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Kevin Carter, a famous photojournalist, took this shot when documenting the Sudan famine. He won the pulitzer prize for taking it but killed himself 6 weeks later; his critics said he had lost his humanity for the sake of a picture.
I’m sure we’re all more or less familiar with the Last Night scene – When Jesus stooped to the position of mere servant, washing the feet of his mere disciples, and also cleaned the dirt off his mere enemy (Judas). With that in mind, follow the track of John’s thinking as the story goes along…
“It was just before the Passover Feast. Jesus knew that the time had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love.
The evening meal was being served, and the devil had already prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so 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, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.”
Did you notice that? It’s almost John meant to say, “In spite of the fact that Judas was going to betray Jesus, Jesus trusted the Father and still stooped down to wash the feet of his disciples – Judas included.”
And if that’s not what John meant to communicate by lining up the event in this order, we do know that even though Christ was cognizant of Judas’ intentions, he STILL washed his feet.
It just baffles me. In all history there is no single act of betrayal that is as infamous or as tragic as this. Judas’ actions give us the archetype of duplicity and deception. It doesn’t get worse than this – to betray God himself for 30 pieces of silver and to do it with a kiss.
Now, I want you to catch this – in spite of this circumstance, despite the impending betrayal of Judas, Jesus still “showed [Judas] the full extent of his love”; he still washed and dried his feet.
Doesn’t he do that for us? Wasn’t he fully cognizant of the fact that he would die, shed his own precious blood on my behalf, suffer the wrath of God in my place because of my sin, and didn’t he do all this knowing that I would STILL continue to sin after the fact? Did he not stoop down and wash me of my filth, fully knowing I would later betray him with the idolatry in my life? This is amazing grace.
There’s more. There is application. After demonstrating this humbling act of love and service, he says to them, “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. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.”
Advice: Become the mere servant of your mere enemy, and wash their feet though they betray you. And do the same for everyone else.
No joke, I’ve been slightly obsessed with cleaning the past two days. Heather and I listened to a Jonny Mac sermon on “Self-Discipline” and its indispensability in the Christian’s life.
A bit of advice from that sermon – to become spiritually disciplined, the Christian must work towards becoming physically organized. “Be the kind of person who can never put up a mess in your own space,” said Jonny Mac and I’d have to say that cut me deep; I’m a changed man. I see dust; I wipe it up. I see loose reams of paper; I relocate them to the recycling bag. I see dishes encrusted in dried out mushiness; I wash them (of course, I leave Jon’s sometimes).
So I’ve turned to the wonderful product called “Lysol Disinfecting Wipes,” and cleaning, which had once seemed such a waste of my valuable time, has now become a speedy and fulfilling process.
I highly recommend this product – not only will your house look squeaky, you’re soul will feel disciplined. I guarantee it.
We don’t take sin seriously – let’s be honest. Far more often we’re embarrassed that others might find out about our sin than we are broken before the God who always knows of it.
If you struggle with sin, if you live in habitual sin, if you feel convicted to repent of that sin, or if you’re apathetic and feel no remorse for that sin, then I have one piece of advice for you: read John Owen’s book The Mortification of Sin.
Why? Because he will guide your attention to the kinds of verses and Bible teachings that force you think about what your sin is, what effect it has had upon you, and what horrific implications it might have hidden in your life.
It might sound weird, but I appreciate how much this book crushed me and exposed me.
Here’s what I like even more – though the book will create in you the kinds of wretched feelings we’re too kind and soft to experience, its ending will put in you the same kind of joy that was in the prodigal the moment his father threw his arms around him and drew him back into the house for a feast. To know what that is like is reason enough to read this book.
An excerpt from the last chapter:
“My soul has become parched ground, and a habitation of dragons. I have made promises and broken them. I have made vows, but did not keep them. Many times I have been persuaded that I have gained the victory, and that I should be delivered, but I was deceived. Now I plainly see that without some great help and assistance, I will perish and be forced to abandon God.
“But yet, though this is my state and condition, I will lift up my hands that hang down, and strengthen my feeble knees, for, behold, the Lord Jesus Christ has all the fullness of grace in His heart, and all the fullness of power in His hand. He is able to slay all these enemies. There is sufficient provision in Him for my relief and assistance. He can take my drooping, dying soul and make me more than a conqueror (Rom. 8:37)”
Last night I read this verse: For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father” (Romans 8:15)
As a Christian I find this to be one of the most beautiful realities I’ve ever experienced – despite the muck from which I come, the muck I myself created, God has adopted me as one of his own and now I’m his kid.
