Night of the Living Dead
“Jesus called in a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!’ The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.” (John 11:43)
I’m writing this the day before Halloween. Don’t worry. This isn’t going to be a research paper on the pagan history of the “devil’s holiday.” I’m not going to treat you to a telling of how the Jack o’ Lantern got its name or tales of the murderous early days of “All Hallow’s Eve.” I think you should hear about those things and decide what you’ll do with Halloween, but that’s not why we’re here.
Whether you’re a total abstainer from Halloween festivities or someone who digs all the dressing up and spookiness (and candy!) that comes with October 31, the holiday has become a fact of life in this country. You don’t have to participate to be surrounded by it. All your favorite TV shows seem to have special Halloween-flavored episodes. The kids canvasing your hood for candy are undeniably cute in their costumes. And every store is pitching little bags of M&Ms and “spook-tacular savings” at you. The day is part of our culture.
I think it’s a great day to remember a moment in Jesus’ life on earth when he showed God’s frightening power over death. If this story were told by some Hollywood filmmakers, it would be shot with lots of spooky effects (cue the ground fog), creepy sadness, and frighteningly ominous music. For some reason, we don’t usually read it that way. If we did, we might have a much healthier fear of our all-powerful God.
Jesus’ good friend Lazarus was seriously sick. Sick enough for his sisters Mary and Martha to risk sending a message to Jesus to let Him know about it. I say risk, because Jesus was a wanted man in the greater Jerusalem metroplex where these siblings lived. Last time He was there, the local religious leaders tried to stone Him to death. For Him to show up there might very well get Him killed. They knew that, but they loved their brother. So they risked exposing Jesus’ location and drawing Him back into the danger zone to ask the healer to come.
After getting the news, the disciples noticed that Jesus started acting strangely. First, he said Lazarus’ sickness would not “end in the death,” but that God and God’s Son would be glorified by it. (v. 4) Okay. Then Jesus just hung out where He was for two days without saying anything about it. Then, suddenly, He said He was go wake Lazarus up, even though Lazarus was already dead and even though it might get them all killed.
They’d heard Jesus say lots of things they couldn’t explain, but this one made less sense to them: risk all of their lives to go back when it was already too late to heal Lazarus. Did Jesus want to die?
It made even less sense when they got to town two days later. First, Jesus and Martha traded confusing words about “resurrection.” Was He seriously going to bring Lazarus back to life? If so, why did He cry so hard when He saw Mary and the others weeping over their dead friend? Why didn’t He answer more clearly when everyone kept saying He could have saved Lazarus if He hadn’t showed up so late?
When the emotional Jesus told them to remove the stone to the grave, Martha brought up a good point. Her brother had be decomposing for four days. Jesus missed the burial. This was going to be gross. But He asked her one of His hard questions, and they did what He said. (vv. 40-41)
Did you just get a little chill? I did.
Then Jesus prayed out loud for everyone to hear: “Father, I thank you that you have heard me.” Had He said something to God? Did they miss it? “I know that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.” Oh.
Then he called out like He was talking to the open grave: “Lazarus, come out!”
I don’t know about the disciples, but I would have been freaked out. I wonder if any of them covered their eyes or got a sick feeling in the pit of their stomach. Was it joyful anticipation? Was it fearful dread? Was it both? No matter how sad you feel about someone dying, it’s got to be creepy to see him come hopping out wrapped in his burial clothes like something out of a nightmare. (I wonder if anyone screamed.) But it wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. It was impossible. It changed all the rules. If Jesus could do this . . .
I wonder if they looked at their friend and teacher in a way they never had before. I would have.
Did they hold their breath as the dead man was unwrapped? But Lazarus was just fine. He wasn’t a ghost or a zombie or a demon. He was simply alive.
Now Jesus had everyone’s full attention. You don’t mess around with someone who can raise the dead. You might fear Him a little, but you also believe what He says. Many of them did. I do.
Imagine that scene multiplied over and over on the night Jesus died (three days before He exited His own tomb): “The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus’ resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.” (Matthew 27:52-53)
Talk about spooky! Talk about getting right with God if you were one of the people yelling “Crucify Him!” and then when He dies your dead uncle Joe comes over for lunch! Talk about you and me getting right with the one who has real power over real death and life this Halloween.
This year, I’m not going to be afraid of any of the little monsters that come to my door or even of the very real demons in the world who prowl around with Satan looking for people to devour. I mean, I’ll keep my distance, but I’m saving my healthy fear for the one who loves me—and who can really raise the dead.
