The Power of the Risen Lord

I, if I be lifted up

THE Fourth Gospel portrays the crucifixion as exaltation.  It was, as Jesus declared, the hour of glory, the moment of victory.  ‘I have overcome the world,’ he proclaimed.  It was the triumph of goodness over evil, of love over hatred, of mercy, compassion and gentleness over pride, hypocrisy, discrimination and above all, aggression – everything that he had challenged throughout his ministry.  His yielding to his captors in the garden and his acknowledged authority before Pilate were unassailable vindications of his sovereignty.  It was also the culmination of all God’s dealings with Israel in the past.  As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so Jesus declared his uplifting would be the path for faith.  We can recall the eyes of the Israelites lifted in trust, the grief of Abraham, journeying for three days to offer his beloved son and then to receive him back, the smoke of sacrifice rising to God as a sweet-smelling savour.  All these scenes enrich our understanding of the triumph of Christ on the Cross.  This is the fulfilment, the filling out of the shadows, the outlines sketched before by the brief glimpses of divine revelation, witnessed by men of old.  Here is the full embodiment of God’s glory, the total reality of God’s purpose in flesh and blood, in a real human life.  But it is also the pinnacle of God’s purpose.  ‘It is finished,’ Jesus declared.  This is the consummation of all God’s purpose – the final manifestation of His love for mankind, though still awaiting the ultimate denouement to the world.  For the work does not finish there.

For they were afraid

As Moses descended from the Mount with his face shining and Elijah fled from the splendour of Carmel to experience ‘the still, small voice’ in the wilderness and Jesus came down from the Mount of Transfiguration to the burdens and problems of the world, so from the exaltation of the Cross we come to the tomb in perplexity, wonder and apprehension.  And that is where the earliest manuscripts of Mark’s Gospel leave us.  They conclude at verse 8 of chapter 16, as many versions state.  The verses from 9 to 20 were apparently added later, as they appear only in later manuscripts and seem to be a compilation from the Gospels of Matthew and Luke.  Some however have argued for a lost page; but of this there is no evidence.  These attempts to amend or explain spring from an assumption that the Gospel of Mark must have included an appearance of the risen Lord and a commission to his disciples, but above all from the belief that such an abrupt ending is unique, unlikely and inappropriate.
 A perceptive, sensitive and perhaps dramatic reading of the Gospel may lead to a different conclusion.  Without doubt this account of Jesus’ ministry is dynamic, powerful and challenging.  The word translated by ‘immediately’, ‘at once’, ‘straightway’ and ‘forthwith’,  presents a picture of speed, urgency and zeal.  The disciples’ reactions are no less emotive.  They are amazed at the healing of the demoniac. They are terrified by the storm, but even more so by the authority of one who could control the wind and the sea.  They are astounded at the healing of the paralytic but even more by the claim of Jesus to forgive sins.  And if the disciples are portrayed emotionally, Jesus himself is grieved and angry and challenging.  ‘How is it that ye have no faith?’  Time and again we are faced with amazement, fear, wonder, astonishment on the part of the people while Jesus also marvels at unbelief and is moved with compassion.  The crowds run, flock and wonder, the disciples fear and Jesus challenges and rebukes, uncompromising and unremitting.  This is powerful, dynamic narrative, honest and unadorned, frank and faithful.  If, as many believe and earliest traditions support, this is really Peter’s story, dictated to Mark, acknowledged as his son, we can feel through these pages, the rush of the wind, the beat of the waves, the hustling of the crowds, the discordant emotions of the disciples, and above all the powerful, commanding authority of Jesus.  But the most poignant verse, unique to Mark, is 10:32.  Jesus has just foretold his death but leads his disciples in the way to Jerusalem.  Is Peter recounting his own emotions, seeing Jesus going on before them – ‘as we followed, we were afraid’? – surely a truly moving living image of what he saw and felt, fear and amazement?  Is this the challenge of Jesus to his disciples – a majestic, solitary figure striding ahead, leading the way to his death?
But is not this exactly what we are faced with in chapter 16, verse 8 – the women trembling and amazed at the announcement of his resurrection, awesome, terrifying, beyond knowledge, argument or expectation – an experience not to be explained or reasoned, merely accepted, before which we must all bow in humble contrition and yet somehow faithful acceptance?  For the Lord is risen and his living presence is the ongoing experience of Christian faith.

