The glory of a King

"This is Jesus... In His glory... King of heaven, dying for me" - Tim Hughes, in the song See His Love

I recall, not so long ago, watching a Chinese TV drama based on the life of the first emperor of the Han dynasty, Liu Bang (Chinese 刘邦). Like most TV drama series based on historical personalities, it greatly dramatised and elaborated on actual events and legends. Anyway, there was one episode that showed the great emperor in one of his most spectacular defeats early on in his military career. All his 500,000 soldiers had been killed in battle, and he himself had been pursued. His wife and two children had fled (or been captured, I can't remember which), and the only man with him was one of his personal body guards, a young man of about 20.

In the story, the young bodyguard protected the king through enemy lines, and fled with him until they were on a mountain, until he could not go any further. He revealed that he had 2 or 3 arrows in his back, and now that he was dying, his only regret was that he could protect the king no longer.

The king held the dying young man in his arms, and looked down the mountain at the landscape strewn with the bloodied bodies of his 500,000 men.

"Their blood is on my hands," the king cried, "your blood is on my hands. What kind of king am I? All who follow me are dead, how will I ever face the world again?"

"No. Your majesty, you are not a failure." the young man said with his last breath. "Look around - all these 500,000 died for you, for your glory. Look around, this is your glory."

I remembered this scene today when I was at our Easter service today. This is the story of a king, whose glory is shown in the 500,000 men who were willing to die for him... the complete opposite of the story of Easter, where the glory of the king is that he was willing to die for his subjects.

The glory, the power, and the kingdom, for ever. Does a king ever die for his subjects? Does the death of a king ever get termed glorious? What kind of king dies for his subjects? A king who loves his subjects more than his pride or glory. And God knows we don't deserve it.

Crucifying Christ

Imagine... imagine that it is AD33, the week preceding Passover.

You are a devout Jewish pilgrim, celebrating the feast in Jerusalem. The city is crowded at this time of the year - not only with people, but with animals and carts. By the side of the streets there are merchants and peddlers, advertising their goods above the noise of the crowd, trying to take advantage of this busy season. Looming somewhere in the background are Roman soldiers, on their guard against disturbances and possible revolts. Their presence remind you that the holy city is under occupation, and the survival of your race is an act of lenience from Caesar.

Down the street you hear a hubbub - people of all shapes and sizes were singing and shouting and waving palm branches. It was a procession of some sort, and in the middle of the crowd was a man seated on a donkey. This was the famous teacher from Nazareth, charismatic and gentle, and yet with the authority to rebuke demons and raise the dead. There was even talk that he was the Messiah... You'd heard about this man, and along with everyone else on the street, you rush forward and crane your neck for a closer look. The procession and the crowd had the Roman guards looking at each other with anxious faces, but they needn't have worried - for as you craned your neck, you notice the strange man was weeping. You don't catch everything he muttered, but you hear the words "they will dash you to the ground." With these bleak words, you wonder how he could be the messiah.

Over the next few days, you take care to come and listen to this teacher, this radical - and his teachings left you feeling disillusioned. First he went to the temple and overturned tables and benches, then he kept talking in parables, some of which did not make logical sense. How could a king ever invite beggars to a wedding banquet? How could two small copper coins offered into the temple treasury (by some widow) ever be "more" than the vast riches donated by others? He condensed all the laws and prophets into two sentences, insulted the Pharisees and teachers of the law, and referred to the Almighty God of Abraham as Daddy. Most alarming of all was this allegation to be the Messiah. This fleshly man, impoverished, ever under the watchful eyes of the Roman officers, preaching his messages of sacrifice and meekness - how could he save your nation? Where was his army? Where is his power? He said the Kingdom of Heaven was near - but all you could see around him were his disciples (an unlikely team of fishermen and tax collectors) and the outcasts of society (the lepers, the disabled, and the "sinners"). This is not the messiah you and your people have imagined and hoped for, this meek earthly creature could not be the Son of God or indeed the Son of Man. You refuse to believe it, and anyone who stated otherwise was blasphemous, insulting both your traditions and your God.

