What is that?

 

I find this video deeply moving. Apart from reminding me that there is love to be celebrated between a Father and Son, it also reminds me vividly of the Gospel, the revealed love of God through Jesus.

You see, even though the father and his child are sitting close together in time and space on that bench, they are far apart. They do not communicate; there is a great distance between them. Paul writes to the Ephesians to remind them that, at one time,

you were living apart from Christ. You were excluded from citizenship among the people of God, and you did not know the covenant promises God had made to them. You lived in this world without God and without hope. (Eph 2:12)

The father tries to communicate, tries to find a way to connect with the one he loves, but he cannot be understood and the result is that they find themselves even further apart, bound only by guilt, regret and anger.

And so the father in this parable story locates his diary, finds the entry and presents it to his son to read. Here are the words that will make the difference in both their lives. So too, it is the Word of God that makes the difference to the world. The Gospel of John’s opening words are revelatory and revolutionary:

In the beginning the Word already existed.     The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God. … And the Word became human and made his home amongst us. (John 1: 1, 2 & 14)

Jesus is the Word of God. He is the perfect communication and very representation of God. If we have studied the words, character and nature of Jesus, then we have studied the words, character and nature of God. The Word reveals the Father’s infinite love and compassion for His children, just as the father’s diary reveals the passion he has for his son.

Then …, there is that pause; that time to reflect – the weighing of options and the coming to a decision. Yes, that son on the bench has seen the extent to which his father cares for him, but it remains that son’s choice as to how he will respond. He could redouble his anger and fling the words back in his father’s face; he could declare his independence – “That was then. This is now. I know better than you!”

But the beauty of the moment, the soul stirring excellence of that choice, is that the son chooses to respond in kind to his father. He embraces him, connects with him, renews his love for him and for that time and in that space, there is the deepest peace and the intimacy of closeness.

THAT is what it means to respond to the love of God, through the Word that is Christ Jesus. It makes you whole.

The Cross

For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. (John 3: 16)

Every so often, we get sick. It happens. Most of the time, it is a passing thing, some ‘lurgy’ picked up somewhere that causes us some temporary inconvenience (unless it is ‘man-flu’ of course, in which case it is critically debilitating). Generally, however, these things come and these things go.

Every so often, however, something comes along that is a little more serious. It causes us to worry, or it lingers too long and we need a solution – something that will cure us. So, we head off to the doctor. The doctor examines us, diagnoses what the problem is, writes out a prescription and sends us on our way. Sometimes there is sympathy doled out with the process, but more often than not, it is a dispassionate, scientific process. As part of this process, that prescription document takes on meaning. It becomes an integral part of the process that will lead to healing and wholeness, of being put right. That piece of paper, however, does not enthuse us or cause us to gush with excitement – it is just a piece of paper, part of the process. And that is as it should be.

The danger for Christians, however, is when they start  to look upon the Cross of Jesus Christ in the same way as they look at the prescription form. That it is part of the process that brings us to God; that there is some meaning to it, but we remain detached from its significance and we forget the deep spiritual and emotional content of the cross.

Perhaps we have seen the cross too often, heard the recited rites and phrases too regularly, switched off mentally when we read the words, ‘Christ died…’. We have become inured to the significance of the Cross and to the work that was effected by Christ as He hung upon it.

It is only when we allow ourselves to be truly reminded of the significance of the Cross – that it applies personally, intimately and irrevocably to ME – that we wake from this malaise and become involved in what the cross really, really means. It is not part of the process, but was the means by which God the Father and God the Son fully gave of themselves to me that I should receive spiritual wholeness, healing and renewal.

The cross is powerful, emotional, soul-stirring, intimate and wrenching. It reminds me of how awful sin is, how much God loves me and how, in His giving of Himself, I am compelled to respond to this love and generosity with love and giving of my own. I pray that this Easter, and every one that I live to enjoy, may be a time of vivid reminder and re-awakening to the significance of the Cross.