“The one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.” (1 John 4:4)
“When I am afraid, I will trust in you.” (Psalm 53:6)
“Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies.’ ” (John 11:25)
PlanetWisdom Student Conference
Get in the Game
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”
Have you ever been to a homecoming game where the home team lost? Where they lost bad? Have you ever been to a homecoming game where they had a big ceremony before the game to honor a former team of the school that once won the championship? All the members of that team march out on the field and the crowd goes crazy, remembering what a great season that was.
How terrible for the current players at the game if their current team loses—especially if they just get creamed by a team they should be able to beat. It’s more embarrassing because it’s in front of the guys who won it all back in the day. You just imagine them making jokes about you from their honored spot in the stands. You really wish you would have done them proud.
In today’s passage, the writer of Hebrews urges us readers to have some team pride. Not the ugly pride of living for our own glory, but the good kind of pride of carrying on a great thing that others have started. If you get a chance to read the previous chapter, 11, you’ll see all the names in the so-called Hall of Faith—the champions of trusting God who made a mark for Him in their generation.
Now it’s your turn. You’re surrounded by the glory of all the former champions who believed God in victory and trusted Him in horrible death. Are you ready? Are you in the contest? Do you have your game face on? Are you taking trusting God as seriously as they did?
The point isn’t really to make them proud of you; it’s to live up to their example. Every year, new records are broken in every sport. Why? Because somebody proved it could be done. Someone showed what was possible. The heroes of the faith in the Bible—and the heroes of trusting God in your church and family and community—have proved that it is possible to trust Him through devastating days. They’ve set a high bar for what can be done with just one person’s influence and availability to God.
Are you and I even suited up to play? Or are we still stuck thinking of Abraham and Moses and Joshua as Sunday School characters? Do we come to church to sit in the bleachers and eat Skittles and hang out with our friends—or do we want to be in the game? Do we want the ball?
If you’re ready to play, the writer of this passage gets in our faces about what we’ve got to do before anything else—get rid of everything that will slow you down. Take off your street clothes. Nobody runs the 100-meter in jeans and sandals—not if she’s serious about competing in the race. Nobody shows up to play in a big basketball game wearing a snowsuit and gloves.
Throw those things away and get serious, the writer says.
So what’s slowing you down in your race to trust God and do what’s He’s called you to do? What distractions are eating up so much of your time and attention that you’ll never be able to get serious about living like Jesus? Distractions don’t have to be sinful things; they’re just things that are less important that what really, truly matters.
What sins are you wearing like some kind of long, tight skirt you’ll never be able to run fast in? Jealousy tripping you up? Lust? Lies? Disobeying your parents? You can’t take those things into the game with you—not if you really want to win. The writer says “throw them off,” ditch them, leave them by the bench and get on the field.
You don’t have time for that stuff if you’re going to compete like a champion.
Are you ready to get in the game?
PlanetWisdom Student Conference
How to Believe a Lie
The record of the first temptation and sin in Genesis 3:1-7 contains a truckload of lessons for us about defending ourselves against the lies that make it so much easier to sin. Let’s unload a few of them.
Questions Can Lie
Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?” (v. 1)
The crafty serpent got past Eve’s defenses with an innocent-sounding question: “Did God really say . . .?” How often do we begin a conversation with temptation by asking (or responding to) and innocent-sounding question?
“Would a reasonable God really expect me to forgive someone for THIS?”
“Does the Bible really say that sex before marriage is wrong?”
“It’s not gossip if I really care about the person, is it?”
Get It Right
The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’ ” (vv. 2-3)
Eve did what we do so often. She responded to the innocent-sounding question with wrong information. God did not say, “Don’t touch the fruit.” It seems like a little thing—and, sure, she would have been better off not touching the fruit—but when you’re talking about God’s Word and God’s character, the details matter.
If you’re tempted by an innocent-sounding question, make sure you go and find a trustworthy answer to that question.
Lies Come Wrapped in Truth
“You will not surely die,” the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” (vv. 4-5)
The serpent follows with a mix of lies and truth to make the lies more persuasive.
Lie: “You will not surely die.” Truth: Eve did not die physically in that instant, but she did die spiritually. And she eventually died physically.
Truth: “God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened . . .” Adam and Eve would see reality in a new (quite painful) way.
Lie: “. . . and you will be like God . . .” Truth: The God of the universe is not defined by knowing good and evil. An awareness of evil does not give us God’s power, love, wisdom, or goodness.
Truth: “. . . knowing good and evil.” Adam and Eve would come to know evil by doing it. But it wouldn’t make them more powerful. In fact, it made them quite pitiful and fearful and weak.
