Tag Archives: Charles Wesley

Ravi Z

In the first chapter of John a theme begins which John will carry throughout his entire testimony. We read, “The next day, John saw Jesus coming toward him and he said, ‘Look, the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.’” What John is saying here and will say again and again is “Look! Look at Jesus.” In fact, he goes on to use this word fifteen times in his gospel. In the King James Version, it is translated emphatically, “Behold!” Interwoven throughout his stories of the life of Jesus, John repeatedly seems to stop and point his finger to make sure we hearers are getting it: “Look at this. Look at Jesus. This is astonishing. This is amazing. This is mind-blowing. Will you behold?” It is an appropriate question to hold before us as we take in the events of Easter: What are you looking at?

In one of my favorite hymns, Charles Wesley writes in his final verse, “Happy, if with my latest breath I might but gasp his name, preach him to all and cry in death, ‘Behold, behold the lamb.’” An account of Charles Wesley’s death tells us that that is exactly what happened. As he lay dying, he said those words, ‘Behold the lamb,’ and then went to be with the Lord. What is it that you are beholding? John wants to make sure we heed the call to look at Jesus.

In his gospel, John then goes on to give us several signs that tell us something of who and what this Jesus really is. Out of the many miracles that Jesus performed in his ministry, John deliberately chooses seven in order to give us a very particular perspective. The first miracle he recounts is the miracle at the wedding in Cana where Jesus takes ceremonial washing jars filled with water and astonishingly turns the water the red. Choosing this miracle, John shows us a sign of what Jesus has come to do. He has come to wash us, to give his red blood as a gift that we might be purified. John wants us to behold Jesus as the one who comes to bring atonement.

In the second and third miracles John offers are the signs of miraculous healing. In chapter 4, Jesus heals the son of a man in the royal household of Herod. As this man’s son lay dying miles away at home, he begs Jesus to heal him. And right there, Jesus pronounces the words, “Your son will live.” In chapter 5, Jesus heals the man at the pool of Bethesda, literally “the house of mercy,” where the man had come for years hoping for healing but could never attain it on his own. Into this man’s despair Jesus comes and simply tells him, “Pick up your mat and walk.” In both of these miracles, we find the healing Jesus offers reaching far beyond the private corners of faith and into the very public realms of reality.

In the fourth miracle John chooses, we are shown a picture of the abundance in the very person of Christ. In John chapter 6, Jesus feeds a crowd of five thousand by dramatically multiplying the loaves and fish. We are left with a picture of mind-blowing abundance, the Son of God demonstrating the fullness of God in the person of Jesus Christ. Also in chapter 6, the fifth miracle shows Jesus walking on water in the midst of a storm. The disciples are terrified, but Jesus gives them an extraordinary look at his authority, not only over the elements, but over all that would cause fear. Here, he says to them, “It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

In the sixth and seventh miracles John offers, we are given even further reason to thoroughly behold the person of Christ. In chapter 9, Jesus heals a man born blind and we literally see darkness illuminated by the Son of God. Here, John gives us another sign of what Jesus has come to do. Christ has come into a dark and broken and needy world, and he is the light of the world who shines in the darkness. Finally, in the seventh miracle, John gives us a picture of all that is to come in Christ. In the raising of Lazarus, Jesus demonstrates his authority over death itself. It is a sign of his impending resurrection, a sign of the resurrection to come.

Thus the question remains: Will you behold the lamb of God? John wants to make sure we see clearly the one who brings atonement, who shows mercy, who brings healing, who has authority, the one who tells us not to fear, the one who is abundant, the one who illuminates a darkened world and literally opens the eyes of the blind, the one who has power even over death itself. It is Christ. It is this Jesus who we do well to be looking at. Will you behold?

Amy Orr-Ewing is director of programmes for the Oxford Centre for Christian Apologetics and UK director for Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Oxford, England.

Our Daily Bread — Gentle Jesus

Our Daily Bread

Matthew 18:1-10

Unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven. —Matthew 18:3

Charles Wesley (1707–1788) was a Methodist evangelist who wrote more than 9,000 hymns and sacred poems. Some, like “O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing,” are great, soaring hymns of praise. But his poem “Gentle Jesus, Meek and Mild,” first published in 1742, is a child’s quiet prayer that captures the essence of how all of us should seek the Lord in sincere, simple faith.

