Monday, 12 February 2007

sermon on john 14:1-3

We have lived through a week of cascading emotions. There were many who were delighted for London when they were awarded the 2012 Olympics; there was scarcely anyone not shocked and deeply saddened by the terrible evil of the attack on London the next day. This has been a week, then, when hearts have been very deeply troubled – troubled by the loss of loved ones, troubled by the appalling sights of suffering on the streets of a vibrant city.

Troubled hearts need comfort. Lives that have been engulfed by the storms of sorrow need healing and hope. The passage we come to this morning in our series on these chapters offers just that hope.

Jesus has just told his disciples some very disturbing news. He is going away from them and they cannot follow him, at least not for now. He has repeatedly spoken to them of the fact he will be taken by the Jewish leaders and killed; and that time is at hand.

However dark the scene, Jesus also knows this is the time when he will glorify the Father and the Father will glorify him. Yet the disciples find all this so hard to grasp and, as a consequence, their hearts are troubled. We can see why that would be so – their beloved friend and master is going away from them and, however much warning they may have had, it will be a shocking event when it happens.

The phrase that is used in 14:1 is also used in 12:27 to describe Jesus’ response to the coming hour; the same term is also used in 11:33 and 13:21 to describe Jesus’ emotions at the death of Lazarus and at the betrayal of Judas.

Those uses help us to see what is going on here. The disciples are not just sad to be losing a good friend; their deep grief is much more closely aligned with the spiritual struggle that Jesus is involved in – the struggle that claimed Lazarus and that swallowed Judas; the struggle between light and darkness, life and death.

And all the hopes of the disciples had been pinned on Jesus – surely he would be the one to deliver Israel from evil, to rescue and restore.

God had promised just such a deliverer and he was eminently suited to the task. Yet he speaks of going on without them. No wonder their hearts are troubled – they are suddenly caught in the most violent storm just when they had expected to reach harbour.

Jesus knows their hearts, just as he knows ours. How does he handle the rawness of their sorrows?

1. Trust in God
He begins by starting at the point where his disciples are. They are grieved and troubled – and Jesus addresses them as such. But his exhortation in 14:1 is designed to call them forward from where they are. It is good to sympathise with others and there are times we might feel we can do no other. But where it is possible, we need to offer the hope of moving forward and Jesus does that here: he urges his disciples, “Do not to let your hearts be troubled”.

Clearly there is, in what Jesus says, a responsibility that lies with the disciples – they must be willing to hear what he says and respond to it. We need to notice that but we also need to understand it won’t always be the case – a person may be so much in shock it is impossible for them to hear, let alone respond to, exhortations that are wise and helpful. There is a time and a place for addressing the responsibilities of those we are seeking to help.

Jesus of course knows the hearts of his disciples and so he addresses them as he does here. But it would be wrong to take the first half of this verse and conclude that he was simply telling them not to allow themselves to be so troubled, to in effect ‘pull their socks up’. His words must be taken as a whole.

And taking them as a whole what Jesus says is that they are to combat and respond to their troubled hearts by trusting in God. The way back from a broken heart, from a heart deeply troubled, is not to find some inner strength you never knew you had but, rather, to lean all your weight on the God who made you. “Trust in God.”

We ought to note at this point that there are many ways of translating v.1 – ‘trust’ might be a command or it might be descriptive.

Of the various combinations, the most likely in the context is that Jesus is urging his fearful and troubled disciples to trust, to believe in God, to take what they know of this God and live it out.

2. Trust also in me
But that really is only part of the picture and we need to see the whole, because only then will we be in a position to truly deal with our fears and alarms.

Jesus combines the exhortation to trust in God with a twin call: “Trust also in me”. He has no hesitation in calling the disciples to a like faith in him as they are to have in the Father. And the reason he doesn’t hesitate is clear: if we have seen him, we have seen the Father. The Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world and all who put their trust in the Son honour the Father and discover the blessed reality of rescue from sin and death.

These words encourage us to hold the highest view of the person and work of Jesus. The reality to which they point is the only way sin can be overcome and troubled hearts truly set at ease and at rest.

The answer to the evil of the world, the evil that is in us and that is destroying society and marring creation, lies only in Jesus. It does not lie in a vague belief in a deity who is nameless and faceless. Genuine hope, hope that can settle the most troubled heart, lies in the God who is revealed to us in Jesus his Son.

Jesus is not wasting his words here. They must believe in God and they must believe in him as the one who reveals the Father and who effects the saving plans of the Father. Nothing less will do to lighten the darkness and calm the troubled hearts that had been thrown into turmoil by the ravages of sin and evil.

And our troubles, as we see our own disordered hearts or as we see the world in its sinister and sorrowful mess, can only be quieted through faith – faith in God and faith in Jesus who reveals the Father and accomplishes his purposes of grace. And if we need to hear that call afresh today, how much does our world need to hear it at this time!

3. Plenty of room
Jesus immediately bolsters what he is saying by speaking of his going away and what it will accomplish for his disciples. His words in vv.2,3 are some of the most well-known in John’s gospel and have been read at countless funerals and so on. If there are any words we know the meaning of, surely it is these.

I think that’s true, but I don’t think it’s necessarily as true as it could be. I don’t want to upset any apple carts but I think there is more going on here than meets the traditional eye. We need to get slightly technical to see that but I hope you’ll stick with me on this one.

Jesus speaks here of going away and coming back, references that we immediately assume to refer to his going to heaven and his second coming. But elsewhere in this chapter, he speaks of coming back and means after his resurrection (vv.18,19) or coming by his Spirit (v.23). So what does he mean here in vv.2,3?

We need to look at the phrase, “My Father’s house”. We’re used to understanding it as speaking of heaven but ‘house’ has a broader meaning. It is also used in 8:35 where it is translated as “family” or ‘household’. That is a good translation in the context. Could it possibly be that 14:2 is also referring not so much to the place where God lives but to the family he is remaking?

This is where we need to bring in the second phrase, the “many rooms” Jesus speaks of. The phrase simply means ‘dwelling places’, a place to rest and be refreshed; but, more importantly, it is a place to stay for ever. It has the idea of permanence with it. Now, go back to 8:35 and you’ll see the same word-group being used there – the slave doesn’t have a permanent place but the son does.

Putting those two points together, I think the link with 8:35 is a very strong one and helps us to see what is going on here. Jesus is going away to prepare a place for his disciples in the Father’s household – and it will be a permanent place. He is going away to make them sons of the living God. His death on the cross will achieve that.

But I think it is also right to see Jesus as looking forward here to his return in glory – when he speaks of coming back and taking them to be with him, it is difficult not to see that as referring in some way to his second coming.

And it is when Jesus returns in glory, that our adoption into God’s family will be complete – what Paul refers to in Rom 8:23 when he speaks of “our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies”.

So I’m not denying the traditional interpretation that Jesus is speaking of heaven but I am saying that there is another aspect to his words that is latent here and we need both of them if we’re we derive the comfort he intends to give us.

Through the going away of Jesus, into the shame and pain of the cross, we have been reconciled to God and have been made his children. In this world that is ravaged by sin, in the disordered and tension-filled lives we live in this world, we need the comfort of knowing that we are genuinely in the family of God, that Jesus has indeed conquered sin and evil, whatever might seem to be the case.

But we are not yet in possession of the fullness of what Jesus has achieved for us; one day he will return to take us to be with him where he is. As John later writes in his first letter, “Now we are the children of God and what we will be has not yet been made known”. But we know it is coming, in all its glory and wonder.

Sin will not have the last word; Jesus will. Already he has rescued us from its grip and given us a permanent place in the family of God; and one day he will return for us. Here is the message that this world needs to hear – not that sin will one day be defeated but that it has been and now is the time to come securely into the family of God.

There is a secure dwelling place for all in the household of God if they will put their trust in God and trust in Jesus. And if our trust is in him, we need to address our troubled hearts and apply the comfort of these exquisite verses – not only for our sakes but so that our mission to the world would not be hindered.

sermon on john 13:31-38

1. The Glory of God in the Cross of Jesus
The closing phrase of v.30 is deeply suggestive – “And it was night”. This is now the hour of darkness, not simply literally but symbolically too. Satan has entered the heart of Judas and Judas has gone out to betray Jesus. The gathering opposition to Jesus is going to reach its cynical climax in a very short time.

All of which makes Jesus’ words in vv.31,32 quite unexpected. It is a deeply dark moment and yet Jesus says that now, at this very time and in the unfolding events, the bright light of God’s glory is shining and will shine. He will be glorified by the Father and the Father will be glorified in him and this will all take place “at once”.

Does that mean that, somehow, the dark designs of Judas and the enemies of Jesus will be thwarted? Will Jesus escape their clutches as he did on other occasions?

No; God is not going to be glorified through his Son fleeing the cross but facing and going through its dreadful agony. Jesus calls himself here “the Son of Man” and that title is indeed a title of glory in the OT (see Dan 7:13). In the other gospels, the term is often used in a context of suffering; in John, the glory and the suffering are brought together in the most unexpected way: the Son of Man will be glorified in and through his suffering. And God the Father will be glorified in him. As one writer has said, “the greatest moment of displayed glory was in the shame of the cross”.

The cross unveils before our eyes the majesty and the mystery of God: here is love, vast as the ocean; here is justice, firm and true; here is where God and humanity are reconciled through the agony of the Son of Man.

William Gadsby expressed it perfectly in these lines (CH110 vv.2-4)

Here is the Saviour we worship and adore – a crucified Messiah, the Son of Man who suffered for our sakes. The heart of God is revealed in the broken body of his Son – and so this is where the focus of the church’s proclamation must ever be.

We must consciously take our stand with Paul when he affirmed to the Corinthians the centrality of the cross in Christian life and witness – “we preach Christ crucified…Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God”. The world is still a terribly dark place but there is a light that shines in the darkness and it is at its brightest at the cross where sin was judged and evil conquered. So we too must “preach Christ crucified”, unflinchingly and passionately.

