Anybody Got a Light?

John 6:16-21

16  When evening came, his disciples went down to the sea, 17  got into a boat, and started across the sea to Capernaum. It was now dark, and Jesus had not yet come to them. 18  The sea became rough because a strong wind was blowing. 19  When they had rowed about three or four miles, they saw Jesus walking on the sea and coming near the boat, and they were frightened. 20  But he said to them, “It is I; do not be afraid.” 21  Then they were glad to take him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going.

Unless the Lord reveals Himself, a man cannot know Him.  In human relationships, we can only know someone as far as they are willing to reveal themselves.  When we fathom the great distance between the Creator and the sinful creature of humankind, we see the vast impossibility of knowing God apart from His revealing Himself to us (1 Cor. 2:14).  As Romans tells us, “Our foolish hearts are darkened” against God (Rom. 1:21).  

The effective manner in which God has chosen to reveal Himself to us is in the God-man of Jesus Christ.  “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father” (John 14:9).  But even seeing Jesus is impossible apart from a heart changed by God Himself.  The initiation must be from God to man.  It could never be (because of the great chasm between the nature of man and the nature of God) man initiating with God (John 14:6).  

Darkness, in the Scriptures, often represents this great separation from God.  This is so in our present passage.  It was dark while the disciples were away from Jesus four miles out on the troubled waters of the Sea of Galilee.  It was not until Jesus chose to reveal Himself to the disciples that they were calmed in their fears.  The Light shone in the darkness.

Our fears will never be abated until we are settled in Christ.  Our sins will speak guilt and punishment into our consciences.  Our circumstances will drive us to anxiousness.  Our relationships will enrage and frighten us.  It is only when Jesus enters and reveals and convinces and applies that He is our rescuer from darkness and sin that light penetrates through darkness and tells us that it is well with our souls.  

Isa 51:10, 12

10  “Was it not you who dried up the sea,

the waters of the great deep,

who made the depths of the sea a way

for the redeemed to pass over?

12  “‘I, I am he who comforts you . . .’”

Sardines and Such

Much to the chagrin of my co-laborers in the office, I stockpile cans of sardines and Wasa crackers in a cabinet for a quick inexpensive lunch.  The crackers are dry and crunchy and the sardines are . . . well . . . stinky fish.  This isn’t kingly food.  It’s not caviar and truffles.  

When Jesus provided bread and fish to the five thousand He did not give them a fancy feast.  John tells us it was barley bread.  This was the bread of poor people.  It was easy to make and traveled well, meaning, it was dry and hard to chew.  The fish were most probably small (sardine-like), transportable fish, dried for preserving.  Yum.  Wasa and sardines are lookin’ good now aren’t they?  

So if Jesus is going to do this miracle, why wouldn’t He do it up right?  Why not checkered cloths and Longaberger baskets filled with chicken salad, sparkling champaign, and grapes?  

Why?  Because Jesus is the Bread of life.  Could it be to show the vast difference between the bread of earth and the Bread of Heaven?  One is temporal and fleeting and the other eternal and infinite.  Since Jesus is using these signs and wonders to point to Him, He surely wants us to see that the things of this world on which we depend are insignificant compared to the life He brings.  

Jesus has given the things in this life to us just as He gave bread and fish to overabundance to the five thousand.  These things were never meant to bring ultimate satisfaction.  Now we taste in them of sorrow and strife and bitterness.  But life in Christ is hope that through these very gall-filled things we find life in Him and Him alone.  (John 6)

Fog Lifter

In April, I drove down to Edisto Island on the South Carolina coast to camp for a couple of nights.  When I arrived, the sun was out and the clapper rails were shaking their voices in the marsh out from my campsite.  Not long after the tent was set, a cool breeze pushed the marsh grasses in my direction and, without warning, fingers of a fog grabbed the grass and pulled its way quickly across the marsh tucking everything out of sight for fifty yards and beyond.  It was an unexpected and drastic event.  

I thought of the boatmen setting out traps for crabs, the shrimp boats heaving their catch on board, and the sailors reefing their mainsails as the fog bank stuck hard and fast.  I also thought of the novice.  I thought of the boater who suddenly found himself in the dark thick panic.  

An inexperienced sailor can be a great danger, not only to himself, but also to other boaters.  On the other hand, a weathered sailor knows to stay calm and to faithfully stick to his bearings.  

