shamed: GHOSTED
‘For here is the way God so loved the world—He gave His only unique Son as a gift.’ (John 3:16a, TPT)
April 20th, 2022
FOOL-ish, i.e. lacking judgement or sense; ill-considered; unwise; preposterous; thoughtless; reckless; absurd; idiotic.
1 Corinthians 1:18: For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved, it is the power of God.’ (NKJV)
When I finally met and fell in love with Jesus for real, the Bible came alive to me. It is like reading a novel, a classic and a self-help book as well as a non-fiction literary masterpiece, memoir and biography, all rolled into one storybook. I do not mean that in a disrespectful manner, but just the opposite. I am enthralled by God’s Word. I am amazed by all the intricate details woven together to become the greatest story of all time. It is fascinating to me. The characters in the Bible are comedians at times and sometimes they are historians, and at times it is heartbreaking, and I cry, and other times, I hold my breath, waiting to see if it turns out differently this time around when I reread a chapter. I am encouraged and I strive to learn from it, to do better having spent time in the Scriptures, and there are other times when it is convicting and unbelievable and unfathomable, and I fit right in, right there with the Davids and the Peters and the Mary Magdalenes of Biblical times. But more than anything else, it is the most timeless love story ever told.
The Disciples have become my friends and I feel like I know them personally. I also know other characters in the Old Testament as well as the New Testament. Like I think I would have made friends with the Samaritan woman and Mary Magdalene. I too have so much to be grateful for, and what the Lord has done for me is worth far more than a year’s wages and an alabaster jar of pure Nard. I would want to have sat at David’s feet, while he dipped his pen in the praises that appeared on his parchment paper while wiping the tears and remorse from his lips. I wish to know Abraham as I really want him to tell me in his words what it was like to lay his son on the altar, something I don’t think I could ever do. Rahab and I might have been friends, and I would love to have spoken words of calm and freedom over the demon-possessed man as he terrorized the graveyards. I could have been the person who helped tear through the son’s inheritance, and I might have stumbled all the way back to the Father alongside the Prodigal Son, choking on the dusty road and on the speech he intended to deliver when he arrived at the feet of his Father.
But the disciples, now, I feel I know them really well. They make me laugh and they have made me cry; more than anything, they make me feel. Like if there is hope for them, then there is hope for me too. Even Judas. Part of me thinks I will see him in Heaven someday. I know of the grace that saved me, and I think there must be grace that saved him too. After all, he was a means to an end, and the entire redemption story doesn’t happen if there isn’t a Judas. Does that mean then that there isn’t a redemption story if Michelle isn’t written into it? And what about you too? We are not necessary and vital to God’s Plan to redeem mankind—or are we? What about the people who you have shared Jesus with, and in turn, the people they have shared Jesus with—doesn’t that mean we are essential to a holy God’s Plan for Salvation? If we do our part, that is.
But I snicker on this windy, dirt-caked and forlorn day, as they—minus Judas and Thomas—huddle in an upper room with the shades drawn and the door locked tight. I imagine them whispering, fearful they might be heard, afraid of the very truth Peter denied three times in a very short period of time—that they were associated with Jesus of Nazareth, scared the Jewish leaders were gunning for them. It is ironic that Peter who wept so bitterly of his betrayal of Jesus just several days before isn’t berating them and chastising his teammates for not standing up bravely and denouncing the demon of dread and despair, casting it far from them, outside the walls of their hiding place. For all Jesus taught them in His ministry and time with them for three years, now not any of it is retained and being enacted upon or acted out. They are not following His commands nor doing as He bid them to do. They are huddled and hiding and afraid.
At once, it says in the Bible, Jesus stood among them. This isn’t the first ghost appearance. In the various versions of Scripture I wandered through, not one of them says He knocked at the door or asked their permission to come in. What this tells me is Jesus materialized in their midst. He wasn’t there. And now He is. They are hunkered down together, likely commiserating with one another, and suddenly, He is among them. Can you imagine the shock and fear and angst initially that would have imbibed in fearful men? I imagine it is much like the night He came to them, walking on the water. This time He walked through a wall. They are overjoyed when they realize it is Him, as He shows them His open wounds and nail-scarred palms—just as they were mesmerized when He stepped into their boat and filled their nets
I thought, when I first read this story, how fool-ish for these men to be in hiding instead of out looking for where Jesus might be teaching at, because, after all, it has been three days, and He promised He would return on the third day. But I realized it actually is my fool-ishness I overlooked. He didn’t have to knock at their door and ask to be let in because they knew Him well, and He knew them well. They are true friends. Until we know someone well, we never just let ourselves into their space, right? We have to be invited in, and let’s face it, we have to have a great deal of trust in someone to let that person have a key, right? just to let themselves in, unannounced, unexpected, but welcomed all the same. And, the second thing I realized, He knew right where they were; He knew where to go to find them. He always knows right where to find me too, and that’s where He shows up, often, unannounced, unexpected, just when I need Him. When I need Him to remind me Who He is and who I am in Him. When I need Him to set all the records straight; when He lets me see the scars on His palms so I can remember all He did for me on Calvary, for now through eternity; when I need Him to simply show up for me, walking on my empty dreams, walking through my walls, walking with me into forever.
John 14:16-18, ‘”And I will pray the Father, and He will give you another Helper, that He may abide with you forever—the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees Him nor knows Him, but you know Him, for He dwells with you and will be in you. I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.”’ (NKJV)
John 3:16b, ‘SOW NOW: whoever believes in Him will never perish, but experience everlasting life.’ (TPT)