But we must also see that, if it is true that God is glorified in his Son at the cross, so he will be glorified in the same way as we not only declare the cross but dwell under the cross. It is not only to form the heart of our message and mission but the heart of our mindset – that we will take up our cross and follow Jesus; we will deny ourselves and follow him. God is glorified, Jesus is glorified, in our doing so. Could we need any other incentive to respond to the call of Jesus?

2. Loving like Jesus to make him known

The fact that Jesus is so soon to be glorified, through his cross and in his exaltation, means that he will be with his disciples “only a little longer” (v.33). They will look for him but they won’t be able to follow him, since that would mean cross and exaltation.

Jesus is going into a unique situation without the disciples but he makes it clear in vv.34,35 that they have a vital part to play in implementing his achievements. And so he says to them, “A new command I give you: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”

The community that Jesus has formed around himself is not to just dissolve or fracture when he has gone but is to continue to manifest the same love for one another that Jesus has for them, a love that expresses itself in the costliest way, that loves to the finish.

But why does Jesus call this “a new command”? Certainly the OT teaches love for God and love for our neighbour, so it cannot be that this command has never been given before. Perhaps the best explanation is that this command is new in its definition – “this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins” (1 John 4:10). And it is new in that Jesus’ death ushers is the age of the new covenant.

What a tough call this is – to love each other as Jesus has loved us! We might feel if we could pick and choose who we’re to love in the manner of Jesus that we might stand more of a chance, but that’s not an option – Jesus chose the 12 and Jesus chooses our brothers and sisters. His command is all-inclusive and profoundly challenging.

Before we wilt under its heat, we ought to refer back to a point we made when we looked at the footwashing incident. The call to love is made on the basis of not only the example of Jesus but also our experience of his love. It is as we receive the love of Jesus, shed abroad in our hearts by his Spirit, that we are enabled to love each other as he has loved us – sacrificially and unconditionally.

And if we do that, Jesus says its impact will be seen and felt by others: “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” We live in a world that is desperately short of genuine love – plenty of lust, plenty of self-serving but precious little truly self-giving love. And the world desperately needs to see it and so to be drawn to the Lord in whom it is found.

It is vital that the church preaches about Jesus and his cross, in all its glory and with all faithfulness. But it is equally vital that the church lives out the reality of the love of Jesus, and does so visibly, in order to show the world we are indeed followers of the Jesus we preach.

Although some might find one or other of these aspects easier, there really is no tension between the two. Preaching Jesus and his cross and loving each other from the heart, visibly and truly, aren’t options, nor are they in competition such that some churches preach and some churches love. May that never be!

3. The Weakness In Us All
Faced with the call of Jesus to a new level of community, Peter focuses instead on the obviously disconcerting statement by Jesus that he is leaving them and they cannot follow him. Instead of majoring on what was clearest, he focussed on the more opaque statement; we need to watch out that we don’t follow suit.

His response is to question where his Lord is going and when Jesus affirms again that, at least for now, they cannot follow, Peter protests very firmly, “Why can’t I follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.” (v.37) Coming so soon after the footwashing, it’s clear Peter has yet to learn the lesson that Jesus is the Lord.

Here we see a combination of impatience and bravado from Peter, a dual expression of weakness – for we are never weaker than when we are most certain of our own strength and when we’re trying to dictate to the Lord how and when he should act.

This is typical of Peter, perhaps, but he is not alone in his weakness. Many of us could also testify that we are all too ready to trust in our own wisdom and strength instead of leaning heavily on the Lord. And what is true of us personally also applies corporately.

There were times when the readiness of Peter to face hostility would prove to be an asset but here is an example of the reverse. The truth is that Peter simply has no idea of the nature of the struggle he is involved in, nor of the forces that are arrayed against him. And that makes him very vulnerable indeed.

We do not wrestle against flesh and blood – but it seems Peter is only thinking on that level. And he has failed to grasp yet the utterly unique ministry of Jesus – “Will you really lay down your life for me?”

The sad truth is expressed by Jesus: Peter for all his bravado will prove to be unfaithful and cowardly when push comes to shove. This is a desperately intense spiritual battle and his protests will prove to be empty boasts and foolishly naïve.

If that is true of peter, it is no less true of us. How will we stand when the heat is on? Well, not by staying out of the kitchen (that’s not our commission) but by putting our confidence not in our own strength, wisdom or ingenuity but in the Lord of glory, the Lord who has triumphed over all his foes in the glory of his cross.

May his cross ever be our boast and may we ever take refuge under its shadow. Amen.

sermon on john 13:18-30

I want to begin by telling you of my worst moments as a Christian. They are the times when I have seen my heart in all its sinfulness and come to the conclusion that, although I have been blessed by God in so many ways, I haven’t really honoured God, that my sin has been a betrayal of his grace and that I am, therefore, another Judas, utterly without hope.

Can you relate to that? If you can, you’ll know it’s the most distressing feeling and so destructive of ongoing faith and trust. As we approach this passage, you might do so with real fear, fear that the Lord is going to ask you to leave with Judas, that you also are a child of perdition. I hope to help us face and overcome those nightmares as we look at this passage together.

1. The true condition of Judas
The first thing we need to do is to establish as clearly as possible from the text what the true condition of Judas is. It is only against that background that we will be able to assess ourselves.

In v.18 Jesus quotes from Ps. 41:9 and says two striking things about Judas: he has shared Jesus’ bread and he has lifted his heel against him. The first speaks of being bound together in covenant loyalty while the second is “a revelation of contempt, treachery, even animosity”.

How appalling this is – to pretend to be in closest fellowship with the Lord of glory while all the while turning from him. And Jesus makes it plain (v.20) that in rejecting him, for whatever reason he does so, Judas is rejecting the God who has sent Jesus and who is revealed in and through him.

But of course the picture is bigger than just one man. This passage makes it plain that Judas’ defection was at the behest of Satan. That doesn’t remove his responsibility but it does help us to grasp the desperate nature of these events. And it gives particular power to that closing phrase, “And it was night” (v.30).

We aren’t told how Judas came to this point but we are shown his true condition and the nature of what is happening here. This is utter betrayal – it isn’t about someone backsliding or struggling with a particular sin. This is someone who has looked Jesus in the face, seen something of his agenda of grace and has deliberately closed his heart to that grace and then acted to thwart the purposes of God.

When the nightmares wash over you in waves of fear, you need to recall what this passage is showing. Judas has no desire – none at all – to know and honour Jesus. Yes, there is remorse later (almost as though, having used him, Satan dumps him) but his heart here is not mixed, it is settled in the firmest opposition to Jesus.

This is not about a believer struggling to live a holy life and even being overcome by sin for a time; this is utter repudiation of Jesus.

2. The sovereignty of Jesus

In the face of such a desperate reality, it is crucial that we grasp the next point: the text makes it absolutely plain that even where evil is reaching to its full height, Jesus remains sovereign.

In the first place, the defection of Judas is already known to Jesus. In fact, he has known about it all along; it isn’t only recently that he has somehow worked it out – check out 6:70. It had been long foretold in scripture (v.18 quoting Ps. 41:9) and Jesus was well aware of its fulfilment in Judas.

But it isn’t just that Jesus knew all along what Judas would do – the clear implication of v.18 in the light of 6:70 is that Jesus’ choice of Judas to be a disciple was always meant to serve the purposes of God.

Now, we need to be clear what that means. It isn’t removing from Judas his personal responsibility, nor is it suggesting that he was just the fall-guy who God willingly exposed to the wiles of Satan. Judas was massively privileged; not only did he hear and witness amazing things but he has just had his feet washed by God incarnate. It was his deliberate choice to reject the offers of God’s grace – but Jesus is showing here that even that rejection was subject to his sovereign overruling and serves his purposes.

We see that point recurring in the scriptures – Pharaoh is a wicked man who is responsible for his sin yet the Lord chooses to use him to display something of his power as he delivers Israel from Egypt. Then there is Cyrus, the pagan king of Persia, who issues the decree for the Jews to return to Judah which brings the exile to an end, at just the time the Lord had said it would happen.

But it is here and in the events this scene leads to that we see the sovereignty of God over evil played out to the full: at the cross, God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself. Evil is not ultimate; God is, and his plans to redeem a lost world will not be thwarted by evil and will even use evil to further the loving plans of his heart. That doesn’t in any shape tar him with the same brush; what it does is help us grasp his complete dominance over all things, for the good of all in Christ and for his glory.

Yet that does not mean that Jesus can ever be indifferent to evil. However much he is in control here, the unveiling of the hate-filled face of evil fills Jesus with revulsion and anguish. Having spoken about what will shortly happen, Jesus is “troubled in spirit” (v.21). This is just what we see when he comes to the tomb of Lazarus, as he sees the destructive effects of sin.

The sovereignty of God even over evil does not mean he is complicit with it, nor does it mean he is indifferent to it. He is appalled by it and deeply troubled.

3. The impact on the disciples

There are clearly lessons we must learn from this as we seek to apply the text to ourselves but I want to handle that by way of a third point. We have seen the true nature of Judas’ betrayal of Jesus and the fact that Jesus remains sovereign here, even whilst deeply troubled. But there is a need for us to see how all this impacts on the disciples.

The first point to make here is that Jesus affirms again that he is sending his disciples out – see v.20 and cf. 17:18; 20:21. Judas goes out from them into the night and it is into a world situation where darkness is palpable that Jesus deliberately sends his disciples.

Now, the disciples at this point are still ignorant about Judas and his intentions. It seems when he left that, apart from John, they still didn’t know what was going on. They had been around Judas for a long time and yet seemingly had no inkling as to his antipathy toward Jesus. Their ignorance stands in stark contrast in this passage to the knowledge of Jesus.

And Jesus is sending them into the world, where evil is real and powerful. How are they going to stand? How are we going to stand? Here is where we need to apply and truly take heart from what we have seen about Jesus.

