THE CAUSE OF DISCIPLESHIP
There is no story more important to mankind than that of Jesus the Christ, the Messiah of mankind, the Savior of souls, the Lamb of God, the Redeemer of the unworthy. But never has it come under stronger attack than in our day, as those who truly believe in his divine mission dwindle in number.
There are hundreds of millions who call themselves Christians, including many who are terrorizing Northern Ireland and Eastern Europe. Those who truly understand Jesus’ mission and have become his disciples in word and deed are probably numbered in the hundreds of thousands.
As evidence from the Dead Sea scrolls reveals a "Christian" community in the Israeli desert before Christ’s birth, more supposed scholars join the ranks of skeptics who question Jesus’ divinity. Never mind that the pre-Christ Christians themselves -- like John the Baptist -- still expected the Messiah to come. Their prophet received "Christian" teachings by revelation. Did not Jesus receive his from the same source?
True religion from the days of Adam and Jacob and Moses, through the time of Jesus Christ, and still today, must come from God. Either God reveals himself and the truths by which he governs the universe, or he remains forever hidden.
Many times we jump to conclusions because we think we understand something we really do not understand at all. Such was the case with
Nathanael when Phillip told him he had found the Messiah--Jesus of Nazareth. "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" asked Nathanael. He expected the Messiah to come from Bethlehem and did not understand Jesus’ history. But within minutes he was convinced of Jesus’ destiny.
Phillip answered Nathanael simply and appropriately: "Come and see."
That is the same invitation we must give skeptics and half-believers. If they will "come and see" and seek understanding through study and prayer, and if they will apply the teachings and become worthy of the promptings of the Holy Spirit--that same Spirit that inspired Jesus, John the Baptist, the pre-Christians, and those who have followed Jesus since his death--then they will come to the same conclusion as Nathanael ultimately did.
As Nathanael approached Jesus with Phillip, Jesus cried out, "Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile!"
How did Jesus know him, Nathanael asked. Jesus said he had seen him in vision under a fig tree just before Philip found him--just before Nathanael had blurted out his skepticism.
"Rabbi, thou are the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel," responded Nathanael. Jesus smiled knowingly. "Thou shalt see greater things than these," he said.
Before long, as Nathanael himself was sent out to share the Gospel, he was probably confronted with that same question he had asked: "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?" As he watched his Master at work, he could have compiled a list of witnesses, as did the Gospel writers, to help answer that question.
He could have asked the beggars along the road, like the lonely cripple, deformed and hardly capable of bodily movement. For 38 years he laid along the roadways begging for pennies to keep from starving to death. Most people would try to keep their distance, try not even to notice that dirty, starving beggar. They’d rather not have to think about him.
The deformed beggar apparently had been abandoned even by friends and relatives, for each year he would tediously drag himself to the side of the pool of water called Bethesda. According to tradition, an angel descended yearly to stir the water. The first person to enter the water after the angel came would be healed. It was here that the poor beggar was waiting when Jesus walked by.
"Would you be made whole," Jesus asked.
"Sir," responded the beggar humbly. "I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me."
That pitiful man did not presume to ask Jesus to wait and help him. He had no idea how long it would be before the angel came. But as the beggar contemplated his plight, he heard the authoritative command of the Messiah: "Rise, take up thy bed and walk" (John 5:8).
Imagine the beggar’s tearful joy at suddenly having a whole and strong body after having groveled in the dust for 38 long years.
Similarly, Nathanael could ask the blind beggar. From birth he never knew the light of day. Never knew the beauty of the sunrise, nor the richness of the blue summer skies. All he knew was the daily struggle for survival. Being pushed out of people’s way and derided. I can hear the busy merchants and town leaders shouting at him. "Get out of the way, you bum. You’re in our way. Go beg someplace else!"
Suddenly, through the Lord’s healing power, the whole world opened up unto him. The people who lived in the neighborhood where the blind man customarily begged could not believe what had happened. "Is this not the blind man that has sat along the road and begged all these years?" asked some. Others answered: "It cannot be. He just looks like him."
But the beggar shouted with joy, "It is I! I can now see! It was Jesus that healed me!"
Before the end of the Lord’s ministry on earth, there were thousands who could answer that question: "Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?"