Seated at God’s right hand

The eyes of his faithful disciples followed the trail of his departing figure, gradually enveloped in cloud.  Had they not experienced the glory on the Mount, the transcendent glory, transforming his whole being with translucent radiance, a foretaste of future majesty?  And had not Jesus claimed this sovereignty in his discourse in the Temple by declaring the right of a son of David, whom David himself had called Lord, to be seated at God’s right hand?  The memory of the uplifted figure of Elijah was no doubt also a potent remembrance – swept to heaven on a whirlwind and a chariot and horses of fire, leaving to his devoted disciple his mantle, conferring upon him a double portion.of his master’s spirit.  So the disciples went back to Jerusalem, rejoicing, confident in the assurance of Jesus’ living presence and, emboldened by the Pentecost experience, began their triumphant mission.  The resurrection of Jesus, the seal of God’s approval and proof of Jesus’ lordship, attested by living witnesses and endorsed by their own experience, becomes the cornerstone of their preaching.  As Peter declares, it was the very man whom they had crucified, who now reigns as Lord in heaven at God’s right hand.  No wonder the crowds flocked to repent and be baptised.  ‘God has made this same Jesus, whom ye have crucified, both Lord and Christ.’  And this was the powerful message that they carried with them through the world – the risen and exalted Lord, giving new, thrilling hope to a world in need and the assurance of God’s involvement in the world ‘in that he hath raised him from the dead.’  We can see from the hollow eyes and grief-absorbed figures on the Greek tombstones, still preserved from that contemporary world, how powerful and dynamic this message was to a world which had lost hope after a century of civil war and was now beginning to look for an answer to its deepest needs, as its literature attests.  This is the message that rings from the book of Acts and still rings out – ‘The Lord is risen: he is risen indeed!’  He is alive, present to Paul on the Damascus road, to Stephen at the moment of his martyrdom, to Paul in the impending shipwreck.  The Lord is there, alive, enthroned in glory and majesty but communicating to those who have eyes to see.

The High Priest in heaven

The letter to the Hebrews enhances the scene.  Here we see the enthroned, seated Lord, as also the High Priest, of an order higher than Melchizedek (Psalm 110) – the consummation of all the sacrificial priestly functions of the Mosaic order.  By offering his own life on the Cross, he presented to God the perfect sacrifice with his own precious blood, thereby rendering all other sacrifices unnecessary.  As the High Priest entered into the Most Holy Place once a year on the Day of Atonement, so Jesus entered into the very presence of God with his own blood as an offering for sins.  And there he remains, seated and enthroned, his task performed, until he appears again to those who look for him ‘without sin unto salvation’.  But now as High Priest, he mediates between man and God.  He is still the man Christ Jesus, still bearing the marks of his humanity and therefore able to sympathise with and understand the problems and temptations of men.  He is the perfect priest ‘having suffered being tempted, he is able to succour those who are tempted.’  We are therefore now able to approach God in prayer through him, knowing that we shall find grace in time of need.  The exalted Christ is also the merciful High Priest.  But even more significantly at his death, the veil of the Temple was torn from top to bottom – the veil which concealed the presence of God in the Most Holy Place from the people except the High Priest once a year.  Through the death of Christ the way to God was opened up for all who have the boldness – freedom of speech – to enter.  Did he not say that he was the Way, that if he were lifted up, he would draw all men unto him?  He died to show us the way to God and to lead us to the throne of grace.

