into a boat and headed West across the Med, kidding himself that he could run away from God. In a great storm he fessed up, was thrown overboard, was swallowed by a divinely appointed ‘great fish’ and thrown up on the beach. He trudged East at last, preached to Nineveh as originally commanded and then he moaned at God when his preaching was successful and people repented. Annoyed by a God with too little ‘smite’ and too great a capacity to change his mind and show ‘mercy’, Jonah sulked under a shady bush. God then killed off the bush to demonstrate to Jonah that he cared disproportionately for his own comfort rather than for the spiritual well-being of Nineveh. Ironically, Jonah’s last prayer reverses his first: having asked to live in Jonah 2, he now asks to die in Chapter 4. Every time I’m tempted to think: ‘silly Jonah’, I am immediately called up short: how often do I think I can get away with things without God noticing, as if I could outrun or outfox him? How often do I harbour irritation when God embraces those that I (secretly of course) think less than worthy? And how often do I value my own comfort above God’s pleasure and God’s purposes?

But that key detail I mentioned comes in Chapter 2: does Jonah cry to escape death as Bartley did? Or does he die and then come back to life? Some phrases in Jonah 2 weigh on both sides of this well-worn argument. But Jesus clearly took the second view. Jonah went down to Sheol, to death, whose ‘bars closed over him forever’ and when he was spewed back onto the land, this was Jonah’s resurrection.

Now we’re back to Jesus in the Gospel. People come to Jesus to ask for a miracle to prove his authority and authenticity. Jesus, who did many many miracles, will not play the performing monkey. But there’s more to it than this. Rather he knows their heart. No proof is enough for them. No proof will ever be enough. When Jonah came back to life after three days, Nineveh repented. But Jesus opponents won’t – if they won’t listen to the Scriptures, even the resurrection will not be enough. Exactly the same idea is there in the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus in Luke 16. Begged by Dives to go and tell his brothers of the terrible post-mortem suffering he is undergoing, Abraham replies: ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, they will not listen, even if someone were to rise from the dead’. Scripture and the resurrection are two great deal-breakers. Either you hear what God has to say to you or you refuse. Either you believe that God has spoken in Christ or you turn away. Either you believe in the life giving power of the creator God or you do not. Even when the consistent testimony of Scripture and the evidence for the resurrection is so clear and persuasive we can still harden our hearts. Faith is not on the basis of scientific investigation or empirical proof. These are not wrong in themselves but the Scriptures and the power of God conspire together to demand of us hearts strangely warmed to the love, grace and saving power of God in the Lord Jesus Christ. Jesus ends with a terrible warning: Nineveh repented when Jonah rolled up and the Queen of Sheba travelled hundred of miles to hear the wisdom of Solomon. Both will stand witness by the softness of their hearts to Jonah and Solomon that those who harden their hearts to the resurrected Messiah have hard hearts indeed. The resurrection demands of us a hearing for the one who rose again. But the work of embracing this is done in our own hearts.

Let’s pray. 

Lord the way of the world around us is to be too addicted to the evidence of our eyes and too little softened to the revelatory work of the Holy Spirit in us. Soften our hearts anew to your Holy Spirit and open our eyes once again to your Word so that we can see afresh your truth, your light, your power, your grace, and your love in the face of our risen Lord Jesus.
Amen.

This Easter Monday we come to the end of our journey through Matthew’s gospel and find ourselves in the climax of a story that is repeated again and again in the films that we watch and the novels that we read. Christopher Marlowe wrote that Helen of Troy had a face to launch a thousand ships, but from here at the end of Matthew’s gospel are launched thousands of stories of death and resurrection, from Harry Potter to Star Wars, stories that we never tire of listening to. Because this is the biggest twist in the tale that there ever was, the ending that we hoped for, but never dared believe could be true. Jesus was crucified to death, but death is not the last word.  

As I write from my garden, I spot some adventurous field-mice take their chances to sneak past a sleeping dog. I’m reminded of a scene in C. S. Lewis’ The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. Aslan, the great lion, is dead, having been trussed up and slaughtered by the evil Queen with a cold knife upon an ancient altar. His enemies have departed and now two girls, Susan and Lucy, come to care for his body. They try in vain to loosen the cords that have bound him and are surprised when some mice come to gnaw through the ropes; mice like the ones I’ve found in my garden. Of course, Lewis was writing about Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, who are helpless in the face of death, unable to free the one that they love. They come only to “see the tomb” and to prepare the body. I wonder if as they came, was there any glimmer of hope at all, any memory of Jesus saying three times that he would suffer and then rise from the dead. It seems that the only thing they expected to find was a cold, dead corpse. But what do they find?

Well everything comes thick and fast. They find a great earthquake, a rolled back stone, an angel dazzling as lightening and the guards paralysed with fear as if dead. And then these words from the angel that echo down the ages every Easter:

“He is not here, He has risen!”

