What's your Magnum?
27 March 08
Did you ever read those stories when you were a kid that had a genie in that granted the hero(ine) three wishes?
I used to dream about someone granting me three wishes. I can’t remember what I wished for – except that my first wish was always to have unlimited wishes…
But I’m reckoning that for most of us, the three wishes would involve something along the lines of being ‘really really ridiculously good-looking’ (you’ll have to imagine me doing Magnum) – make me a hottie and I’ll be happy. Then we’d turn our attention to our talents. Make me a brilliant musician. Make me the best footballer in the world. Let me run a multinational bank and be stinking rich. What then? How about…being popular? Yeah, we’d be the benchmark of cool; people would hang onto our every word, quote us in magazines or among their friends, look up to us and imitate us. Sure, as Christians we say we’d use these things for Jesus. Set up a ‘Flirt to Convert’ ministry or something. Make sure we wore a WWJD bracelet at the World Cup. Use our money to give to charity and church projects.
I’ve been really challenged this Easter by, surprise surprise, Jesus. We all know that he died on the cross; that’s historical fact, as well as the essential centre of the Christian faith. What’s challenging is considering what he left behind to die on the cross. He came from heaven, and what did he come to? It says in the Bible that Jesus wasn’t good-looking – ‘there was nothing attractive about him, nothing to cause us to take a second look’. (Isaiah 53:2, The Message) Ever considered that? Jesus wasn’t a hottie. I mean, I know we always see him represented as bearded and a bit grubby, but he always has deep brown eyes and a sort of compelling manner – you get the impression that this is not an ordinary man, even if he could do with a shower and a shave. Yet the Bible specifically says that he was just that – an ordinary man. Nothing special about him to attract us to him. Not what we’d wish for…
Jesus wasn’t famous, either, at least not in the sense we think of. He was a well-known speaker – crowds followed him wherever he went – but he chose to hang around with a bunch of people who were totally not respected in his culture. Think about it. Translated into our culture, the twelve disciples might include a dodgy traffic warden (Matthew), a militant extremist (Simon), several bin men (James, John, Andrew), a man with all the tact of Prince Philip and George Bush combined (Peter), and very few GCSEs between them. It’s not that it’s wrong to be famous – God gives us all sorts of gifts and expects us to use them for him, and fame is one of those things. But it shows that Jesus always chose the humble way. Paul asks in the Bible, “Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses?” (1 Corinthians 1:27, The Message)
And Jesus definitely wasn’t rich. He was from the household of a carpenter, not a top barrister or anything like that. He told his followers in no uncertain terms that he had less material wealth than animals and birds: “Foxes have their holes and birds have their nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” (Matthew 8:20, NIV) He didn’t even have a proper house, and he wasn’t welcomed in his home town once he stopped being a carpenter and started preaching. Even his family were a bit embarrassed by him.
Are you looking back at those three wishes and feeling a bit shallow? I sure am… My Lord left his home in heaven, way beyond the biggest palace and most luxurious spa you could imagine, and became ordinary. Like me, except he didn’t have faults. He wasn’t really really ridiculously good-looking, he wasn’t famous, he wasn’t rich. He was the best teacher the world has ever seen, and had no formal qualifications. He was a king, and demanded no special treatment. He had power over life and death, but he chose to allow himself to be killed – in my place.
Will I walk his road as he walked mine?