There was the nobleman who personally went searching in the wilderness to have Jesus just say the word to have his son healed far off in Capernaum. There were the lepars Jesus healed, and the thousands whose hunger he satisfied with just a few fishes and loaves of bread.
There was the father who pleaded with Jesus after the disciples failed in casting out an evil spirit. The man pleaded for the Lord’s mercy and compassion. "If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth," Jesus responded. And the father cried in tears: "Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief." And Jesus commanded the evil spirit to leave the boy and never return (Mark 9:14-30).
And, of course, there was Lazarus. John writes directly that Jesus dearly loved Lazarus and his two sisters, Mary and Martha. But when the sisters sent word into the wilderness for Jesus to come and heal their brother from a deadly disease, Jesus did not come. For several days he tarried in the wilderness, teaching the people and avoiding the church leaders who were now plotting his death.
Finally he told his disciples: "It is time to go. Lazarus is sleeping, and I must awaken him."
Jesus’ disciples tried to dissuade him because of their fear of the Jewish leaders. "If Lazarus is sleeping," they said, "he is fine."
So Jesus spoke more clearly: "Lazarus is dead."
With that, Jesus headed for Bethany, accompanied by his disciples, who vowed to die at his side. Before Jesus arrived, Martha came running out to him. "If only you had been here, Lazarus would not have died." Mary also came out, crying great tears of sorrow. "If only you had been here, Lord."
John writes that Jesus wept also. Such was his compassion for these dear friends. But when they had walked to the tomb and Jesus had ordered that it be opened, even the two sisters tried to stop him, saying: "Lazarus has been dead now four days. His body stinketh."
But then that same voice the disciples had heard turn water to wine, the same voice that stilled the tempests, the same voice that had cast out devils and commanded bodies to be healed of every kind of disease, that same voice then commanded what no man thought was possible. Jesus commanded that after four days of death Lazarus return to life. "Lazarus, come forth!"
No one spoke as every eye focused with fear and joy and anticipation on the mouth of the tomb. And he that was dead made his way out, bound head to foot like a mummy in gravesclothes.
Can any good thing come out of Nazareth? We should ask those who have been healed and transformed, literally brought back to life spiritually. The hard-working fishermen like Peter, struggling at the only trade they knew until this humble but kingly man from Nazareth called out from the seashore: "Come, and I will make you fishers of men."
In similar manner, the despised tax collector for the Romans was called to be a disciple. Matthew was hated by all ... until Jesus came by. And there were others, mostly of humble backgrounds, but a few noblemen, as well, who gave up everything to answer the call to discipleship.
Their lives were transformed as the disciples walked with Jesus during his three-year mission. But still they were weak. All fled and hid or cowardly denied the Christ when he was arrested. But after his death, they were filled with the Holy Spirit and with new commitment and conviction to spread the good news of Jesus Christ. They became great leaders and missionaries, converting many thousands to the church. And nearly all the apostles and many other disciples died courageously as martyrs, unwilling to ever again deny what they knew to be true.
They sealed their testimonies with their own blood. Peter was crucified in Rome, head downward. James, son of Zebedee, was beheaded. John was banished to the Isle of Patmos. Bartholomew was beaten, crucified, then beheaded. James, son of Alphaeus, was stoned and beaten to death. Matthew was slain with a halberd, the spear-like weapon tipped with a combination pike and battle axe. Andrew, Simon Zelotes, Thaddeus and Phillip were all crucified. Thomas was thrust through with a spear. Matthias was stoned, then beheaded. Paul, after many sufferings for the Gospel, was beheaded in Rome by Nero. Stephen was stoned to death. Mark was dragged through the streets of Alexandria and then burned. Luke was hanged. (Book of Martyrs by John Fox, Book I, pp. 27-32.)
Concerning transformed lives, our best witnesses should be you and me. Living disciples. But, as one church leader queried: "Have you spiritually been born of God? Have ye received his image in your countenances? Have ye experienced this mighty change in your hearts?"
I think we can add some questions to these: Have we changed our lives as a result of our inner changes? Do we love the Lord enough to keep his commandments. His last sermon in the upper room contained this simple charge: "If ye love me, keep my commandments" (John 14:14). And in the same sermon, a few moments later, he urged: "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you" (John 15:13,14).