In other words, who looks for bread at the butchers? The world has changed forever and you’re looking in the wrong place! All of history is torn apart; death is being undone in a way that has never happened before. There have been resurrections even within Jesus’ own ministry – a widow’s son and Jairus’ daughter among others. But these were all fleeting; the widow’s son and Jairus’ daughter would die again. Now something is happening that defies all that we have ever observed to be true in this world. The hands of the clock are turning back upon themselves. 

And as the two Marys leave, going with fear and great joy, we read so simply, “Jesus met them,” saying, “Greetings!” In reply they have no words to offer, but only taking hold of his feet, “they worshipped.” These women are the first witnesses to the resurrection, and their response is what ours should be today, to worship at His feet.

Woe to the storyteller that leaves his readers with any tantalising plot holes or unanswered questions, and as a good writer, Matthew is keen to tie up any potential loose ends. So now we have a brief aside to explain what happened to the guards. They’re given a paper-thin explanation to defend themselves: guards that couldn’t guard, overcome by sleep who somehow allowed terrified disciples to move the stone and steal away Jesus’ crucified body. These sleepy guards had one eye open to identify the grave robbers but not two eyes open to stop them. Matthew makes his point: however earth-shattering and unbelievable the resurrection might be, this alternative conspiracy theory makes absolutely no sense at all.

And here comes the final word. Jesus’ disciples gather to Him at a pre-arranged mountain, and now it’s their time to worship like the women did earlier. What comes next is what’s known as the “Great Commission.” It’s Jesus’ charge to His followers that has been kept by the church for the past two thousand years, a relay baton passed from generation to generation, a golden chain that has never been broken. I remember standing at the back of a hot London Baptist church on a Sunday evening, listening to the preacher close his sermon with these words and I turned to the man next to me to ask, “What was that?” It’s the charge that Jesus gives not just to His apostles but to each of His disciples. He charges us to go; to go into all the nations, to make disciples and to do that by baptising them, and by teaching them. Not simply teaching them an intellectual assent but teaching them to observe all that He commanded. After all, it was the man that heard and did what Jesus taught who was commended as one who built his house upon the rock. And now comes the final promise. Matthew began His Gospel describing Jesus as “Immanuel”, God with us, and this is how we finish, Jesus really is with us: “Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

So here we are. That pivotal point in human history – the cross. Over the last few days, we have reflected on the betrayal of Judas, the cowardice of Pilate, the capriciousness of the crowd, the scorn of the soldiers, the taunting of the bandits. Now… darkness.

Jesus cries out – and loudly: ‘My God, why have you abandoned me?’ Much ink has been spilled over the meaning of these seven words, but the pain and desolation of Jesus are clear. Many of the bystanders misunderstood, perhaps thinking that ‘Eli, Eli’ was Jesus calling to the prophet Elijah to come to his aid. Some, at the time, believed that Elijah might appear in times of critical need, to rescue the righteous. Matthew is keen for us to hear the echoes of the psalmist’s words in Psalm 22. Jesus cried out again with a loud voice – and breathed his last. At that moment, that very moment, at that cry of anguish – the curtain in the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.

The curtain is first mentioned in Exodus during the construction of the Tabernacle. Made from coloured yarn and woven, twisted linen and beautifully embroidered, this curtain was thick and strong. It separated the Holy of Holies, the place where God dwelt, from the rest of the Tabernacle where the people worshipped. Only the High Priest could enter the Holy of Holies, and only once a year, bearing sacrificial blood to atone for the sins of the people. Separation from God was the accepted norm and temporary forgiveness came through priestly mediation. This model was then replicated in the grandeur of the Temple in Jerusalem.

At the very moment of Christ’s death, that huge, thick curtain ripped open from top to bottom. Heaven met earth and various other literally earth-shattering events took place. The relationship between heaven and earth was being rewritten. Through the forsaken abandonment of one, God’s holy presence was now made available to all.

Through the death of one, many are offered life.

Enter Joseph of Arimathea. A wealthy and well-respected man, Joseph was, himself, a follower of Jesus. This would not have been an easy balance to strike as a member of the council. Going directly to Pilate to ask for body of Jesus was a bold move – one might even say, risky. And in an extraordinary act of love and generosity, Joseph buries Jesus in his own tomb, that he had created with his own hand. One can only imagine how he must have been feeling.

The next day, suspicion and speculation appeared to be rife. In another act of appeasement, Pilate agrees to a guard (either Roman or a member of the temple police) being deployed to make the tomb secure.

Of course, relying on human strength and power to deal with problems was a well-recognised Roman strategy! They believed in the might and power of the Roman Empire. Those who opposed them were swiftly and brutally dealt with. But here is the beauty in the brutality: that Roman symbol of humiliation, rejection and death became, instead, God’s incredible gift of acceptance, forgiveness and life.