This blog post is getting long and wordy, so I'll end my narrative there. I think everyone knows what happened next - the teacher from Nazareth was betrayed by one of his disciples, imprisoned, denied by another disciple, and crucified. He was blameless, but he died for our sins, he died because of our sins.

I'd always thought that if I were there, I'd be different. Why did they crucify him? Why did Judas betray him? How could Peter deny him? How could the crowd turn their back on him so fast? And how could Pilate wash his hands of the whole matter with a clean conscience? I always thought the story was strange, for I would have never done those things, and neither would most of my friends.

But now that I think of it - who was I to be judgemental of the Pharisees, or Judas, or Peter? If I were in their positions, would I have been more righteous, more faithful, more wise? If I had been in their shoes, if I was in Jerusalem in AD33, I might well have thought what they thought, felt what they felt, and done what they did. I might have been one of those who threw stones at him, who sneered at him, who dared him to come off the cross. If I were there, I might well have crucified Christ.

What happened that day, when Jesus was crucified, was not one man's destruction and betrayal brought about by a few men who sinned. No, because that man was not any man, and because we all have the capacity in us, the nature in us, to do what those sinners did. And thus, the Son of God was pinned to our torture device, and we pinned our sins on to him.

Today, we can not gloat at those sinners of AD33 - because their sins live on, in each one of us. People continue to proudly refuse to recognise Christ, like the Pharisees of old. People see but do not accept, like Judas, and like Peter, people lose sight, lose faith, and lose courage. In fact, Hebrews 6:4-6 gives us the frightening scenario of us crucifying Christ all over again.

In spite of the timelessness and universality of our sins, we find hope in the Lamb that we crucified. With his last breaths he prayed for our forgiveness, and even more wondrously and mercifully, he came back to us (no post-traumatic stress disorder there!). He came back to his disciples to reinstate them, with outstretched arms he forgave all wrongs and cleansed all stains. He knows what we did, how much we hurt him. Yet his hand reaches down, offering to us more than we could ever deserve or imagine.

MSN-less

Damn, my mentor was right. Giving up MSN was certainly not a very practical idea. I've just been trying to arrange a meeting time with my first years, and it is so much more difficult to do it via email. Not only that, giving up MSN means that I have no contact with my friends... so that when I do see them, I have verbal diarrhoea, and can't stop talking... ("my first years ask all these hard questions... tropical diseases are so interesting... I nearly cried when I looked up google images of marasmus...")

Of course, the stubborn part of me says: but it's only been one week, there is not that long left to go, are you going to stop now, you quitter? .... But of course, that's just me being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn, the original high and lofty ideas of Lent are gone out the window... in the process of seeking, the goal is lost.

So he was right. Why is he always right? Of course, mentors are supposed to be always right, but not when I disagree with them... lol

Lent

I was driving to church today when I heard on the radio a woman briefly mention Lent in her message. She said that she was giving up bread during the period of Lent, and each time she reaches for bread she thinks about Jesus. I guess it succeeds in reminding her to keep God on her mind throughout the day, but my scientific mind couldn't help but tick over and wonder about her carbohydrate and fibre intake during these 40 days.

I didn't actually know anything about Lent before I heard this radio message, except once I read in a novel a character pondered whether it was appropriate to enjoy chocolate during Lent. I looked it up once I got home from church - basically it is supposed to emanate the forty days Jesus spent in the desert. Christians thus attempt to put themselves into a sort of "wilderness", where time is spent in reflection, soul-searching, fasting, and prayer. It is supposed to be a time when you rededicate yourself, and, I suppose, clear your life of worldly clutter.