He is in control, even when events might seem to suggest otherwise. Who would have thought when Jesus was betrayed, arrested, flogged and then crucified that God was still on the throne? And yet he was! We must not lose heart because all seems so dark and so discouraging. Jesus is not just our Lord; he is Lord of Lords; all power and authority is his and evil cannot stand against him or thwart his plans to save.

Jesus sends us into the world, into the possibility of betrayal and opposition. How good to know, in the midst of that chaos, that even those events reaffirm the reality that he is the great I AM! And Jesus’ point in v.19 is just that: the fact he knows in advance is further proof who we’re observing here – the Lord, the I AM.

So we must take heart – but we must do more than that. Let me quote Bruce Milne on a very important point: “The confession ‘Jesus is lord’ must not lead to a triumphalistic detachment from the world but rather to an appalled dismay that his lordship is contested, and a commitment to mission to the world in the name of its Lord.” He then adds, “The ‘hour’ which is now striking for the climax of the mission of Jesus is also the ‘hour’ for the launching of the mission of the church.”

Yes, the days are evil and the world is a very dark place. But Jesus is Lord and so we must be his church in mission in every context – home, work, wider society and wherever he sends us. Evil will not triumph – Jesus has done so. We must not lose our nerve, nor our confidence in the Saviour.

sermon on john 13:12-17

This remarkable scene in which Jesus has washed his disciples’ feet is rich in symbolism. Jesus has explained that it symbolises both the decisive and ongoing cleansing from sin that he alone can and does give through his death on the cross. But there is also a third meaning implicit here, which Jesus now deals with openly.

1. Jesus our example

After re-taking his seat, Jesus asks a very pertinent question of his disciples: “Do you understand what I have done for you?” (v.12). It isn’t just directed at Peter, who had plainly failed to grasp what was being done, but is a question for the whole group. Do they – do we – understand what this scene is all about?

Of course, we can answer that this scene is all about Jesus’ unique ministry through his death which means we can know true cleansing from sin. We’d be correct in doing that – Jesus himself said so! But Jesus doesn’t leave it there and we need to follow his teaching here.

In these verses, Jesus opens up for his disciples the exemplary nature of what he has done – he has set them an example of how they should treat each other. As followers of Jesus, their commission is to learn from and inhabit the example he has set for them.

Of course, the cross is unrepeatable and Jesus is not saying they ought to lay down their lives for each others’ sins. But to say his death is unique doesn’t mean it can’t also serve as an example.

Maybe sometimes we play down this aspect of the scriptures because we’re concerned not to give the impression that Jesus is only an example for us. He is so much more and we are right to insist on that. But we must not allow that legitimate concern to mask the very heavy emphasis in the NT on Jesus as our example.

And we cannot fail to see that Jesus makes that point here in the strongest terms: “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.” (vv.13,14)

Is he our teacher? Then we should learn the lesson he teaches. Is he our Lord? Then we should follow the instruction he gives us.

Before we move on to consider what this means in detail, we must see the basis on which Jesus grounds the call to follow his example. It is found in the words, “as I have done for you” (v.15). Here we find, says one writer, “the ground on which this discipleship rests and the source from which it gains its strength.”

The lesson Jesus is teaching makes great demands of us. We will only be able to rise to the challenge through personal experience of the grace Jesus has lavished on us in his own service for our sakes.

2. Living the Lesson
So what, in more detail, is the lesson Jesus wants us to embrace and the example he wants us to emulate? Quite simply, that we should wash each other’s feet.

Does he mean that literally? Well, if we were in that culture it might very well be a legitimate application of what Jesus is saying but the lesson goes far deeper than one specific example. We are being urged here, as disciples of Jesus, to see ourselves, essentially, as servants of God and servants of one another.

We might naturally react against that – yes, I’ll serve God and do so gladly but to think of myself as a servant of others? That doesn’t come easy. But Jesus is emphatic: “no servant is greater than his master” (v.16). If that is how Jesus lived, our calling can be no less than one of genuine and sacrificial servanthood.

But what does it mean ‘on the ground’? Washing the feet of others was a lowly, menial and unpleasant job that wasn’t especially valued. There are ways in which we can serve one another that we don’t find particularly easy or pleasant – but that’s no reason not to do them and to do them cheerfully and well.

This will include the use of our time in listening to others, seeking to help them, to pray for them, to bear with them in all their peculiar ways. (Don’t you find it’s always others who have the peculiar ways and not you? I know I do!)

We may be very happy to do certain works of service because they appeal to us; they aren’t a chore. There may be something exciting about them; they may even get our name in lights. But what Jesus has just done is something else: he has done work that isn’t pleasant and that isn’t highly valued. And he calls us to do the same.

Others may not thank us for it; they ought to, but whether they do or they don’t is to make no difference: our call is to serve. It might go unnoticed but maybe it’s better for us that way.

All of that is challenging enough on its own but there is something else here to work through: Judas is still in the room. Jesus washed the feet of the one he knew would so very soon betray him. Our call to serve includes those who are ungrateful and unbelieving, those who would betray Jesus, whose hypocrisy is open and clear.

If it can be hard to serve those we love as brothers and sisters, this is harder still. But it’s what we’re called to – not that we ignore the hypocrisy and fail to speak against it; Jesus didn’t neglect to deal with Judas – but that we deal with such people in grace and with loving humility.

You see just this kind of thing in the Sermon on the Mount where Jesus tells us to go the extra mile and to offer more than is asked of us (Mt. 5:38-42). Not that we’re naïve but, rather, we deliberately take the form of a servant, just like our Teacher and Lord.

Think of how that might apply at work or at school or maybe in your family – and don’t be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good. It may indeed look a forlorn hope but Jesus did just that even when he knew Judas was going out, come what may. Our call is to follow Jesus into service that costs and service that counts.

3. Will you do it?

Well, that’s what Jesus teaches us in this passage. But there’s a sting in the tail. We can nod our agreement and say our ‘amen’ to his teaching but such gestures may well be empty. We can easily agree with what God says and then go our own way –and Jesus knows it. And so he says, “Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.” (v.17)

The blessing of being a Christian does not lie in the knowing but in the doing. I can know that there is forgiveness for all who look to Jesus but unless and until I personally do that, I remain unforgiven.

There is great blessing in becoming like our Lord in humble and self-giving service – the blessing of close fellowship with God and of knowing his love working powerfully in our hearts. But only those who actually take up and live out that vocation experience its blessing, says Jesus.

This is just the point James makes in his letter (see 1:25). Does reading a book on holiness make a person holy? I once made the mistake of thinking it did but I was wrong.

Simply knowing the truth is not enough; merely hearing the call to serve is not sufficient. We need to do something about it. It’s one thing to call ourselves ‘evangelical’; it’s another to live it out.

Has this passage challenged you? Then why not go home and make a list of how you might serve in the coming days, of who you might serve. Whatever you do, do something.

Maybe you know there are things you’ve been avoiding doing because they’re neither easy nor pleasant – why not add those to the list and then get on and do them? I’m not trying to overload people whose lives are already busy, nor add unnecessary guilt to our hearts – but I know how easy I find it to shelve things that are hard or unpleasant; and maybe you do too.

You won’t lose out; in fact, far from it – Jesus says “you will be blessed if you do them.” And the blessing will be for all to share and for unbelievers to be attracted to. How good and pleasant it is when brothers and sisters live together – and serve together – in unity! For there the Lord bestows his blessing, even life for evermore.

God grant it to be so for all his people. Amen!

sermon on john 13:2-11

Having loved his own who were in the world, Jesus loved them to the finish. So John begins this major section of his gospel where Jesus instructs and comforts his disciples. The love of Jesus is evident throughout these chapters, culminating in the cross. In fact, these chapters are full of talk of love – it is a significant theme in Jesus’ dealings with his disciples.

1. Facing the darkness
In v.2, John tells us that the shocking reality of the defection of Judas is now complete - Satan has prompted him to betray Jesus. Quite how Judas got to this pitch we aren't told - clearly he was disappointed with the agenda of Jesus, perhaps longing for a more violent revolution. But, however it has happened, the reality is that this is the hour of darkness; Satan is exerting himself and the most dreadful evil will be worked out.

But what we must notice is that, even as John tells us this about Judas, he goes on to say that "Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power". Evil is a terrible reality; it is sheer folly to minimise or dismiss it. But Jesus knows that the power of God - the power that he has been given - is ultimate.

The cosmic battle between God and evil is not even; evil is real and terrible but its power is limited; the power of God, which is given to Jesus as Messiah, is unlimited. Jesus knows that and so he isn’t thrown into a blind panic by what is now unfolding before his eyes. Never does he minimise or trivialise the reality of evil; nowhere does he ever allow that evil is greater than God. “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.” (1:5)

And that is how we are to see the cosmic battle in which we’re also engaged. It is the case in our own lives, that where sin abounds, grace super-abounds. No temptation is too severe for Jesus to help us with it. It is true with respect to the church and it is true with respect to the world. The days are dark and difficult; to deny that would be more than simply burying our heads in the sand, it would be wilful denial of the truth. But however dark and troubled the days are, there is no cause for panic and anxiety because the Father has indeed put all things under the power of Jesus.

2. Overcoming evil with good
Now, John tells us that in this hour of darkness, when Satan had entered Judas’ heart, Jesus knew all power was his and, in the light of that, he takes action. But his action is not to destroy Judas with a look and unleash the power of ten thousand angels against the forces of evil. No, Jesus does something far more radical and far more powerful. Very deliberately, “he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet.”

Can you feel the stunned silence in which a pin could be heard to drop? Here is the eternal Word, the one through whom all things were made, the one who was with God and was God, the light that gives light to all people, the living embodiment of the glory of God, radiating grace and truth – and he deliberately takes the role and position of the most menial servant, of the lowliest slave.

The radical nature of what Jesus did is underscored by the fact that, for some Jews, this was a task reserved for Gentiles and children – never someone of equal worth or value. And it was unthinkable for a respected and revered teacher to do so. But Jesus did it.