The Abiding Presence

As Jesus was about to leave his sorrowing disciples, having told them of his impending death, he spoke to them of triumph, victory, overcoming and the dominant word in this discourse in John’s Gospel is ‘abiding’.  The Greek original is actually translated by a wide variety of English words – dwell, remain, stay, abide, wait, tarry – but in the original the verb meno springs from the text as the key to the whole passage.  Although clearly he is about to leave them, he will still be there even more intimately than before – ‘If a man love me, he will keep my words and my Father will love him and we will come and make our abode with him.’ – a promise of deep, personal relationship.  Did he not assure his disciples later, as he was departing, that he would be with them always ‘even to the end of the world.’? (Matthew 28:20.)  In John’s Gospel the relationship is more specifically delineated.  Through the indwelling spirit of Jesus they would be guided, led, instructed.  Their eyes would be opened to deeper truths and fuller insight into the mind of Christ; it is very clear from the Gospel records that often the disciples did not understand their Master.  They were amazed, terrified, astonished at his power and authority, his challenges and rebukes.  But as with all who follow the path of life with Christ, the light of understanding begins to dawn slowly.  We all have to grow and develop in our awareness of the Master.  Slowly we learn the way of the Lord, as we follow haltingly, stumbling and often falling through failure, disappointment, disillusionment and awareness of need and sometimes through the challenges and problems of daily life.  But if we look to him and seek to find him, the majesty, the glory and the consummate perfection of his character in its compassionate love, humble service and unlimited self-giving, as well as his dynamic presence becomes more and more clear.  The Christian life is a life of learning, growing, developing into the pattern of our Lord and He will show us the way, as we seek to follow.  He will teach, guide and lead in us and through us, shaping us more and more into his image.  For he is the standard, the yardstick against which all can be judged – the divine measure of righteousness and truth.  He gave his life that we might share it.

For me to live is Christ

To Paul the relationship with Jesus was the hallmark of his whole life.  On the Damascus road his life took on a new dimension.  As this experience had time to mature during the quiet years of preparation before his call to the mission field, he recognised that Jesus had challenged him with a new agenda.  The Jewish hope and expectation, built up through prophetic vision, of Israel, as God’s chosen servant to bring His message to the world and inaugurate a new age for mankind, had turned into a revolutionary manifesto, a call to arms to challenge the power of Rome.  Was not this the expectation which fired their response to Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem?  Was not this their appointed leader, son of David, who would lead them to victory over their enemies?  But he did not.  From a manifesto of violent aggression and military dominance, he led them to a proclamation of healing, binding and enlightenment (Luke 4.) – a message of a life, surrendered, yielded, transformed and vindicated by God’s gift of triumphant restoration.  Whereas before, Paul’s life had been dominated by the concepts of temple, law and ordinance and above all by the exclusive privilege of the Jewish race, God’s chosen people, these were now seen in a new light of spiritual insight into the meaning of Jesus’ own life.  The true temple was his body, offered for others, to provide a source of life and an inclusion in the family of God.  For ‘Ye are the temple of the Holy Spirit’, as he wrote to Corinth.  The law was now the inner motivation of love and compassion.  The clarion call of the Gospel was to repent, not initially of sins and shortcomings.  The word means ‘to change one’s mind’, to turn from the old way of thinking into the new, to find in Christ a new agenda and a new dynamic and with this to go out into the world.

In his own hired house

There is no terminal point or final conclusion to the Gospels or the book of Acts.  They all look onwards and upwards.  The work goes on. The living presence of Jesus is the outgoing and ongoing experience of Christian life and mission.  And thus it was for Paul, imprisoned in bonds and restricted in movement both in Cæsarea for two years and later in Rome.  But his heart, mind and thoughts went out in loving concern to those new Christian communities, born out of his devoted labours, his frequent sufferings and untiring efforts – communities he knew so well and people for whom he had toiled and travailed.  How could he, limited and bound by distance, nurture these babes in Christ?  Surely it could be only by the supreme answer which had been given him by revelation – the power of the living Lord, the very presence of Jesus in and through them.  As this had been to him the perfect answer to his need – ‘It is hard for you to kick against the pricks.’ – so he knew that Jesus was the solution to all the problems of these struggling, infant churches.  And so he writes to them, each individually, sensitively aware of each of their personal needs and problems.  He writes with love, compassion and understanding, as he presents the living Lord to them, as the supreme answer to their different situations, as he is also to us in our various needs and circumstances.   ‘Jesus, the same yesterday, today and for ever,’ working through the lives and hearts of those who are open to him.

Stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made you free

Paul had already had to contend with many problems in the young Christian communities he had established.  His earliest missionary journey had taken him to the cities of Galatia, an umbrella term, incorporating all the districts of central Asia Minor in one Roman province.  In these cities the Gospel had been enthusiastically accepted by many Gentiles, who experienced, through faith in the risen Lord, a real hope and an ennobling power in their own lives.  But when these new converts were persuaded by Jewish Christians of the necessity of also obeying the Jewish laws of circumcision, diet etc., the apostle became alarmed.  The Gospel was for all a response of faith, of freedom in Christ, not an enslavement to law.  So he writes with passionate concern for them to recognise their status in Christ as sons not servants, free men in Christ through the spirit. – ‘for if righteousness come by the law, then Christ is dead in vain.’  Through faith in Jesus Christ they had become partakers of the promises of God and true children of God.  But this new life needed to grow and develop in them so he instructs them ‘if we live in the spirit, let us also walk in the spirit.’  Allow the influence of Christ to work in your lives, for the fruit of the spirit – the work of Christ in us – is ‘love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.’  The work of the spirit, the whole character of the Lord, is the true quality of life in Christ – and this is true freedom.

Let this mind be in you 

To the Philippians also, his converts from his second missionary journey, he writes with warm and loving concern.  These people he knew well.  They were his joy and crown.  His letter, full of rejoicing and thankfulness, contains as well a sensitively and beautifully expressed rebuke.  We know something of the members of this church –  Lydia and her household, the gaoler and his family, Euodias and Syntyche.  Was there in fact some social rift?  ‘Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory, but in lowliness of mind, let each esteem other better than themselves.’  Does this reflect a problem which leads Paul to a self-confession of his own humility and self-giving, that ‘he might be found, not having his own righteousness but that which is through the faith of Christ’?  For he had counted all his assets as worthless to win Christ.  The supreme lesson of this letter is the example of Christ Jesus, who totally poured himself out to the glory of God.  So now that spirit of humility in Christ is the power which ‘God works in you both to will and to do of His good pleasure.’  This creative activity, this spirit of Christ, is the transforming experience in the hearts and minds of his people; it is not of their merit or desert.  They can only receive this humbling gift through their acknowledgement of need and faithful acceptance.
Ye are the temple of God

‘And the spirit of God dwells in you.’  So writes Paul to the Corinthians, in response to reports he has received from this city, where he had lived and taught for eighteen months – a city full of diversity, cosmopolitan, a busy centre of trade, commerce and industry, with an ancient culture and a reputation for immorality and social division.  And it is this problem of division and divisiveness upon which the apostle concentrates his attention.  How could a community made up of such diverse elements work together – strict Jewish adherents, educated Greeks and converts, we may say, from the streets, for ‘such were some of you.’?  With supreme genius and spiritual guidance Paul shows that such diversity is in fact God’s blessing.  They are all members of the body of Christ, a body which needs parts of different kinds and functions; ‘for there are diversities of gifts but the same spirit.’ God manifests Himself in countless ways to enrich His creation, but the ultimate work is to create a corporate body of people moulded into the perfect image of Christ.  So all may be endowed by God through the spirit with his or her special gift to enrich the temple of God.  There are gifts of many kinds and suited to different occasions; but the greatest gift is that of love.

From glory to glory

The Corinthians however had much more to learn and so had Paul, through their initial rejection of him and their later repentance.  So he acknowledges we all have much to learn.  The work of the Lord, transforming us into his image, if we behold his glory, as in a glass, changes us by his spirit, gradually, slowly, bit by bit, ‘For God has shined in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of the Lord in the face of Jesus Christ.’  And this is the transforming spirit of Christ.  Paul’s confession of all his sufferings for the Gospel is concluded by the acknowledgement that ‘he that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.’  It is the work of Christ in him for, ‘My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength is made perfect in weakness.’  The Christian life is not human effort or virtue, but allowing God to work to His glory.
More than conquerors