While seated in church, I wondered what I give up during Lent, mainly as an experiment. Perhaps caffeine? No, no way. I thought of a few other things (sugar, chocolate, rice) but finally I came up with the answer - MSN instant messenger. MSN has become part of my daily life - I log on when I switch on my computer (and I switch it on as soon as I get home or more or less when I get up), and I leave it running while I study. There are times when I would come home from bible-study, exhausted but with every intention to do squeeze another hour or so of productive study into the evening, only to spend it procrastinating on MSN. The thing about MSN is that if you leave it running in the background, you check periodically to see who is online and chatting to your friends always seem more interesting than haematopoietic proliferative disorders. If I give up MSN - imagine! My study will be so much more efficient - more time for my family, my friends, and my God!

I was actually quite proud of my idea, which I announced to my mentor while lining up to receive communion. I was expecting some delight and congratulations; I was quite miffed to find that he seemed to think the idea ridiculous.

"Can't you do something practical?" he said, somewhat icily. "Give up chocolate or something. You will be isolated, you'll loose touch with everyone, and everyone will forget about you." With that, he turned his back to me. I didn't pursue the issue further: you weren't supposed to talk when receiving communion and his parents (his father is one of our pastors) were right behind us.

Now that I think about it, I can sort of see his point. It seems like a frivolous gesture, without practical application (he doesn't know how much it interferes with my work I guess) -- self-punishment for the sake of it. He is very much against self-punishment and Christians denying themselves of joy for no good reason. Why give up bread, when it is the staple of the Western diet? How else are you going to get the carbohydrate and fibre - eat cereal at every meal? Jesus may have experienced forty days in the wilderness, but the gospels of Matthew and Luke describes him being lead by the Spirit into the desert. In our lives we often enough go through trials and temptation - there seems little need to walk into it ourselves.

While I do not think that giving up a staple food is necessarily a good idea, the general concept, I find, is commendable - because isn't discipline also one of the Christian values? If I can not resist the temptation to log on to MSN (and see if my mentor is online, and debate with him about this issue), then how will I face the much greater temptations? If I can discipline myself to do the trivial, surely the meaningful will also come easier. Naturally, it would be ideal if I prayed and reflected and meditated without needing to discipline myself to do it. But the fact is that I am flesh, and if I do as I wished, it would most likely not be the right thing.

Of course, the topic has now moved away from Lent, to discipline and self-denial. Lent, we are told, is much more than the giving up of your favourite food. It is a sort of isolation away from the distractions of this world so that you can reflect and look toward God and the joy and peace that comes from looking toward God. That sounds even better - although of course how well it works is another matter. Like the character in the novel, one can easily turn to think of Lent as something to endure rather than enjoy - a time when chocolate seems inappropriate and one is supposed to live in solemn austerity. As much as God delights in us spending personal time with him, I'm sure we are supposed to do it because we like it, not because it's Lent and that's what one is expected to do during Lent.

While I'm not sure how good I will be at praying and reflecting, I will try my best to avoid MSN until Easter (I was quite embarrassed to find, after I looked it up when I got home, that Lent has already started, on the 8th of February). I'm not sure how well it will work - the temptation is very great right now, and perhaps sometime mid-week I'll come up with some excuse to log in. Perhaps, with all the time that I will now save, I can read more bible and reflect more.

Unless, of course, I spend the time blogging, like I am doing now. Sigh.

My testimony - epilogue

I just got home from church - I gave my testimony today.

It was horrible. I don't think I make a very good public speaker at all. I umm'd and ahh'd and went too fast and skipped over bits that I probably shouldn't have. I think I was in too much of a hurry to leave the stage.

Some others, at the end of their testimony, had a "closing message", like the moral of the story or something. I didn't really - I just told my story and said "that's all" and squirmed.

But I guess that's all I needed, to tell my story. The bible tells a story of a man born blind, who was healed by Jesus. Some told him that he couldn't have been healed by a sinner, but the man said: "Whether he is a sinner or not, I do not know. One thing I do know - I was blind but now I see!" - the most powerful tool he had was not carefully planned arguments or theories but the plain truth of his experiences.

Maybe I should have got up there, and said: "I was blind, but now I see!"... then sit down again. Would probably have been better than the waffle of incoherent crap that came out of my mouth, haha.

O well. Maybe it will mean they won't make me do it again.