As we know, Paul expressed this reality in truly memorable words: the one who was “in very nature God…made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant.” In all probability, the disciples would never have thought to wash each others’ feet but here is their master doing that for them! As much as the blazing bush, this scene demanded that the disciples take off their shoes, not only to be washed but in holy awe.

But it doesn’t stop there. The humility with which Jesus clothed himself in the incarnation and in his life of service was completed, even eclipsed, by the shattering moment when his obedience extended to the death of the cross. That is the fuller reality to which this foot-washing is pointing. It is a staggering, humbling reality before which we should be shattered and silent.

This is how Jesus responds to, and engages, the malignant power of evil – he doesn’t fight fire with fire, he doesn’t return evil for evil, but he overcomes evil with good, with the power of love.

Evil can not be defeated by legislation, nor political or military power. God overcomes unfettered evil through the loving and sacrificial service which reached its summit on the hill called Calvary. There are important implications there for our lives as believers and churches, as Paul notes in Rom. 13 and Jesus in Mt. 5:38ff.

3. Cleansing: full and ongoing
If we feel in any way stunned into silence by this amazing act of servant love, imagine what the reaction must have been in the room. Maybe it was embarrassed silence on the part of the most but, for one disciple, something had to be said. Peter can’t let this moment simply happen; as Jesus comes to wash his feet, he protests and then misunderstands. The way Jesus deals with him allows us to see the true significance of the event that is taking place.

i) Peter is indignant: “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus tries to help him by explaining that what now seems so confusing will become plain later. Peter strongly rejects that: “No; you shall never wash my feet”. But there is a deeper significance to this scene than he is aware of and so Jesus says to him, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”

Now, in handling this point, we need to realise that Jesus is, of course, speaking figuratively: it isn’t the act of foot-washing itself that makes a person clean and united to Jesus; after all, Judas is present and also has his feet washed by Jesus. The foot-washing prefigures the cross and it is that to which Jesus refers.

It is by his cross that Jesus decisively deals with sin and makes it possible for people besmirched by sin to be made clean and right before God. Nothing less than the death of the Son of God in our place could ever have secured our true, spiritual cleansing. And it is only by that cleansing that we can have a part with Jesus. That phrase speaks of inheritance and in some Jewish thought was related to sharing in the blessings God would unveil in the last days.

When Jesus tells Peter that without being washed, he can have no part with him, he is telling him that only through spiritual cleansing by the death of Jesus can he, Peter, share in the reality of life with God in all its fullness.

All that the Father promised in his covenant with Abraham (“I will be their God and they will be my people”) can only be realised by being united to Jesus in his death through faith and, so, knowing that deep and true cleansing from sin we so much need.

For any and all of us this morning, this is where we need to go for peace with God. It is not obtained in any other way but through being joined to Jesus and having his death applied in power to us.

ii) But Peter doesn’t quite get it yet. His response is to ask Jesus to wash the whole of him! Here Jesus teaches another vital lesson: “A person who has had a bath needs only to wash his feet; his whole body is clean.” (v.10)

Let me say two things about that. Firstly, Jesus is saying that the cleansing we receive when we come to faith in him is full and decisive: “And you are clean” he adds. When we come to faith in Jesus and are justified by the grace of God, we are put right with God because of Jesus and that will never change. We are clean.

Yes, we change and our love ebbs and flows and our peace is variable; Jesus will deal with that here. But however much we change, whatever our faults and failures, whatever sins we are overcome by, the reality still stands: “And you are clean”.

But because we still live in this fallen world and still await the redemption of our bodies and the fullness of what Jesus achieved, we fail our Lord and come short of his glory. In Jesus’ terms, we get our feet dirty. And we know through bitter personal experience that such things disrupt our relationship with God, threatening to rob us of our peace and diminish our service and witness. What are we to do?

The person who has had a bath, says Jesus, only needs to have his feet washed. When, as Christians, we sin, we aren’t back at the very beginning, in need of being saved all over the again. The decisive act of cleansing has taken place and the verdict of God will not be reversed. But we do need to be restored, we do need to know again our sins are forgiven for the sake of Jesus. And, so, Jesus washes our feet, too, in saving and restoring love.

sermon on john 13:1

We're going to begin to look together at what is often referred to as the Upper Room Discourse in John. In ch.2-12, John has recorded many discussions Jesus has with individuals and crowds but, unlike say Mark, he has included to date very little of Jesus’ direct teaching to his disciples. In ch.13-17 that focus is going to change; from here on, it is the disciples who receive Jesus’ special attention.

These chapters are both precious and profound; there is much here to warm the heart and to inform the mind. What was for the disciples a special and significant time has become just that kind of teaching for us. We’re beginning today with 13:1 which functions very much as a scene-setter for what follows.

1. Jesus, the true Passover

John begins what is effectively a new section with a somewhat vague statement of time: “It was just before the Passover Feast”. The vagueness of what John has written and some of the details that follow have led to different conclusions as to whether the meal Jesus clearly shares here with his disciples is in fact the Passover or whether this takes place earlier in the week.

It’s no doubt for good reason that John writes as he does and the really important issue is not when this all took place but what John is intending to convey here. I think the answer to that lies not only in what he says here but in what he has said elsewhere in his gospel. John is writing so that people might believe that Jesus is the Messiah. He seems by and large to be writing for non-Jews, seen in his explanation and translation of various aspects of Jewish life.

In that context, John has been keen to show that Jesus, as a Jew, has come to be the Saviour of the world. The Messiah had to be a Jew since God had promised to sort out the darkness and distress of this fallen world through the family of Abraham.

With that in mind, it’s interesting to see John referring often to the feasts of the Jews, feasts whose meanings were now coming true in Jesus. Just as the miracles of Jesus functioned as signs, so too did the whole Jewish system of rites and ordinances.

And nowhere is that so clear and powerful as the Passover. Jesus has come as the true Passover sacrifice – the lamb who takes away the sin of the world. Someone has suggested that John is vague about the Passover for this reason: “Jesus does not eat the Passover, he is the Passover”; whether that is correct in detail, the general point is helpful.

Jesus is the one who will function as the fulfilment of all that God had promised and prefigured in the OT. He will lead the true Israel (ch.15) out of the ultimate bondage (ch.8). This idea will recur again and again in this talk with the disciples – even that famous phrase, “the way, the truth, the life” has a whole OT theology within it.

Now, this is an important point for us as believers today. It is vital that we know how to put our Bibles together, not for intellectual reasons but to understand God’s ways with the world and the true significance of Jesus. It is in him – and in him alone – that the age-old plan of God to rescue the world comes to pass.

God’s integrity and righteousness was on the line whilst ever sin and evil dominated in this world and whilst ever the covenant promises made to Abraham went unfulfilled. In Jesus, God is seen to be righteous and faithful, a God who keeps his word, worthy of our trust and the trust of every single human being.

2. The hour has come

John’s next step is to tell us that “Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father”. All through this gospel, Jesus’ hour has been highlighted and anticipated and, with the arrival of the Greeks in 12:20, Jesus knows it has come.

Everything is now moving inexorably to its all-along intended climax. This will be the time when Jesus will glorify his Father through his death and his Father will glorify him. It will be the time when the world is brought to judgement and the prince of this world driven out; it will herald the time for Jesus to be lifted up so that all may be drawn to him (12:27-32).

Could any hour hold more significance, for the world and humanity?

The thought of Jesus returning to his Father carries with it the suggestion that his task has been completed and that will certainly be the case. But in this time with the disciples Jesus will explain that this is really only the end of the beginning – as he was sent, so he will send them. And not only will he send them into the world but he will, when he has ascended, send his Spirit into them.

All this needs to be unpacked; the teaching about the Spirit is some of the richest in the whole gospel. For now, we need simply to recognise that fact and humble ourselves in readiness to address it, or, better, to be addressed with it. Jesus was returning to the Father – not simply going home after an interesting time away but with the whole future of the world opened up and ready for the climactic act of his ministry: to send his Spirit.

3. Loved to the end
As we turn our attention to the last part of this verse, we need to notice the connection with what John has just said. Jesus is aware of the hour and so, because of that, “Having loved his own who were in the world, he now loved them to the end”.

The NIV has here “the full extent of his love” which is fair enough but it rather masks the connection with the cry of Jesus in 19:30, “It is finished” (it’s for that reason I’ve quoted the TNIV). Yes, we will see the full extent of Jesus love but the term ‘end’ also carries with it a sense of purpose and completion.

Notice that this love is described in certain ways. Jesus “loved his own who were in the world”. In John 3:16 we’re famously told that God so loved the world that he gave his own Son, but that love was not indiscriminate and here we see the focus of that love: his own who were in the world.

The term ‘world’ as used here speaks of the whole order that stands opposed to God and decaying in its sin. The love of Jesus is not such that he will make life in this world a little easier for all who believe on him; rather, he will rescue them out of this world that they might be part of the new creation his resurrection heralds and inaugurates (see 20:1).

Jesus had loved his disciples and expressed it in countless ways but now he was going to love them to the end. How is that love going to be expressed in what follows? Let me suggest a number of helpful ways to think through this love of Jesus:

i) He will teach his disciples, in deed and in word. It’s interesting that the first thing he does it to act out something of the reality of his love in the foot-washing that follows. Not all teaching is verbal; some of the most powerful is Spirit-filled example.

But these next chapters are then full of verbal teaching of the highest order. In love, Jesus helps to prepare his disciples to face the grim reality of his death. They will indeed be sad; it is not loving to hide that from them. It would not be loving to pretend that all will go swimmingly for them and so Jesus warns them of persecution to come on account of his name. It is not loving to mask the moral imperatives of the gospel and so Jesus, in love, urges his disciples to genuine obedience and faithful following and promises them the help they will need to do so.