In writing to the church in Rome in anticipation of his intended visit Paul lays before them his Christian manifesto – the gospel of Christ – the power of God unto salvation – redemption through faith in Christ and confirmed through the waters of baptism, whereby ‘the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Spirit which is given unto us.’ The consummation of his argument is his powerful exegesis of the experience of living the true Christian life in chapter 8.  He recognises the toils and travails, the sufferings of the present, the groanings of the whole of creation, the inability of knowing how to pray, the acknowledgement of weakness, infirmity and distress as well as persecution and opposition.  This is the reality of life in Christ as Paul well knew it.  But this is a triumphant chapter, filled with the knowledge and experience of God’s help, support, intercession through the spirit and the unfailing comfort and assurance of His presence and love.  There is a hope for the future but more relevantly a knowledge that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus Our Lord, if the spirit of Him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwell in us.  He is with us and in us and, if we will, he can work through us to His glory.  ‘For as many as are led by the spirit of God, are the sons of God.’

Christ in you the hope of glory

To Paul, awaiting trial in Rome, the news from the various Christian communities, brought comfort, relief and thankfulness for their faithfulness and good works, as it did from Colosse at the hands of Epaphras.  In spite of his tribulations, Paul’s spirit was in no way daunted, his faith in Christ still as strong and his love for others unchanged.  In fact he rejoices in his sufferings which he says ‘fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh for his body’s sake which is the church.’  Now when he is threatened with death, he unfolds the mystery now made manifest – ‘that is the riches of His glory among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.’ – the indwelling Christ, the supreme power in his life.  And for the Ephesians he prays to God that they might ‘be strengthened with might by his Spirit in the inner man; that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; . . . and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God. Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, . . . .’
‘Faithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it.’ (1 Thess 5.24.)

The wind bloweth where it listeth

‘And ye cannot tell whence it cometh and whither it goeth.’  Such is the mighty mystery of God’s breath, beyond imagining and comprehension, in creation, in nature, in fire, wind and storm, in the parting of the waters, the fire of Carmel, in priests and prophets, in Jesus’ birth, his authority over wind and sea, paralytic and demoniac, the rushing flame at Pentecost and the supreme triumph of resurrection.  This is still the same creative breath of God in the hearts and minds of those who will listen to the still, small voice and allow Him to work.  ‘For it is he that worketh in you both to will and to do of His good pleasure.’  In Jesus this power has been granted to those who have faith and it breathes with the love, compassion and human warmth with which he touched the leper, raised Lazarus and restored the widow’s son.

Do not hold me

As Mary sought in love to cling to the physical body of Jesus, the pain of parting, the grief of bereavement, the sadness of loss was transformed into the challenge of faith and the dynamic of service – ‘Go to my brethren and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ –  and she went in the assurance of the risen Lord, still present in the life, work and mission of his disciples through the ages – for the work goes on – . . . .

Sheila Harris

December 2000 

The Lord a gift of love foretold:
	‘Hath sorrow filled your heart?
A Comforter to you I send
	If I depart.’

‘Your sorrow shall be turned to joy,
	Your anxious fears made still,
When God’s own power, and strength and love
	Your heart shall fill.’

‘When he, the Comforter, is come, 
	All truth you then shall know.  
The words I spake he shall recall, 
	The future show.’

‘Keep my commands; be not afraid, 
	Your anxious cares release.
My Father waits in heaven; with you
 	I leave my peace.’

O God of comfort, power and love, 
	Teach us to trust in Thee,
That Jesus of our restless hearts 
	The peace may be.

Catherine Morgan and Edith Ladson 
 (Hymn 125)

Some helpful literature:
Donald Coggan	Meet Paul, Triangle, SPCK, 1998.
James D. G. Dunn	Unity & Diversity in the New Testament, SCM.
Morna Hooker 	The Message of Mark, Epworth, 1983.
E.P. Sanders	Jesus and Judaism, SCM, 1985.
Tom Wright	What Saint Paul Really Said, Lion, 1997.
N. T. Wright	The Challenge of Jesus, SPCK, 2000.