Likewise, the new and/or immature Christian will often come undone at the sight or feeling of a trial.  Seasoned Christians will also, often, lose their senses for a time.  When this occurs, we too become a danger to ourselves and those around us.  Everything seems thick as night and un-penetrable.  Panic sends us flurrying.  We grab hold of the ropes of the world to right ourselves, be it anger, distrust, hopelessness, or despair.  But we have every means on board to see our way through the fog.  We have a compass. 

Psalm 63:1-7

1  O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;

my soul thirsts for you;

my flesh faints for you,

as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

2  So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,

beholding your power and glory.

3  Because your steadfast love is better than life,

my lips will praise you.

4  So I will bless you as long as I live;

in your name I will lift up my hands.

5  My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,

and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips,

6  when I remember you upon my bed,

and meditate on you in the watches of the night;

7  for you have been my help,

and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.

David was in a wilderness.  It was “a dry and weary land where there is no water.”  It was a place where a person could panic and die.  But David has been through adversity.  He has lost his bearings before in what seemed like many a hopeless day and night.  This psalm depicts David quickly coming to the means God has given for a firm grounding . . . a compass bearing.  His thoughts and meditations go to “the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory.”  The sanctuary was the place where God’s people met with God.  It was the place where the sacrifice was made on behalf of sin.  It was the place where the necessity of Christ was depicted.  It was where the people saw  that God was for them and not against them as their sins were atoned for (covered) and His own righteousness given for them.  It re-set David like a knocked down sailboat now righted so that he could “be satisfied as with fat and rich food, and (his) mouth . . . praise . . . with joyful lips.”

We too have means of grace given to us to lift us when our circumstances are foggy.  We have a compass to direct us to our Savior who never leaves or forsakes us:  God’s Word, the sacraments, prayer, and fellowship with other Christians.  These three tools are the means, the compass, to steady us and cause us to see Christ as our safe harbor.  

We also have the privilege of the Holy Spirit, often depicted in Scripture as our paraclete - our comforter - one who comes alongside as a Help.  The Holy Spirit is a seasoned Captain who does not panic, but gently calms our spirits, using the means of grace to show us our Savior.  He reminds us to not trust our natural inclinations to panic and run aground or into others; not to cast blame, feel defeated, or self-important.

As we mature as believers, Lord willing, we come more quickly to see the means of grace as our compass to Christ.  We also, rather than become a hindrance to shipwreck ourselves and others, can be a help to direct others to calmly but surely look to Christ. 

Double WHAT?

Okay kiddos, it’s that time of day where we take a brief time out of our busy schedules for a theological moment.  Ready?  Double imputation.    

Have you ever been in a quandary about the seeming contrariness of some Bible passages?  Take the ones we are considering today for our lesson.  Some passages speak of our being ‘dead in sin’ and how even the most righteous thing we could possibly do (yes, even praying on top of a mountain after having fasted for a month, for the orphans in Russia’s most dilapidated orphanage) are as filthy as menstrual rags.  Other passages tell us that, when the judgment day comes, we will be judged by our works (Matt. 25; Rev. 20).  So . . . if all of our works are sinful, who can stand?  Ah . . . enter double imputation!

Double imputation is fancy terminology for our sins being imputed to Christ, and Christ’s righteousness being imputed to us.  Adam disobeyed God in the garden.  Because he was the representative being of the whole human race, all fell with him in his sin.  Kind of like when our Commander in Chief declares war on another nation.  It is not just the president going to war, the whole nation is at war.  Adam’s sin was imputed to us.  We enter into a war against God by virtue of partaking in Adam’s bloodline.  

But there is a Second Adam.  The first blew it, the second restores a humanity back to God.  Jesus is the second Adam.  He took our sin upon Himself.  We hear about that a lot in church.  “He died for my sin” is a regular confession from our mouths.  But just as important is the fact that “He gave me His righteousness.”  As tightly as we were bound to Adam’s sin, we are more tightly bound to Christ’s righteousness; that is, those who live trusting this to be true.  

Romans 5:17 - “If, because of one man's trespass (Adam’s), death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ.” 

II Corinthians 5:21: “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” 

So do our works matter?  Yesirree they matter.  They matter because the works we stand on are the works of Christ’s righteousness imputed to us.  There is great worth in the good works we do.  Even though tainted with false motivations, they are covered by Christ’s righteousness which He paid for by His blood.  Eph 2:10 reads, “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.”  

Our calling? To go glorify Christ by doing good to all, trusting in His righteousness on our behalf.