This is teaching for us, given in love by our Saviour. Don’t despise what he says to you, however hard it might seem – it is teaching full of love.

ii) In love, Jesus prays for his people – for the disciples and for all who will believe in him through them. What intensity there is in that prayer – because his love is intense and passionate for his people. And still today he prays for us – ever-living to intercede for his own as a great and sympathetic high priest.

iii) But, of course, the ultimate expression of his love for his own, and which is prefigured in the foot-washing episode, is the self-giving of Jesus to the death of the cross. On our behalf, he engages the powers of sin and evil; he faces our fears, he shoulders our sin, he absorbs our agony, in order to lead us to the unspeakable joy of the rescue and release of the true exodus from slavery.

Do you know of any higher love? Can anything else capture your heart so completely and so truly? “To the end”.

Thursday, 8 February 2007

those who sleep in boats

Jonah is commissioned by God but flees.
Jesus is commissioned by God and follows.

Jonah is caught in a storm sent by God.
Jesus is caught in a storm of satanic fury.

Jonah sleeps through the storm while the others on the boat are full of terror.
Jesus sleeps through the storm while the others on the boat are full of terror.

Jonah sleeps callously and carelessly.
Jesus sleeps content in his Father's care.

Jonah is woken and his voice (indirectly) is the means for the storm to be stilled ("throw me into the sea").
Jesus is woken and his voice is the means for the storm to be stilled ("Peace; be still.").

Two ways to sleep in a boat; one way to do so well.

Thursday, 25 January 2007

Leah: pain and praise

Genesis 29:31-35 records the birth and naming of Jacob's first four sons by Leah. Interestingly, it is she who names the children, not Jacob (is he really that disinterested?) and the names, along with the reasoning behind them, seem to give some insight into Leah's handling of the pain of her situation.

When the first son is born, she names him Reuben because she believes YHWH has seen her misery, being relatively unloved by her husband. Her hope is that Jacob will love her now.

But that seems not to be the case. When her second son is born, she names him Simeon because YHWH has heard she is (still) not loved. The fond hopes that surrounded the birth of Reuben were clearly not fulfilled.

Leah's pain evidently continues; when her third son is born she names him Levi, ardently hoping that now at last his birth will cause her husband to be attached to her. It seems a forlorn hope. She has been placed in an intolerable situation and not by her own choice. She is deeply pained at Jacob's rejection of her and longs for him to have a change of heart in order to heal the pain in hers. But it seems Jacob is unmoved by the kindness of YHWH in giving sons to he and Leah and blind to the favour of YHWH towards Leah.

Yet when her fourth son is born, she names him Judah saying, "This time I will praise YHWH". No mention this time of her husband, nor of her desperate desire to be loved and accepted by him (an entirely understandable and legitimate desire).

But Leah, so slighted and demeaned, is not abandoned in her misery and with the birth of Judah she recognises this. No doubt the pain remains but she is able now to praise YHWH out of her pain. Reconciled to her situation, she is able to rejoice in the God who is ever-loving and ever-loyal to his people. "This time" her focus is higher than her husband and her joy greater than he could arouse or sustain. To be loved and accepted by YHWH and to know his favour means more than anything else could.

Maybe it's no coincidence that at this point "she stopped having children".

Tuesday, 23 January 2007

stirring the pot

In many books, a new chapter begins with a quote from some notable or other, or some not-notable-but-still-quotable or other; in his book, The Forgotten Ways: Reactivating the Missional Church, Alan Hirsch does just that. Here are a couple of such quotes that are worth pondering:

A church which pitches its tents without constantly looking out for new horizons, which does not continually strike camp, is being untrue to its calling.. . . [We must] play down our longing for certainty, accept what is risky, and live by improvisation and experiment. (Hans Küng, The Church as the People of God)

If you want to build a ship, don’t summon people to buy wood, prepare tools, distribute jobs, and organize the work, rather teach people the yearning for the wide, boundless ocean. (Antoine de Saint-Exupéry)


Leithart Links

Peter Leithart's writing is always stimulating - here are some recent posts that seemed especially so to me.

Unbearable Burden of Evangelicalism

You Shall Know Them By Their Fear

Fear and Fear

Saturday, 20 January 2007

Christian Idolatry

A huge religious marketplace has been set up in North America to meet the needs and fantasies of people just like us. There are conferences and gatherings custom-designed to give us the lift we need. There are books, videos, and seminars that promise to let us in on the Christian "secret" of whatever it is we feel is lacking in our life-financial security, well-behaved children, weight loss, sex, travel to holy sites, exciting worship, celebrity teachers. The people who promote these goods and services all smile a lot and are good-looking. They are obviously not bored.

It isn't long before we're standing in line to buy whatever is being offered. And because none of the purchases does what we had hoped for, or at least not for long, we're soon back to buy another, and then another. The process is addicting. We become consumers of packaged spiritualities.

This also is idolatry. We never think of using this term because everything we're buying or paying for is defined by the adjective Christian. But idolatry it is, nevertheless. It's God packaged as a product-God depersonalized and made available as a technique or a program. The Christian market in idols has never been more brisk or lucrative. The late medieval indulgences that provoked Luther's righteous wrath are small potatoes compared to what's going on in our evangelical backyard.

Eugene H. Peterson, Living the Resurrection, NavPress 2006, pp.35,36

How to Encourage the Church

The incident of Peter and Cornelius is a major one within the book of Acts. Cornelius is presented as a prime example of the gospel being received by Gentiles. But, in terms of reaching out to Gentiles, Acts 11:19ff could be at least as significant as the Cornelius incident. It may well have begun before Peter’s encounter with Cornelius (see v.19) and, in terms of numbers and the future significance of the church at Antioch, it is extremely important.

All of which makes it very interesting that this expansion to the Gentiles is not an organised mission but takes place naturally as the church scatters following the death of Stephen. In Acts, missionaries are sent out by churches and usually work to a clear plan but that needs to be set alongside what we see here of these early believers sharing the gospel as they went.

The calling and responsibility to reach out to others is not the preserve of pastors, evangelists and missionaries; it is a whole church calling and we each have a responsibility to take it to heart. These early believers shared the gospel naturally, as they travelled, as they set up home, as they worked. And this was the norm, not the exception.

It is, of course, right and good that churches and mission agencies plan and partner in the sending-out of gospel workers. It would be a betrayal of the Lord not to do so. But the responsibility of churches and mission agencies is not simply to initiate ministries; it is also about being sensitive to and catching-up with what the Lord is already doing in spontaneous and (humanly-speaking) unplanned ways. That was the reality faced here by the church in Jerusalem.

As the gospel spreads among the Gentiles, one of the big questions to be faced is, How will the church in Jerusalem react? When Philip preached in Samaria, they sent Peter and John to authenticate the work, to give it the apostolic imprimatur. Given that these are Gentiles, will they react with suspicion and try to suppress what is going on?

What they do is send Barnabas to them. This time they send one man, not two. He isn’t an apostle. He’s a native of Cyprus, as were many of these believers. And he was a man of exceptional spirit, warm and encouraging. This doesn’t smack of control and suspicion but of contribution and support for this young church. The church at Jerusalem was the original one; the apostles were the authentic witnesses to the Lord Jesus and his gospel. But that doesn’t mean they must hereafter control everything that happens in terms of the spread of the gospel. It is the Lord Jesus who directs the mission; they are his co-workers. So instead of sending people to check out this new development, they choose instead to send a man who will cheer on those involved in it.

Sending Barnabas to Antioch was perhaps the greatest thing the church at Jerusalem ever did for their brothers and sisters there. He is an outstanding example of a Christian and of what a church-worker should be. He isn’t jealous of their work, nor does he want to take it over; he rejoices in the work and encourages them to keep going and remain true to the Lord. His concern was not sectarian (to make them Jews) but to strengthen their Christian life and witness.

But this humble man is ready to acknowledge that he doesn’t have all the gifts necessary to help this church and so he goes on a long 200-mile round trip to bring Saul to join him in the work. He recognised the Lord’s calling of Saul and the gifts he’d been given – what a great encouragement to Saul that must have been! And, in God’s providence, this almost incidental action has immense strategic significance for the whole progress of the gospel; it is from Antioch that Barnabas and Saul will be sent out by the church into further mission.

The rest, as they say and as we know, is history.


(this piece first appeared in the UFM Worldwide magazine, 4 Corners, Jan-April 2007)

Thursday, 4 January 2007

Esther 9,10

1. Fighting the Good Fight
In ch.8 we read of the counter-decree issued by Xerxes at the request of Esther and Mordecai. This decree authorises the Jews to protect themselves against any who attack them under the terms of the first decree. It is, essentially, a defensive decree and one that, if enacted, will preserve the Jewish nation and, hence, God’s purposes through them to bless the world.

The future of the Jews was secured by the decree but the fight still needed to be fought on the ground, on the 13th of Adar. As we noted last time, this captures an essential feature of Christian life and experience: Jesus has overcome sin and evil and in him we are saved. Yet, at the same time, that salvation needs to be worked out ‘on the ground’. Just as the Jews needed to take up arms to defend themselves in the battle recorded in ch.9 so too we need to be active in the spiritual warfare that marks the Christian life.

That the battle waged against the Jews was also spiritual in its nature is indicated by the naming of Haman’s sons. Evidence suggests their names were associated with demonic powers in Persian times. This is not just one more instance of nation against nation but this is another instalment of the long battle waged by Satan against the Lord and his people.

Our battle against spiritual foes is real and intense. Paul exhorts us in Ephesians 6 to get ready for battle and to stand strong in the Lord and in his might. But how do we know that we’ll be successful in the battle? Who’s to say we won’t be lost somewhere along the way? Just as the decree of Xerxes is effectively worked out, so too the word of the Lord will stand; it will not return to him empty and fruitless but will do all he sends it out to do.

And that word is for us in Christ, who has triumphed over all the powers of evil and is seated in the highest of all places, far above every other power or name. There is our confidence; there is our hope. Death has no hold on us, evil cannot claim us, because Jesus died and rose again.