Loving Jesus, gentle Lamb,

In Thy gracious hands I am;

Make me, Savior, what Thou art,

Live Thyself within my heart.

When some followers of Jesus were jockeying for position in His kingdom, the Lord “called a little child to Him, set him in the midst of them, and said, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven’” (Matt. 18:2-3).

Not many children seek position or power. Instead, they want acceptance and security. They cling to the adults who love and care for them. Jesus never turned children away.

The last stanza of Wesley’s poem shows a childlike desire to be just like Jesus: “I shall then show forth Thy praise / Serve Thee all my happy days; / Then the world shall always see / Christ, the holy Child, in me.” —David McCasland

Father, give me the faith of a little child. I want

to know Your love and care, and to rest in Your

embrace. Grant my desire to be like You in all

my ways that I might live for Your honor.

Faith shines brightest in a childlike heart.

Bible in a year: Proverbs 19-21; 2 Corinthians 7

Insight

Jesus’ warning in Matthew 18:6 would have been received with the weight it deserved. The ancient Hebrews viewed the sea as a place of danger and chaos. As a result, there were few things more feared than death by drowning, the picture Jesus painted here.

Ravi Zacharias Ministry – A God Who Descends

Ravi Z

The first time I walked through the crowded, pungent streets of Bethlehem, I was struck by the disparity between what I was seeing and “the little town of Bethlehem” I had spent my life imagining in manger scenes and songs. The harsh reality of God becoming a child—not in a sweet and sentimental village somewhere far away, but in the midst of this cold and dark world I knew myself—suddenly seemed a blaring proclamation indeed. The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. It is little wonder that some of the most theology-rich hymns are Christmas carols that have at heart the Incarnation. In a darkened world not unlike this one, two thousand years ago, God came in person.

Almost immediately after his Christian conversion, Charles Wesley took to hymn writing as a way to capture the hope of God’s nearness persistently stirring in his mind. Though a few of the words have long since been changed, one of his 6,000 hymns is a widely beloved declaration of this Incarnation. Seeking to convey in pen and ink a Christmas story both familiar to our hearts and startlingly unfamiliar in its wonder, Wesley wrote:

Hark, how all the welkin rings,

“Glory to the King of kings;

Peace on earth, and mercy mild,

God and sinners reconciled!”

Joyful, all ye nations, rise,

Join the triumph of the skies;

Universal nature say,

“Christ the Lord is born to-day!”

The Christ child in the manger is forever an indication of the great lengths God will go to reconcile his creation, a savior willing to descend that we might be able to ascend with him. “Welkin” is an old English term meaning “the vault of heaven.” In this dramatic word, Wesley illustrates the crux of Christian theology: All of heaven opened up for the birth of a king and the rebirth of humanity. The vault of God was thrown open to make way for the one who was coming and all that would come as a result of it.

Hail, the heavenly Prince of Peace,

Hail, the Sun of Righteousness!

Light and life to all he brings,

risen with healing in his wings.

Mild he lays his glory by,

born that man no more may die;

born to raise the sons of earth;

born to give them second birth.

The Incarnation is the jarring reminder that God speaks and the world is moved. While the Christmas story reports the massive hope that God came near, the ordinary and incredible signs of redemption show that God has chosen to remain. Wesley saw this intimate connection between God’s nearness and the transformed likeness of our humanity. Where God comes near, countenances themselves are changed.

Come, Desire of nations, come,

fix in us thy humble home;

rise, the woman’s conquering Seed,

bruise in us the serpent’s head.

Now display thy saving power,

ruined nature now restore;

now in mystic union join

thine to ours, and ours to thine.

The startling hope and mystery of the Incarnation is that it reorders the world we know—visually, physically, restoratively, eternally. Where there is despair, where there is joy, where there is need, Christ is living in its midst. Where there is a heart that prepares him room, the Spirit has already transformed life in his image. Come, Desire of nations, come; fix in us thy humble home. These cries have been heard. The vault of heaven is open.

Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.