Believing Lies = Not Believing God
When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. (v. 6)
Eve knew what God had said about the tree. She even added to His instruction. In order to believe the serpent’s lie she had to make a choice to stop believing that God and His command were trustworthy.
Eve saw: the fruit is good for food (true); the fruit is pretty (true); the fruit will make us wise (false). The serpent convinced the woman that the path to wisdom went around God’s instructions to her—that you can’t have the real wisdom if you do it God’s way.
The truth is exactly the opposite. Gaining wisdom starts with deciding that God is right and good and trustworthy. Or to put it as Proverbs does: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”
Sin Spreads Pain
She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves. (vv. 6-7)
Eve made the choice, but the consequences didn’t stop with her. Adam followed her lead and disbelieved God, as well. Their choice brought death to the world, and we’re still dying.
My sin. Your sin. Our choices to give into to temptation and disbelieve God’s trustworthiness always leads to painful consequences. And those consequences always spread beyond just us. Our sin hurts those closest to us. Either we lead others into sin after us—or the results of it diminishes our relationships with those God means for us to show His love.
So what’s the best defense against the lies that make sin look sweeter?
1. Know the truth. Install God’s Word in your head; then let it soak all the way down into your heart and come out through your mouth, hands, and feet. It’s harder to lie to someone who knows, loves, and lives the truth.
2. Trust the truthful one. God cannot lie. Jesus called Himself “the Truth.” Remember that to believe any lie about sin, you’ll have to stop believing something true about God. Is He trustworthy?
PlanetWisdom Student Conference
Created to be Creative?
“Now the LORD God had formed out of the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name. So the man gave names to all the livestock, the birds of the air and all the beasts of the field.”
When I was picking a college major, I thought about going into something creative. I was lousy at “art,” but I loved drama, communication, writing. In the end, I just couldn’t bring myself to go that way. None of those majors would have been “practical.” After all, creativity and art are fine, fun, interesting to study—but they’re not essential. Right? I mean, the important things in life are to first, obey God, and second, do something practical to pay the bills.Yeah? And how many people really make a living being creative? So I majored in business and studied psychology.
That turned out fine. Better, maybe, than if I’d studied English or drama or art history. But I was wrong on all counts. Not only did I end up making a career out of “being creative,” I eventually got that we’re all built to be creators, no matter our majors or work in life. A few verses before the passage you see at the top of this page, we’re told, “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.”
The logic is all right there in black-and-white. God created the universe and everything in it. We’re told in several New Testament passages that Jesus was actively involved in creating everything that is, including us. So it just makes sense that people created in the image of a Creator God would be creative people. And not just “creative,” as in good at crafts, but designed to create. We’re intended to imitate God by creating things. (Just for the record: Not saying we’re created to be little gods, but little creators in the mold of the ultimate Creator.)
Look at Adam’s first real task in the garden—before sin, before the fall, before death—God gives Adam a writing assignment. I know my science friends would prefer to think of it as a biology assignment, but I like to call it creative writing. We have no idea what Adam named all of the animals. But he did it all on his own. His job was to create names for God’s creation.
Notice something else. God really dug it. God brought the animals to Adam to “see what he would name them.” God seems to have enjoyed watching Adam express his God-given creativity in his work. There’s no hint here that God secretly planted all the animal names in Adam’s mind and then waited for Adam to spit out the inevitable result. No, we’re told that whatever Adam came up with, “that was the name.” God allowed Adam the authority to fulfill his destiny as a creative person.
Yes, as with everything else, sin corrupted the creative process. After the fall, humans learned to express our total depravity in very creative ways. We applied our imaginations to dreaming up new ways to do evil. Or as Genesis 6:5 puts it, “Every inclination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil all the time.”
But God hasn’t revoked our creative licenses. Along with the rest of our true selves, He is in the process of redeeming His children’s impulse to artfully create beauty and solve problems using the imagination He installed in the original human operating system. In fact, when instructing the Israelites how to properly worship Him, He commanded that whole family groups be assigned full-time as musicians, artisans, and skilled craftsmen in the service of God’s temple. Creative jobs all. David and Solomon command respect for their poetry and writing skills. And Jesus Himself packaged great truths as parables, stories, fiction, creative writing.
No, I’m not suggesting we should all be art and English majors. Most of us aren’t built for that specific creative outlet. But I am saying we should all try on our Father’s shoes: “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children.” (Ephesians 5:1) We should all explore the ways that we can use our imaginations to create something, to solve some problem, to express some old idea in a way that’s brand new in our generation.
Even if you’re a business major.