But we do need to make sure we fight as God wants us too. We’re told 3 times here (vv.10,15,16) that the Jews refused to take plunder from their enemies, even though the decree specifically allowed for it (remember, it was ‘line for line’ with the original decree). Why did they refuse to what they were permitted to do? Because that wasn’t how the Lord had instructed them to fight holy war. And when they disobeyed his command, it had only brought them trouble (as with Achan).

We need to listen very seriously to what the Lord says about fighting for him. It is not a fight that can be waged with weapons of steel, nor with words that wound. We aim to take every thought captive to Christ in order that blessing may follow.

But was it right for Esther to ask for and get an extra day to finish off the Jews’ enemies? That’s quite a tricky issue and commentators divide on it. It might be that this is evidence that Esther goes too far, that she is overcome in her thinking by worldly ways.

Or it might be that there was a need to do so which is not specified in the text. Certainly, there is precedent for the Lord extending the time for Israel to deal with their enemies (cf. Josh 10:12ff), a parallel which may well indicate approval for what Esther does here. I think that is the case but perhaps the best solution is to say with one writer, “Rather than attempting to resolve [the issue], we should reflect upon it”.

2. Recalling the Victory

With the victory won, the Jews celebrate with great joy and gladness. The story of this great deliverance is written up for future generations to keep the feast and recall the mercies of God. Feasting and joy are always appropriate responses to the salvation God has worked for us as his people and, indeed, Jesus instituted that in the meal he gave us, a eucharistic meal.

What is interesting about this scene in Esther is that a new tradition is started, one that the Lord has not authorised in the law and one that is set in place by a man (Mordecai) who is neither a priest nor an appointed leader of the Jewish people.

Does that make the celebration wrong? Not at all. This is very much in keeping with what Paul writes in Romans 14:5ff where he recognises that, for some, particular days are special and they choose to keep them as such; others choose not to. Who’s wrong? Neither are wrong; both are right. What matters is that whatever is done is done from faith.

Notice, too, the name that this new feast is given. It is known as ‘purim’ because of the ‘pur’ (‘lot’) that Haman has cast “for their ruin and destruction” (9:24). But the Hebrew term for ‘lot’ had a second related meaning, signifying the thing that the casting of the lot obtained.

As such, there is great irony and encouragement in the naming of the feast – listen to how one writer puts it: “the name of the feast, Purim, is a double entendre, signifying that the lot, or destiny, of God’s people would not be determined by Haman’s casting of lots before his gods. Only Yahweh determines the roll of the lot, and only Yahweh determines the lot of his people.” (Jobes)

When we come to the table or whenever we recall the goodness of God to us in Jesus, we can thank him that our lives are not in the balance of fate but held in his powerful grace, revealed in Jesus.

3. God’s People in God’s World

As we come to the end of this remarkable story, I want us to notice that the two great heroes in the story (humanly speaking) are just what we would think of as ‘ordinary believers’. They were not appointed leaders of the Jewish nation; they weren’t priests or prophets set apart by the Lord. They were just a couple of everyday Jews who happened to be in the wrong/right place at that time, who stood up to be counted.

You don’t need to have great and spectacular gifts for your life to count for God and for his kingdom. What counts is God and his ability to take and use people like us, broken and baffled, frail and fallible. Not all of their decisions and actions were necessarily wise but we can say that their overall response to the events that surged around them was God-honouring and kingdom-extending. Wouldn’t it be great if the same thing could be said of us one day too?

In the course of their story, as it is retold here, the absence of God is striking. We’ve suggested it is the writer’s way of making the point that the Lord is behind and underneath everything that happens – nothing is beyond his sanction and control. But maybe it serves a further purpose: Esther and Mordecai may not have been especially conscious of God leading them as the story unfolded; he may have seemed, at times, strangely absent to them, just as he sometimes does to us.

We can’t always say we know what the Lord is doing with us or through us. But that’s what the life of faith looks like – faith is being certain of what we do not see. And so Esther and Mordecai teach us a valuable lesson, as they walk by faith and not by sight. They can’t see the end from the beginning but their hands are in the hand of the one who can and who does.

And the God whom they trust may choose to work through mighty miracles or he may not, as in this case. Do we only trust God if he will work miracles on our behalf? Maybe one of the lessons of this book for the Jewish people was that their God was also active to deliver them not only in mighty miracles like the escape from Egypt but also in unseen ways and through unlikely people. Maybe it’s a lesson for us to learn, too.

“As we continue to live faithfully in Christ, we can be sure that whatever happens to us – the decisions we make, the mistakes we regret, and even the sins that shame us – are all links in God’s plan not only for our individual lives but for his greater work in history. Through his inscrutable ways, along paths that are sometimes dark and treacherous, he brings his people to that day when all creation will rejoice that our sorrow has been turned to joy and our mourning into celebration.” Jobes p.231

Esther 8

1. The Great Reversal – continued
In chapters 6 & 7, we saw a great reversal taking place – the proud and persecuting Haman was humbled and hung while the faithful and reliable Mordecai was favoured and raised by the king. And we noted that such is the way of God: he opposes the proud and gives grace to the humble; he brings low those who trust in themselves but raises those who trust in him.

In the opening verses of chapter 8 that great reversal continues. The estate of Haman is given over to Esther and then the king’s signet ring that had been given to Haman is placed instead on Mordecai’s hand and Esther appoints him over Haman’s estate. Then, in v.15, we see Mordecai leaving the palace clothed in royal robes and crowned with gold and joy and gladness break out among the Jews who so recently had been weeping and fasting.

We could take the words of Xerxes in 6:9 and re-work them slightly to explain this dramatic reversal: ‘This is what is done for those whom the Lord delights to honour’. He honours those who honour him and that is vividly demonstrated here.

This scene also portrays, in its localised and temporal manner, the destiny of all who put their trust in the Lord and in his Messiah. In Rev. 5:10 we hear a song of praise to the Lamb who conquered by his death; he’s worshipped as the one who with his blood “purchased for God members of every tribe and language and people and nation.” But what was his purpose in doing so? To make them “a kingdom and priests to serve our God and they will reign on the earth”.

Do you see what’s happening there? The purpose of God in creation for humanity to bring God’s good rule to the whole of creation – a purpose which sin had opposed – is now brought to fruition through the death of Jesus. The destiny of all God’s people is to serve him and to rule on the earth. That doesn’t mean domination in this present age but is looking further forward, to the time when the kingdoms of this world have become the kingdoms of our God and of his Messiah.

But of course it does also mean that where we have opportunities now to promote the will and ways of God that we do so. But in saying that we must always bear the larger more perfect picture in mind.

Here are God’s creation purposes being worked out for fallen, sinful humanity through the crucified Messiah. That is a reality to which the great reversal put in place by the Lord in this book so clearly points towards. However the world perceives the church (1 John 3:1 tells us it fails to recognise the reality of our relationship with the Lord) this is our destiny.

2. The Now & the Not-yet
The reversal of fortunes is, of course, massively significant for the whole Jewish people throughout the entire Persian empire. A decree is issued, sealed with the king’s signet ring, that effectively annuls the previous decree that sought their slaughter. And so there is great rejoicing among the Jews. The Lord has bestowed on them “a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair” (Is. 61:3).

This is surely the only possible response to such a great deliverance, to so great a salvation. It ought also to be mirrored in our lives in the light of what God has done for us in Jesus – he has annulled the decree of death for our sins by a decree that says whoever believes in the crucified and risen Messiah is saved. What joy and blessing is ours!

But notice that there is still a great battle to be fought in the next chapter. Yes, the decree has changed everything but it has still got to be worked out on the ground. This is very much a case of the now and the not-yet for the Jewish people. Come the 13th of Adar, they’ll be in the thick of it.

That reality is also the case for us today and is often brought to the fore in the NT. Now we are the people of God, now we are truly saved, but there is still a race to be run and a fight to be fought. That reality is one we must grapple with if we are to make genuine and lasting progress in the life of faith.

Many of our troubles as believers can often be traced to a failure to grasp these twin points: that we are saved and yet we are also being saved. Yes, sin has been overcome by Jesus through his cross but we have got to work out the reality of that in our lives. You see this very much in Rom. 6 – we have been united to Jesus in his death and resurrection and therefore must live in the light of that.

3. A holy war?

But I guess it’s what the Jews had to do that has caused the most discussion on this chapter and the next. The decree that Esther asks the king to make, and which Mordecai takes to all the peoples, is a direct counterpart to the one issued by Haman, point for point, line for line. They are given licence to “destroy, kill and annihilate any armed force, and their women and children, of any nationality or province that might attack them and to plunder the property of their enemies.” (8:12)

This has been a problem, not just for commentators, but for many thoughtful Bible-reading believers. Doesn’t this just reduce the Jews to the level of the Persians? Won’t they now be just as bad as Haman?

Some think that’s the point being made here – that the Jews are not chosen by God because they’re better than the rest but because of his grace. And, of course, that’s true – but is that really the point being made here? Others suggest that we’re meant to make a contrast between the severity of this decree and the ‘softer’ approach of the NT. Again, there is a need to bring the NT into the equation but not perhaps in that way.

Just what should we make of this holy war? And not only this one here but those throughout the OT? Can they be justified or do we need to steer people away from these less presentable parts?

That is a very big topic to try to handle and we can’t do it justice on this occasion but let me try to sketch something of an answer. In terms of the decree itself, we ought to notice that it is defensive and only permits the Jews to act in order to protect themselves. That alone is worth bearing in mind here. But there are other significant points we need to make and bear in mind. Let me mention 2 of them.

i) God has a right to judge people, as and when he chooses to do so and will do so fairly and with complete justice. His calling of his people to arms in the OT has that as an aspect to it; Israel fights the Amorites when their sin has reached its full measure (see Gen. 15:16). Who of us can tell the Lord when and how he should judge? What we know for sure is that the judge of all the earth will do right.

ii) The whole progress of salvation history needs to be kept in mind. Why does the Lord choose to defend and protect the Jews? Why does he drive out nations before them? Because he’s at work through the Jews to bring healing and salvation to all the nations of the earth and to every people group.