Jesus was the epitome of what he asked his disciples to be. Unlike the hypocritcal Jewish leaders, Jesus never asked of others what he did not expect of himself. On the other hand, he expected of his disciples ultimately everything he expected of himself. He knew they wouldn’t do everything perfectly the first time, but he gave them the long-term goal in the Sermon on the Mount: "Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father in Heaven is perfect" (Matt. 5:48). Of his disciples, including a rich young man who turned down a call to discipleship, Jesus asked everything: "If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and follow me." The rich young ruler went away sorrowful, unable to make that total consecration (Matt.19: 16-22).
But, again, in his last sermon in the upper room, Jesus told those disciples willing to make that sacrifice of the power they would have in accomplishing his will. Referring to all of his miracles, he told his disciples: "Verily, verily, I say unto you, he that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do; because I go unto my Father. ... At that day ye shall ask in my name: and I say not unto you that I will pray unto the Father for you: for the Father himself loveth you, because ye have loved me" (John 14:12; 16:26,27).
Besides the inner commitment, the change of heart, and besides the willingness to do God’s will and receive of his power, do we receive the peace and joy that Jesus felt under even the most adverse circumstances?
To us at times Jesus seems full of contradictions. He said our burdens could be lightened, that our sorrow would be turned to joy, that he had come to give us life in full abundance. But almost in the same breath he then said we should be prepared to be rejected by our families, hated by many, and even slain by some who would think they were serving God in so doing. How do we make sense of all this?
The very night before his prophesied death, Jesus sat calmly around the table with his apostles and told them, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you. Not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid" (John 14:27).
But then he warned that his apostles would be "scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone: and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me" (John 16:32). And he warned that many would be killed by their enemies. Just before walking out into the night toward Gethsemane, Jesus again assured his disciples, however, "These things I have spoken unto you that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation. But be of good cheer; I have overcome the world!"
Many nominal Christians are willing and anxious to obtain the joy and peace and the "life abundant" Jesus promised, but they shy away from the struggle and the trials that were also part of the promise. Christianity for these is only a placebo, an emotional sugar pill.
On the other hand, some "Christians" take upon themselves the yoke of Christ, but they carry it as a heavy burden, a necessary obligation. They feel no joy, and their hearts are devoid of peace. In trying to avoid an eternal hell, they have engulfed themselves in an earthly hell. They do not understand that it is impossible to go through an eternity of work they do not enjoy. To become like Heavenly Father and to enjoy living with him and working with him, we must not only do what he does, we must learn to love what he loves, enjoy what he enjoys, value what he values. As Paul wrote to the Hebrews, we must have the commandments of God written in our hearts and in our minds.
We must not be fooled by a false euphoria that all is well if we are not helping to build the Kingdom of God, doing the work Jesus did when he was on Earth, taking up our cross, as he instructed. However, if we are burdened down with the Lord’s labor and feel no joy and no peace, something is wrong. We’re hiding some sin; we’re working only half-heartedly, wishing we could be doing something else; or we’ve forgotten the Lord’s sacrifice.
Perhaps we simply haven’t learned to really love our neighbors and our enemies -- all our spiritual brothers and sisters, however spiritually immature they may be. We haven’t learned to love the sick, the poor and the blind, speaking both spiritually and physically. Perhaps we just need to see beyond the human frailties and facades and to see the limitless potential in others and within ourselves, potential that can be released by "the touch of the Master’s hand."
Perhaps we haven't really learned to love the Lord.
May we let the Lord touch our lives and heal our wounds. May we put strife and envy and hate out of our hearts. May we truly love one another. May we be excited about the Lord’s work. May we follow the path set by the Savior and be truly his disciples in heart and deed.
May the Lord’s peace fill our minds and our souls. May his joy bubble forth as an unquenchable spring of refreshment no matter what painful trials may confront us. May we add our witness to that of the thousands and perhaps millions who can truly testify of the power and grace of Jesus Christ.
Anything good out of Nazareth?
This question we together answer--
The lowly beggar blind from birth;
Deplored by all, the tax collector;
Raised from the grave, dead Lazarus;
The invalid of 38 long years;
The sick and crippled raised from the dust;
And, now healed, the 10 lepars;
The nobleman’s son from Capernaum;
And across the years, beyond the sea,
The transformed lives of the fishermen;
And here and now, the spiritual blind--you and me.
Any man good out of Nazareth?
This was not man that healed our hurts.
So, to this question we do witness
He is our God who came to Earth!
--Ken Harvey
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