On the night of Good Friday, there’s a documentary on TV trying to piece together the 18 years of Jesus’ life that were not documented in the Bible. On Holy Saturday, there’s another documentary discussing about who wrote the Bible. Perhaps I ask myself why I am watching it, but there’s a part of me which realises that I need to in order to understand the desecration before us.
I find myself so emotionally and spiritually drained just hearing people refer to the Bible as a ‘history book’, or Christianity as a ‘religion’ or a ‘cult’. What has been documented in certain books of the Bible match the history books we have, so why do we still doubt its contents if it contains the tangible evidence we search for? They say that Moses could not have written the first five books of the Bible, so the real question is not about who wrote the bible, but who edited it? Edited? The audacity of man astounds me. You can’t edit the Bible like you do a primary school essay. In Matthew 5:18, Jesus himself said, “I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished.” Moses may have penned the words, but God was the author. Could Moses have known about the beginning of Creation if God had not spoken to him?
The human nature is that of an argumentative one. We have been at war with God, ourselves and every other thing on earth since the day we were here. Put a group of five men together to write a book and there will be disagreement in no time. But the Bible, though having been ‘written’ by so many people, finds no contradiction in itself. Try finding a human explanation for that.
Jesus may have been tortured by the Roman soldiers, but perhaps the blows that we deal to him today are much worse. I remember the story of a young girl who died at the hands of her persecutors for refusing to spit on the Bible. In a small way, I can understand her pain. Seeing how others try to diminish the glory of God, by containing it in a jar and manufacturing it like a can of baked beans, is like a dagger through the heart, over and over again.
When will the day finally come when we look at our blood-stained hands and realise what we’ve done? It was only after Jesus took his last breath and the earth shook that the Roman soldier finally exclaimed ‘Surely this man was the Son of God!’ I pray that we will not wait until we find ourselves before the judgement seat before we say the same…
Saturday 22 March 2008
Friday 14 March 2008
gladiator
"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:38, 39
It's nearly toward the end of Lent and although usually God takes this period to reveal more of who he is to me, things are a little different this time. Rather, I've learnt more of who I am in him. It's not about being narcissistic but rather that, unless I learn how to see myself the way God sees me, I can never work towards what he wants me to become. Ironic but true.
For one thing, I've understood how to give myself wholly to love, no longer fearing that I might get distracted from God or confused between the concepts of human and Godly love. I understand the meaning of 1 John 4:18 - 'perfect love drives out all fear' and I've embraced the promise in Romans 8, that nothing can separate us from the love of God. It's really profoundly simple, but it takes a one-to-one with God to really wrap your head around it.
Recently, I watched a documentary on the gladiators fighting in the Colosseum and it told a story of a slave who became a gladiator. What was so intriguing about this story was that this particular gladiator and his opponent were granted his freedom at the end of the fight, although battles usually ended in death for one of the gladiators. But it brought to my mind, how we too, like slaves were redeemed by Jesus. We were chosen by him to fight the spiritual battles and when like Paul, have 'fought the good fight and finished the race', we gain life and freedom. Although the gladiators fought hard and some died fighting, they were freed from a life of slavery. So perhaps the Christian life isn't quite so different after all, we too were redeemed from a life of slavery, some will live to the end of their days, and some will die for the call.
I don't know where my call leads me, but I once read the beautiful story of a martyr who refused to deny Jesus because he had read the story of Peter's denial, and did not wish to weep bitterly. I have never been imprisoned or tortured, but too often, I have failed to weep as I should. Peter denied our Lord and forsook him when he had promised never to. It's human fear that made Peter deny Jesus and tell him that Jesus couldn't save him and he had to take matters into his own hands. Each time when trials come, and human nature gets in the way, and the panic makes me take things into my own hands, I do exactly what Peter did. It's a subtle denial, but a denial no less. By trying to fix things myself, it's as though I'm denying Jesus, and saying I don't know him, instead of giving him my problems to fix. Looking ahead, may it be that either I should know the bitter tears of denial, or that I should learn to really depend on our Lord.
It's nearly toward the end of Lent and although usually God takes this period to reveal more of who he is to me, things are a little different this time. Rather, I've learnt more of who I am in him. It's not about being narcissistic but rather that, unless I learn how to see myself the way God sees me, I can never work towards what he wants me to become. Ironic but true.
For one thing, I've understood how to give myself wholly to love, no longer fearing that I might get distracted from God or confused between the concepts of human and Godly love. I understand the meaning of 1 John 4:18 - 'perfect love drives out all fear' and I've embraced the promise in Romans 8, that nothing can separate us from the love of God. It's really profoundly simple, but it takes a one-to-one with God to really wrap your head around it.
Recently, I watched a documentary on the gladiators fighting in the Colosseum and it told a story of a slave who became a gladiator. What was so intriguing about this story was that this particular gladiator and his opponent were granted his freedom at the end of the fight, although battles usually ended in death for one of the gladiators. But it brought to my mind, how we too, like slaves were redeemed by Jesus. We were chosen by him to fight the spiritual battles and when like Paul, have 'fought the good fight and finished the race', we gain life and freedom. Although the gladiators fought hard and some died fighting, they were freed from a life of slavery. So perhaps the Christian life isn't quite so different after all, we too were redeemed from a life of slavery, some will live to the end of their days, and some will die for the call.
I don't know where my call leads me, but I once read the beautiful story of a martyr who refused to deny Jesus because he had read the story of Peter's denial, and did not wish to weep bitterly. I have never been imprisoned or tortured, but too often, I have failed to weep as I should. Peter denied our Lord and forsook him when he had promised never to. It's human fear that made Peter deny Jesus and tell him that Jesus couldn't save him and he had to take matters into his own hands. Each time when trials come, and human nature gets in the way, and the panic makes me take things into my own hands, I do exactly what Peter did. It's a subtle denial, but a denial no less. By trying to fix things myself, it's as though I'm denying Jesus, and saying I don't know him, instead of giving him my problems to fix. Looking ahead, may it be that either I should know the bitter tears of denial, or that I should learn to really depend on our Lord.
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