That is why he turns his guns on Israel when they turn aside to idols and sin against the Lord. They cannot be allowed to do so; the glory of God and the whole future of humanity is at stake. And that is also why he doesn’t make an end of them but remains faithful to his covenant and brings the exile to an end.

This battle in Persia is tied to the Lord’s purposes of salvation for the whole world. That’s why he decrees the preservation of his people. It also explains why the battle is so intense – the nations’ hatred of Israel in the Bible is not simple nationalism but spiritual warfare.

But the OT is only part of the picture. We need to see where the whole story is heading. God’s holy war against sin and evil reaches its climax on the cross of Calvary; God’s faithfulness to his covenant promises to redeem the world climax in the death of his son as a sin offering. At the cross, the justice and love of God are revealed and reconciled.

And so holy war is brought to an end, or at least redefined. The followers of Jesus are not to take up arms to extend his kingdom; violence will never change the hearts of sinful people (v.17 aside). The NT is clear: we do wage war but not with worldly weapons. Rather it is by the Word of God, the gospel, and by prayer and faithful living that we wrestle against powers, not flesh and blood.

The war was won by Jesus, through his cross. We fight in the light of that, seeking to be clothed in the armour of light. That’s our calling.

Esther 6,7

People sometimes say that the Bible is great literature and we are quick to counter by reminding them that it is so much more than that. Of course it is so much more than that but we do need to take the point: the God who caused the Bible to be written is a great artist and we can expect that, in at least some places, the Bible will display amazing literary artistry.

One such place is in this book of Esther. Although ch.4 was very significant in terms of the story, it is in chapters 6&7 that the issues raised are settled (in principle). Not only can we see that in terms of how the story flows but also in how the book is structured.

There are 3 pairs of feasts in the book, the middle pair being these two feasts given by Esther for Xerxes and Haman. Structurally, the whole story hinges around what happens between the banquets given by Esther; this is the heart of the book.

And then we notice that the annals of Xerxes, the records about his reign get mentioned 3 times; again, the second instance (i.e. the middle one) is here in ch.6.

In these ways and more, the author of Esther wants us to see that this is the heart of the book, that here is where the issues are being decided. Great literary skill is being put in the service of the truth and together they combine to speak with power and urgency to us.

1. The humble honoured; the arrogant abased
In terms of those issues, we’re going to look in the first place at the way the big picture is played out here. Put simply, we see here the outworking of a principle that Jesus often referred to in his ministry: God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. Here we see, in Mordecai and Haman, the humble honoured and the arrogant abased.

And the point is made with great power and irony. After Esther’s first banquet, the king can’t sleep and asks for the records of his reign to be read to him – we’d feel certain that would send us to sleep but Xerxes probably has other things in mind.
Whatever his reason, he hears again of what Mordecai did to warn him of the attempted coup and ask what has been done to honour Mordecai. Of course, the answer is nothing; he has been entirely overlooked.

Just then, Haman arrives, bright and early to get the king to agree to have Mordecai killed. But the king asks what should be done for the one the king delights to honour – Haman straight away thinks he means him but boy is he in for a shock! The king orders Haman to go out and robe Mordecai and lead him in honoured procession through the town.

How striking is God’s way of honouring those who honour him! How deeply ironic that Haman should have his murderous plans brought to nothing. But there is worse yet in store for Haman. When he tells his family what has happened, they at least recognise that he’s onto a loser because he is fighting a Jew – God is with Mordecai so Haman’s case is lost.

And it is. At the next feast, Xerxes asks Esther for her petition and learns that Haman has set in motion the plan to exterminate the Jews, Esther included. His fate is quickly sealed – with great irony, he is impaled on the giant pole he had intended to slaughter Mordecai on.

This is the way of the God of the Bible. Those who are oppressed and who look to him for help will be heard. Those who oppose the Lord in their pride will be brought low; very low.

That principle functions as both a comfort and a challenge. Here is one writer expresses both those aspects: “In our darkest hours we can be assured of our final destiny of glory with Christ. We can be assured that the reversal of circumstances we so crave will one day be ours. By contrast, no matter how prosperous or powerful, those who are not in Christ will ultimately also suffer a reversal of fortune. Like Haman, they will find themselves caught in a web of destruction that hindsight will show to be of their own making. It can happen at any time.” (Jobes p.162)


2. How God Works

That is the big picture of these chapters but it is important that we also pay close attention to the smaller details which form that larger picture.

How does the Lord work his purposes out here? Is it through human ingenuity and plotting? Certainly, as we saw last time, Esther is very careful how she approaches the situation and that is still the case here. She is careful not to accuse the king of doing wrong (he after all signed the edict) but puts the blame where it really lies, with Haman.

But however wisely and prudently Esther acts, the show belongs to God. And the one who can work mighty miracles to deliver his people (as he so often did) chooses here not to do so; rather, he works through the seemingly insignificant detail of a sleepless night.

Had Xerxes not had that disturbed night, who knows what the outcome might have been. But he was awoken; and, when he asked for the chronicles of his reign to be read, it just so happens that he hears about Mordecai. God is at work, acting to deliver his people, not through human might or ingenuity, nor by mighty miracle but in quiet and unexpected ways.

As the hymn says, “This is your God!” This is the God who worked in the life of Jesus through a combination of the ordinary and the miraculous in order to effect our rescue from sin. Here is the God who, in ways seen and unseen, drew us to himself.

And here is the God who is still at work in our lives, in the life of his church – yes, in large and surprising ways but also in quiet ways and through seemingly insignificant events. Isn’t this just what Jesus was teaching in the parables of the mustard seed and the yeast? Small events, hidden from sight, yet with greatly important outcomes.

Doesn’t this mean we can trust the Lord to be at work in our lives as his people in the most unexpected of ways? And doesn’t this give a renewed sense of significance to what we might think of as trivial or mundane?

3. To pity or to punish?

God is at work, in his providence and through the hero of this book, Queen Esther. But there are some who believe Esther fails badly in this scene. When the king flies into a rage and decides that Haman’s fate is sealed, they suggest that Esther should have interceded on behalf of Haman, vile though he was. She was in a position to pity him but instead opts to punish.

Are they right to make that criticism? There are a number of points to bear in mind here.

Firstly, in general terms, there is a time to pity but there is also a time to punish. God’s grace will not always be extended (to individuals or the human race at large) and his justice will not always be held back.

As someone has rightly asked, “Is pity always a virtue? And is absence of it always a character flaw (especially in a woman)? Perhaps it is in this very moment that Esther exhibits her greatest strength of character and fulfils her highest calling.” (Jobes p.167)

And then, more specifically, we need to remember there is a larger OT storyline being worked out here. Haman, as we have been made aware, is an Agagite, a descendent of the king that Saul should have slain but allowed to live (Samuel had to finish the job). Is Esther aware of that and ready now not to make the same mistake?

She had a position of responsibility, both in the Persian kingdom and in relation to the Jews and their history (with which the whole destiny of the world is connected). Esther plays her part well here; there is a time for justice. God is good to those who seek him but all must seek him “while he may be found”.

Esther 5

1. Gladrags & Grace
Esther told Mordecai that she would have a go – she would go in to see the king but it would be at great personal peril. Xerxes was hardly a model king and could be quite unpredictable; an artefact from that time shows the king on the throne holding his sceptre and behind him stands a guard with an axe, ready to do the king’s will.

So it would be quite understandable if Esther pulled back, that further reflection had convinced her not to go through with it. But that is not so. She has fasted and prayed and now takes the bold step of standing in the inner court, in full view of the king.

Esther has chosen to play the part of a faithful Jew by playing the part of the Persian Queen. We read in v.1 that she “put on her royal robes” (more literally, ‘put on royalty’) and then went and deliberately stood in the inner court where the King would see her.

To be faithful to her Jewish heritage and to take her stand as one of God’s people, she did not need to renounce her position in the world but rather use it, as Mordecai had encouraged her to do. And Esther does just that to the very best of her ability – she approaches the King as the Queen.

This isn’t a case of playing worldly power games; rather, this is what it looks like to be as wise as a serpent and as harmless as a dove. She is doing what Jesus urged his followers to do – “use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves”.

There is a lesson here for us to grasp. In this life, we are given positions of responsibility, of varying sorts. To be faithful as believers does not necessarily mean abdicating those positions but rather seeking to use them as best we can for the sake of the gospel. That doesn’t mean a crass abuse of our position (e.g. buying everyone on the firm a Bible with company funds) but rather well thought-out and sensitive witness and testimony to the grace of God and the blessings of honouring Jesus as Lord.

Esther puts on her gladrags but she does so while trusting in God’s grace. And his grace was certainly active in this scene, for when the king sees her he holds out the sceptre to her, permitting her to come into his presence and asking her what she wants.

She can ask for up to half the kingdom and he’ll give it to her (that was not literally meant but was indicating a generous spirit toward her). What causes him to do that? His heart is in the hand of the Lord and he turns it wherever he wishes. God honours those who honour him; that’s a fact. It may not always be affirmed how we might hope it to be but it is always true and it is so here with Esther.

Yes, Esther is right to be active; yes, she needs to be wise in her approach, but without the intervention of God, her cause is hopeless. The life of faith is 100% God and 100% us – we work our salvation out with fear and trembling, knowing that God is at work in us.

2. Prayer & Purpose
With that combination of gladrags and grace, Esther finds herself in the king’s presence. What happens next may be quite unexpected: Esther invites the king, along with Haman, to a banquet. And later, when they were enjoying the food and wine, she tells the king she’ll make her request at a further banquet.

This is unexpected because we might have thought she would at once beg the king for mercy on behalf of the Jews. Quite why Esther chooses this more roundabout way is not clear; what it does show is that her fasting and praying has led to her behaving in a very careful, thought-out way. She’s got her script together and is working to plan.

Just as our responsibility and God’s grace go together, so too do our praying and our planning. Some might suggest that there is no need for Esther to be quite so careful or constrained – hasn’t God said he will give us just what we need, when we need it? She should just trust God and say whatever he gives her in the moment.

