When Truth Burns a Little

I still get nervous when my kids and campfires are in the same vicinity. When my children were little, I'd be tense because I just knew they'd trip over their awkward little feet and fall right into the glowing coal bed. When they got older, I was less concerned with that and more concerned with how fascinated they'd become with fire. They'd poke the ends of their sticks into the flames, wait until ends were burning brilliantly, and then they'd whip their sticks through the air to write their names in smoky, fiery swirls. At least once, the burning end of one of those sticks snapped off in the whirling and landed on my leg, which immediately raised a large blister and a loud "OW!!" from their mom.

Fire hurts, in case you weren't aware. 

I've been thinking a lot about fire lately, and its effects. Back in October, I had written a blog post about my role in the play The Crucible by Arthur Miller. I explained that I had finally realized after (way too many) years that the definition of a crucible was not -- as I had always thought -- a crucifix, a cross, such as the one we're getting ready to read about in the next chapter of John. A crucible is rather a container used to hold material that has been so melted down that it becomes, quite literally, liquid fire. It's a place where material heats to such an intensity that the elements come apart under a refiner's watchful gaze, and when it reaches that exact temperature where the elements separate, the refiner can then pour out the fire and begin the molding process, the shaping, the hammering, and the remaking.

Today in John 18:19-24, Jesus is inside the house of Annas, father-in-law to Caiaphas the high priest. He's just been arrested, and Peter and another disciple are outside in the courtyard of the house along with a crowd of others. I imagine there's a good bit of chaotic feeling here. Jesus is a fairly public figure, and His arrest will likely have created a bit of a stir.

The high priest starts out by questioning Jesus about His disciples and His ministry, which, to get straight to the point... is illegal. According to the law, in a trial, witnesses are supposed to be brought in first to establish guilt, similar to how our system is supposed to run today: innocent until proven guilty. Jesus should be presumed innocent to start out, and the presence of witnesses should have been required to bespeak Jesus' guilt if guilt there is (clue: there isn't guilt), but even though those witnesses are not there, Jesus is still immediately presumed guilty. However, it's possible that the high priest regards this not as a trial, just as a preliminary inquisition.

Jesus answers the high priest: "I have spoken openly to the world." I have never tried to hide the Truth. "I've always taught in synagogues or at the temple, where all the Jews come together." You've had constant access to the Truth. "I said nothing in secret." The Truth is as plain as that phylactery you've tied around your arm. "Why question Me? Ask those who heard Me. Surely they know what I said."

Apparently, this approach was a little too direct for one of the men standing near Jesus. "When Jesus said this, one of the officials nearby struck Him in the face. 'Is this the way you answer the high priest?' he demanded."

The first blow of the night has been given. Soon there will be a cat-o'-nine-tails and a scourging. There will be a crown of thorns. There will be spikes through wrists and feet. That first slap seems paltry in comparison, but it serves as an opening to the floodgates. 

Jesus says: "If I said something wrong, testify as to what is wrong. But if I spoke the truth, why did you strike Me?"

Truth, like fire, hurts. Why? Because it tends to burn away the comfortable oblivion that we like to pull over our ears when we don't want to hear it. It sizzles right through the flimsy cloth we've put over ourselves for protection, and it sears directly into the nerve centers of our consciences.

Jesus never speaks anything but Truth. He speaks love, compassion, forgiveness. He speaks parables and stories to help people understand big concepts. He speaks in anger (See: the cleansing of the temple), He speaks in rebuke (See: "Get behind Me, Satan!" to Peter), He speaks in conviction ("Go now and leave your life of sin," to the woman caught in adultery). He speaks in a wide variety of ways -- but He always speaks the Truth.

Because He is the Truth. He can't not be Himself.

When He speaks the Truth to the church, it doesn't always feel good. Nope, not even a little bit. I submit, church, that the fiery furnace of Truth -- this unveiling of the rifts in our church -- is going to get hotter before it gets cooler. Why? Because we haven't submitted ourselves fully to the Truth. We're so caught up in chasing rabbit trails (ooh, shiny politics! Ooh, shiny pandemics! Ooh, shiny everything-else-besides-what-we-should-be-focusing-on, which is figuring out how to love each other and work together as a single, cohesive body), that we've forgotten how to function.

We've lost our function, because we've taken our eyes off our Head, which is Christ. And we've looked around at each other and started to point out the flaws we see instead.

I've been carrying a burden for the Bride, the Bride of Christ. I wonder sometimes where those white linen garments are that John mentions in Revelation 19:8: "Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear. (Fine linen stands for the righteous acts of the saints.)" Ouch. 

We've gotten so caught up in finger-pointing, arguing for the sake of arguing, Facebook posts and Twitter posts calling each other out, condemning each other's walk with Christ... 

Look at the church in Acts 2:42-47: "[The church] devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together on Facebook... oh, sorry... in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate separately... I mean... together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved." 

I'm not knocking pandemic restrictions; I get that safety measures are important. But we have allowed social distancing to turn into spiritual distancing in many respects, and we need to stop that. We are called to be one body of believers.

Jesus led with love, compassion, humility, servanthood, wisdom, and Truth. So when He says: 'Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,' I don't think He was kidding. When He says: 'If you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you,' He was telling the Truth. And when He tells us to "go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you,' He meant what He said.

So Fingers, stop pointing at the Toes and telling them to be Fingers. Elbow, stop digging into the Knee and telling it to be an Elbow. The Knee wouldn't do a very good job of being an Elbow, any more than an Elbow would do a good job of being a Knee.

Keep our eyes on the Head, that is Christ, and all the rest of the body will work out its quirks. That's the Truth.