As such I’m always encouraged when I see Christians adopting children our of a difficulty. A family that has done this, and has exemplified the kind of love and compassion God has shown us, recently asked that I take some photos of the two children they’ve adopted.
Aren’t they adorable?
“Our first youth is of no value; for we are never conscious of it, until after it is gone.”
This is said by Holgrave, the daguerreotypist, and I like it not only because it is said by fellow photographer early in the art but because I see a lot of this in my own life.
I think the first youth I had, the youth that so many people bemoan as a thing sadly lost in the past, was pretty cheesy at it’s best. All my young interests and pleasures were just a bunch of hand-me-downs I got from peers and family.
I think the passions, inspirations, pleasures, and joys we seek after being refined by a bit of wisdom and life are the more worthwhile “youth.”
The second youth is always better.
John 12:44-50
Then Jesus cried out, “When a man believes in me, he does not believe in me only, but in the one who sent me. When he looks at me, he sees the one who sent me. I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.
“As for the person who hears my words but does not keep them, I do not judge him. For I did not come to judge the world, but to save it. There is a judge for the one who rejects me and does not accept my words; that very word which I spoke will condemn him at the last day. For I did not speak of my own accord, but the Father who sent me commanded me what to say and how to say it. I know that his command leads to eternal life. So whatever I say is just what the Father has told me to say.”
Jesus Christ, when he came, and specifically when he died and rose again, presented us with an option we could not have otherwise: when we look at him, we see the Father. What I’m referring to is access to God, a relationship with God – reconciliation to God.
What an offering. What a sacrifice. What kindness. Did you know there is nothing harsh or malicious in Jesus’ coming to earth. Look at that, “For I did not come to judge the world, but to save it.”
And this is a pretty common theme in John.
Below is the occurrence of Christ’s unwillingness to condemn (specifically within the book of John):
3:17 Jesus was not sent to condemn
5:24 Belief in Christ removes condemnation
5:29-30 Christ’s judgment is in fact the Father’s judgment
5:45 Christ does not accuse – the accuser is Moses.
6:37 He will never drive away those who come to him
8:11 He does not condemn the woman
8:15 He does not judge anyone. If he does, his judgment is right because of the Father.
8:26 Note: in the context of a conversation with the Pharisees he “has much to say in judgment about them.”
Pretty fantastic, huh? If we are exposed to anything in these verses, we’re exposed to the agenda of Christ – the purpose and plan of his coming. His appearing on earth was not done in order to worsen the condition of man, was not to judge, but instead to provide a means of escape from judgment.
It baffles me – Jesus Christ himself came to earth humbled as a man. And he did not do this to judge me but to instead absorb the judgment that was to be poured out on me because of my sin. Many things happened in his coming to earth, but this was his primary purpose: to create the only opportunity for peace and reconciliation between God and man – that is, God and you, God and me.
So what do these other verses mean?
9:39 Christ came for judgment
5:22 The Father has entrusted all judgment to the son
How do these verses work out together? Doesn’t this contradict what other verses teach? How did Christ not come to condemn? How does verse 8:15 say that he does not judge anyone when these verses seem to suggest judgment is his purpose?
I’m no theologian, but I think the answer occurs in chapter 12
“As for the person who hears my words but does not keep them, I do not judge him. For I did not come to judge the world, but to save it. There is a judge for the one who rejects me and does not accept my words; that very word which I spoke will condemn him at the last day.”
When you reject the only cure for cancer you, in so doing, choose cancer. When you reject Christ, who is the only vicarious atonement for sin, you, in so doing, choose to atone for your sin yourself (which means everlasting judgment).
We often envision our Christianity as a gavel of judgment – we envision Christ as somber and disappointed on the cross – we live under the microscope of religious scrutiny in our Christian communities. But we forget this: God absolutely loves us and desires that we be right with him. He came to earth not to condemn but to save. Trip on that.
Choose him. Choose Christ each day. Accept his words, and feed on them; read them voraciously, for he came to create peace between you and God.