There are some who would say that also applies to the preaching of God’s Word – there’s really no need for detailed preparation, since Jesus promised to guide his disciples into all truth and the Spirit will give the words as necessary.
By extension, the same could be said about our witnessing to others about Jesus – don’t worry what to say, don’t think ahead just trust and he’ll give you the words to speak.

As a preacher, that sounds immensely attractive. But as a preacher who wants to be biblical, it doesn’t hold water. Jesus did promise his disciples to lead them into the truth – and so we have the NT; he did promise that his Spirit would give them the words to speak when they were hauled into court – and he did so; the book of Acts more than makes that clear to us.

But that is a far cry from suggesting preachers don’t need to bother preparing to preach or that we don’t need to give careful thought to how we might witness in different situations. It’s a far cry from suggesting that we need not bother to think ahead of how we will handle potentially difficult situations and conversations.

Of course we must trust God; of course he is able to, and does, give us words to speak and help us in a thousand ways. But that doesn’t remove our responsibility to prepare as best we can. Praying and planning go hand in hand, just as they did here with Esther.

3. Pride & Pain
Esther prayed and trusted God’s grace; she planned well and acted accordingly. While we have to wait to see what her exact plan is, we can see that it has an immediate impact on Haman. He thinks he’s not only well-up in the king’s opinion but also now in Esther’s. As far as he can see, his star is on the rise.

But his enjoyment of the moment is choked when he sees Mordecai still refusing to honour him. And he goes home utterly beside himself with rage and unable to appreciate what he thinks of as his blessings. The only way his family can console him is to suggest that he gets a gallows built and has Mordecai hung on the next day.

What we’re seeing here is the real nature of sin and what it does to human beings who are consumed by pride and self-importance. Here we see rage against God and his people destroying Haman as it flares and burns so passionately.

The spiritual warfare in which we are engaged is not a minor conflict, it isn’t what footballers refer to as ‘handbags’; it is utterly serious because the opposition of a hostile world to the one true God is implacable.

How can God’s people survive where there is such intense hatred and loathing? Notice what v.1 tells us: Esther goes to the king “on the third day”. Rather rings a bell doesn’t it? Is this going to be the beginning of a kind-of resurrection for the Jews? Will this moment herald the rising of their hopes for deliverance? It would seem so.

Our God is a God who intervenes and delivers his people. He has done so consistently throughout history but, supremely, he did so through the cross and resurrection of Jesus. That’s where all our hope lies; it’s also where the only hope for the world lies.

But the wretched picture of Haman and his hatred is also a solemn reminder of the sinfulness of all our hearts. How often are we robbed from enjoying the genuine blessings of God by jealousy or pride? And given that is so, what hope can there be for people like us?

Someone has helped us with that with these words: “Had God not extended the cross of Jesus Christ to the world, all would die in his presence. ‘On the third day’ after the final judgement transpired on the cross, Jesus Christ arose to imperishable life, guaranteeing safety to enter God’s presence to all who reach out in faith to touch that cross-shaped sceptre.” (Jobes p.147).

That’s where all our hope lies – in the grace of God demonstrated in his Son, in the cross and resurrection of our Lord. That ought to give us more than enough cause to rejoice today and to return to our callings with fresh energy and vigour, to the glory of God. Amen.

Esther 4

The Jewish community in Persia is in a very dangerous situation. The king has issued a decree for their slaughter, at the instigation of Haman, as he raged over the refusal of Mordecai the Jew to bow down before him.

Mordecai’s reaction to the decree of the king is, understandably, one of shock and horror. We’re told that he “tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and ashes and went out into the city, wailing loudly and bitterly” (v.1). We can’t say for sure but perhaps his reaction was deepened by a realisation that his actions have contributed to the crisis coming upon his people.

In addition to that, we’re also told “there was great mourning among the Jews, with fasting, weeping and wailing” (v.3). That isn’t an unexpected response but what is noticeable, in Biblical terms, is how closely this resembles the words of Joel 2:12ff.

That correspondence between the description of the Jews in v.3 and the words of Joel helps us to see what is going on here. In Joel, the problem is the people’s sin; they brought judgement on themselves and are being encouraged to turn back to the Lord and to discover his mercy.

Here, in Persia, the Jews are in exile because of their sin (although many have, by now, returned to Judah). And we hold in mind the possibility that both Esther and Mordecai have made bad decisions – certainly, Mordecai could have been more peaceable in his response to Haman.

So the allusion to Joel 2 is reminding us that, when we are opposed because the world is hostile to God and to his people, when we ourselves may well have exacerbated the situation and failed the Lord, we are not without hope. This is what the Lord says: “Return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning”. And why? “For he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love” (Joel 2:12f).

Situations that may seem hopeless to us, that seem to have spiralled well beyond our control, are not hopeless for this reason: God is merciful and invites us to turn to him in our need, to return to him from our sin. His invitation is as genuine as his grace.

But when we do that, when we return to the Lord and depend on him, looking to him for mercy, we’re not necessarily to be passive in waiting to be delivered. Mordecai clearly casts himself upon the Lord for help but at the same time, when his state of mind becomes known to Esther, he takes the opportunity to ask her to help. God’s mercy and our actions are not incompatible

Who knows…?
Mordecai is trusting God for help but that doesn’t mean he is going to be passive. When Esther tries to find out what the problem is, he urges her to ask the king for mercy. The exchange between them at this point makes some very important points that we must grasp.

Mordecai urges her to go to the king but Esther is reluctant to do so. Anyone who did that without being asked by the king was in great danger. And Esther has not seen the king for 30 days now – a suggestion that maybe she is no longer flavour of the month, at least not as strongly as before.

Esther reticence is quite understandable. If she just bursts into the king’s presence, she’s likely to anger him, perhaps leading to her losing her life and certainly not delivering the Jews. Common sense tells you to look for another way.

But Mordecai isn’t having any of that. If she doesn’t speak up, her family will be lost but “relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place” (v.14). Quite what Mordecai means by the other Jews being saved but Esther and her family lost is not immediately clear. What we can say is that his hope is in God to deliver his people, one way or another.

Esther can choose to sit back if that’s what she wants but she will lose out if she does so, at least in how Mordecai understands the situation. The future of the people is not in doubt, but Esther’s is.

Whether Mordecai is right in that last aspect is a moot point but what is certain is that the Lord will always be with his people, to deliver them, although not necessarily as we might think he ought to do so at times. His care for us is undeniable and his wisdom unsearchable; so we can and must trust him to keep his word to us.

But notice what Mordecai says next – words that for many people are the most famous in this book – “And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” (v.14) Mordecai is urging Esther to act; some even suggest he threatens her when he says she and her family are at risk (hardly likely). But as well as urging her to act for that reason, he is also laying before her the possibility that it’s for this very reason, for this exact situation, that God has placed her in the position she’s in.

Notice what Mordecai is saying. He isn’t claiming to have a complete handle on the situation; he isn’t saying, ‘God has told me what you must do.’ Rather, he is encouraging Esther to consider the possibility that God is in this, that this is how his providence is working out.

We can learn a lesson from the way he couches the suggestion. Too often perhaps we think we know just what God is up to, that we know just how to read the signs of his providence, that we are in the know, that we’ve got him sussed. That just isn’t so. We need to be more humble than that; we need to think of emulating David in Psalm 131 when he adopts a position of humility and trust in the Lord.

It’s interesting to compare his words here with Joel 2 again – the same “Who knows?” is found there in v.14 – Mordecai is not saying he knows for certain what will take place but there is a strength in his hope which is borne out of knowledge of God’s character and his promises in scripture.

But as well as learning from how Mordecai speaks here, what he says is also of great importance. he is affirming that God is always at work and is doing things we may not see the reason for at the time. Nothing is wasted with him – even the mistakes and wrong choices we make (if that is true of Esther).

This is a powerful point and made all the more so by the fact that the Lord is nowhere mentioned in this book. When he seems to be absent, we can trust that he is still at work; when we can’t see what he may be doing, we can rest in his all-wise providence.

If I die, I die
The point has been powerfully put to Esther that her royal position may have been decreed by the Lord for just this time and for just this purpose, the rescue of her people. She is the only person in the book with 2 names – she is Esther and she is Hadassah; she is the Persian Queen and she is the Jewish girl. Whose side will she take?

Esther faces one of the most crucial moments in her life. This choice is going to define the rest of her days. Such moments do come along for each one of us – perhaps many times in the course of our walk of faith. Maybe the issue seems small or maybe it seems larger – but either way, it will significantly affect our future. Such times, if we’re aware of their significance, can be scary!

What should we do? What can we learn from Esther? Just this: Esther stood up to be counted; she took her place with the Lord’s people; she refused to hide away and pretend it had nothing to do with her. And she does so without knowing what the outcome will be for her personally – “If I die, I die” (v.16). She may well lose her life but that is not going to deter her. Some things are simply right, whatever the cost, and Esther was determined to do the right.

Up to this point in the story, Esther has been passive; others have taken decisions that affected her, whether Xerxes as the king or Mordecai as her guardian. But now the time has come for her to be proactive, to make decisions – and, interestingly, the roles are reversed with Mordecai – he now does what she says. And Esther knows she needs others to help her so she asks that they fast (& therefore pray) for and with her.

Do you want to be encouraged to take your stand like Esther? Listen to these words of one writer:

“The decision to be identified with Christ energises our lives. It gives us a purpose bigger than our own concerns and problems and a hope that goes beyond our own death. It transforms us into people loved by the Holy Spirit, human agents of God’s grace and love in the world…By sustained obedience to God’s Word, which the apostle Paul calls ‘the renewing of your mind’ (Rom 12:2), God’s promise of his transforming work in our own lives is realised and touches the lives of others in ways we can neither control nor predict.” (Jobes, Esther, NIVAC, p.141).

Take your stand, in whatever situation God has placed you. Previous failures and sin do not debar you from honouring God today. So why not do so?