I Saw the Lord: The Definition of a Christian

 

A few months ago I was doing some genealogical work, and it's got me thinking a lot about the Quakers because, for many generations, my ancestors were Quakers. But there were also Methodists and Baptists in our background. And, of course, they had some rather significant differences, and I expect these differences would seem particularly accentuated when viewed from the vantage point of a nominal adherent. Seeing only the outward realities, a nominal Baptist might have very little in common with a nominal Quaker. But among the born again there is something foundationally in common. 

It isn’t only that we share an emphasis on the person and work of Jesus Christ. It's deeper, and it's experiential. We may not agree on particular customs or doctrines, but what we have in common is so great it eclipses all the differences. And what we share in common, of course, is this new birth. What has happened to the born again Quaker has also happened to the born again Methodist and Baptist.

If you asked them, what might they say? 

In one way or another I expect they would each say something about discovering Jesus—perhaps it would sound something like the parable of the man who found treasure hidden in a field. The man who found the treasure returned home, sold everything he had, and came back and bought the field. It was a heavy price to pay, but for him it was easy. In fact, we are told that he did it for joy. The treasure was worth that much to him. And so Jesus, who is that treasure, once discovered, is worth more than all the world to all who find Him.

In his famous hymn, John Newton spoke of how he was once blind, but now he could see. What was it that he could see? I suspect, at heart, he meant Jesus.

When speaking of the new birth, Paul described it like this: “For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.”

When I think of my own experience, I come back to this verse. What was it that happened to me? I was raised in a Christian home, I went to church, I read my Bible, and for years there seemed to be stirrings in my soul. But I also remember when everything changed. 

What happened? 

In the words of Isaiah, “I saw the Lord.” I saw Jesus. 

It wasn’t a literal, physical thing. It was as Paul put it. With eyes of faith I was seeing the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. I saw Him, and—like millions before me—I was forever changed. And how could I not be? On that day, in that moment when I was born again, I saw One whose very name is Wonderful. One who is the fairest of ten thousand and altogether lovely. Seeing Him, I knew I was in the presence of One holy and worthy and glorious. Seeing Him, I loved Him. Seeing Him, I longed for more—more to give Him, more praise to give Him, and more simply of Him.

But it's the seeing that makes the difference. 

Until then, all a person may know about Jesus is just head knowledge. It's intellectual, and it's empty. And this explains the Christians who seem to start so well and then one day, to everyone’s amazement, walk away. They seemed sincere and zealous, but all they had was born of the flesh. It was man-made. They made their decisions and their commitments, but it was all based on what was in their heads... and eventually it wasn’t enough. 

It's this, too, that explains the many nominal Christians who live so much like the world, and the pharisaical Christians who give Christianity a bad name. None of them have seen the Lord.

But if you have seen Him, you know something of what I mean. It doesn’t matter your culture or background; it doesn’t matter your denomination... this sight has forever changed you. You haven’t been consistent. You have sometimes failed. You have been sometimes full of love and other times more lukewarm than you want to admit. And yet you cannot deny that Jesus is worthy.

 Perhaps you are even now in something of a spiritual slump, and yet He is precious to you. You would like Him to be more precious to you than He is. You know He deserves more, and yet even now you love Him. Should He come asking, "Do you love Me?" you would answer, "Lord, You know that I love You." And because He lives, you can face tomorrow.

Whatever you may feel about yourself, you know that He is the pearl of great price. For some readers the very mention of His name is sweet. The longer you serve Him, the sweeter He grows. At times you can hardly speak of Him without tears. He is not just everything to you—He is somehow so much more than everything. He is your exceeding joy. He is your exceeding great reward. And you have learned by experience that one hour with Him is better than thousands elsewhere. And so you look forward to heaven simply because you know that He is there.

I’ve met Christians who are outwardly expressive, and I’ve met Christians who were restrained and formal. But all of us—every born again believer—feel deeply. It may be that we dance for the Lord in secret. Or perhaps the dancing's done in our hearts. Perhaps it's only in our private place of prayer that we feel free to weep and shout and sing with rapture. 

But however we may appear on the outside, we share this: that we love our Saviour, we love to praise Him, we love to sing to Him, and we want others to join us. We don’t so much care what church they go to. We aren’t nearly as interested in what doctrines they adhere to or what political party they vote for. We want them to know Him. To see what we see. To realize what a treasure He is. We want their voices to be added to that great chorus of worshippers who love to give Him glory.

Nothing else is even close to as important as this.

Which brings me to this moment. After a period of stability and even improvement in my condition, I am seeing more decline. The last 24 hours have been particularly rough. I don't remember feeling so weak. But every new low seems to beckon me homeward, reminding me that...

"I am a poor wayfaring stranger, traveling through this world of woe. But there's no sickness, toil or danger in that great world to which I go. I'm going there to see my Father. I’m going there no more to roam; I’m just a going over Jordan, I’m just a going over home." 

And isn't this the wonder of Christianity for the born-again Christian? We have seen the Lord. We know whom we serve. We know who holds the worlds and who holds our times. We know that He is better, that He is fairer, that He is so good. We know that His lovingkindness is better than life. And we can say of Him, “I am my Beloved's and my Beloved is mine.” We may know trials and hardship, but we have a home, we have a Father, and we have Jesus.

In this season of my life, I find myself less sure of some things. But with every passing day I am more sure that Jesus is worthy, that He is holy, and that He is wonderful. I find myself more enthralled by His majesty, more amazed by His grace, more overcome by His love, and more convinced than ever that He deserves our praise, our adoration, our affection, our love, our devotion, and our life. 

With every other Christian, I want Jesus to be magnified in my body, whether it be by life or by death. And as I think of the unsaved in my family and my neighbourhood, my country, and the world, I long simply that others would see Him, love Him, and join with that heavenly chorus singing His praise.