The cross is a place of unfathomable opposites; a pivotal moment that pervades the whole of human history; the juxtaposition of God’s love and God’s judgement; a place of divine exchange.

So, in the darkness of this narrative, let’s pause.

Jesus endured brutal punishment; we can receive mercy.

Jesus faced the horror and the trauma of the cross.

We are offered peace with God. Jesus faced despair.

We are given hope. Jesus experienced total abandonment. We are adopted forever.

Jesus was broken so that we could be completely restored and made whole.

The cross is, indeed, the culmination of God’s promises and the fulfilment of his purposes.

Today is Good Friday. It may feel as though darkness is over the whole land. Take heart. We worship a God of opposites, who has promised never to forsake us. The curtain has not just been lifted – it has been completely ripped away! So, come into God’s presence boldly. We worship a holy God.

Sunday is coming…

Lord Jesus,
We thank you. How frail our words can seem, but we thank you. Help us not to be afraid of the darkness. Today, we put our trust and our hope in you. Teach us what it means to dwell at the foot of your cross, acknowledging our unworthiness, but also our worth in you. Tear away the ‘curtains’ of our hearts and minds. Reveal to us afresh the significance of your death on the cross, the doorway to eternal life.
Amen.

It is difficult not to be deeply affected by the cruelty and brutality displayed in today’s passage. It’s hard to read, and is even harder because we know and love Jesus, He is our Lord. And it’s harder still because we know what is coming. We know this passage is just the prelude to the most painful death imaginable.

We rejoin the story in the Roman Governor’s Hall. It’s a harrowing scene. The soldiers beat Jesus, they mock Him, they dress Him up as if He were a King. They put a robe on Him, they force a crown of thorns upon His head. They bow down in jest before him, hailing Him as if He were a King.

But we know that He is a King. He’s our King. And it is right that we worship Him, it is right that we bow down before Him, but not like this.

The Roman soldiers thought they had the power and the authority over Jesus. But they were mistaken. The power and the authority belong to Jesus and yet He was prepared to lay it down for our sake.

As I was reflecting, I was struck by the many times that I figuratively dress myself up as if I were a King. It’s so easy to pretend that we are in charge, that we’re in control. We want to prove ourselves, prove that we know best, even to God Himself.

But Jesus didn’t need to prove Himself. He knew who He was. He knew whose Son He was and therefore He was able to withstand torture, mockery and even the most dreadful death. He kept His eyes on what He knew He needed to do.

And then the soldiers led Jesus away to be crucified. They forced Simon from Cyrene to carry the cross. The events which unfold next fulfill that which was prophesied in Psalm 22, which says:

my mouth is dried up like a potsherd,
and my tongue sticks to my jaws;
you lay me in the dust of death.

Psalm 22:15 (ESV)

and a bit later on

They stare and gloat over me;
they divide my clothes among themselves,
and for my clothing they cast lots.

Psalm 22:17-18 (ESV)

And then the Roman soldiers sat down. Their work there was finished. All they had to do was sit, watch and wait until all three people being crucified were dead. But Jesus’ work was not yet finished. Jesus’ incredible work of salvation was not yet done, but it soon would be.

Jesus had yet to endure the most unimaginable physical as well as mental pain. Even the two rebels being crucified next to Jesus were hurling insults at Him. Those standing by mocked Him, asking why he was not able to save Himself when he claimed to be the Son of God. And yet even at this moment of intense pain, Jesus was only ever full of love. He was only ever full of forgiveness for those who had caused Him such agony.

The plaque above Jesus’ head read ‘This is Jesus, the King of the Jews’. It was meant to mock Jesus. It was meant to show Jesus up, it was meant to show that Jesus was so far from the royalty He claimed to be. But this could not be any further from the truth.

Jesus may not have looked like a King in human terms. In this passage, Jesus was vulnerable, naked, bruised and shamed. No one would have taken a second glance at Him hanging on the cross. And yet Jesus never took His eyes off us.

Even though we had turned our backs on Him, He turned His face towards the cross. Even though Jesus did not deserve to die, because of Him, we received life which we could never have deserved. Even though we were once far off, we have been brought near to God through the precious blood of Jesus, shed for us on the cross.

But we know the story does not finish at the cross. We know this is not the end. But let’s take a pause this week. Let’s take some time to slow down and gaze at Jesus on the cross. Let’s sit at His feet, take time to repent from our sins and experience the freedom and grace we have received through His sacrifice.

Let’s take a moment to pray:

Heavenly Father, it is hard for us to comprehend what Jesus went through on the cross for our sake. We are so unworthy of what Jesus did, and yet, because of His sacrifice, we have been made worthy. Help us this week not to rush ahead to the joy and celebration of Easter Sunday, but to sit with the pain of Good Friday. Thank you for the gift of your Son, Jesus Christ. In His precious and almighty name we pray,
Amen.