Easter Through the Years

Writings from The Salvation Army

War Cry Magazine

Christ’s Last Beatitude

                                                                                                  General Eva Burrows, 1987

When we retell the exciting Easter story, and recount those dramatic days of Christ’s resurrection, our attention is usually focused on the spectacular events which, following the agony of Christ’s death on the cross, highlight the ecstasy of His radiant appearances.

Somehow, it is the events which people remember most rather that the words Christ spoke during those significant days.  Interestingly, Jesus did not say a great deal.  Very few of His words are recorded.

His electrifying presence sufficed.  Certainly, He delivered no great sermons; however, scattered throughout the resurrection stories in the Gospels are wonderful statements.  Shinning amongst the words of the risen Lord is Christ’s last beatitude.  We all know that the Beatitudes are those inspiring sayings with which His teaching in the Sermon on the Mount commences:  “Blessed are the meek…blessed are the poor…the pure in heart…the merciful.”

No doubt, as He taught the crowds that followed Him wherever he went throughout Palestine, Jesus uttered other beatitudes.  But His last beatitude, which we treasure for its contemporary relevance, was given in the upper room in Jerusalem one week after His resurrection:  “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20:29).

Jesus had come to the Upper Room especially for the sake of the disciple Thomas- the disciple who has been labeled throughout history as “the doubter.”  The skeptical disciple.  Now, we should not be too hard on Thomas, because he wasn’t much different from you or me.

He had lost heart.  He had given his support enthusiastically and wholeheartedly to Jesus throughout His years of ministry.  But his hopes had been dashed as he saw Jesus arrested and ignominiously hung upon a cross.  His dreams shattered, he had gone off alone in despair.

In his sadness, Thomas had later gravitated back to the disciple band, to discover them in a state of excitement.  They told him the staggering news that Jesus was alive, and had come to that very room.  They had seen His nail-pierced hands, and He had talked with them.

Thomas was incredulous, unconvinced.  We cannot blame him for that.  He didn’t want his hopes raised, only to be disappointed once again.  So, perhaps with bravado, perhaps with the air of one who doesn’t lose his head in an emotionally charged atmosphere, he calmly says, “I am a realist.  Seeing is believing.  I have to see for myself the nail marks, the wounds.  Even to touch Him, before I will believe He is alive.

So that is why Jesus came again.  Just for Thomas, who immediately recognized His radiant presence.  His familiar voice, His quiet authority.  He speaks encouragingly with words for Thomas alone, as if reading his very thoughts.  “Put your fingers here – in My hands, in My side.  Touch and see.  Doubt no longer, but believe.”

Thomas did not act on Christ’s invitation.  He did not touch the wounds.  The testimony of his senses was not needed.  In that thrilling moment he believed, and from his lips came the joyous confession, “My Lord and My God!”  A confession so deep that Thomas went on to do service in which he gave his life for the sake of Christ.

Looking at the kneeling Thomas, Jesus spoke His beatitude.  They were words for us today.  “Thomas, because you have seen, you have believed.  Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

Jesus is saying that we do not need physical evidence; that we can recognize Him as Lord and Master independent of external proofs.  This is by the step of faith, which makes the leap from seeing to believing: the leap of faith.  What blessing has come to the multitudes of people down the centuries who, never having seen Christ, have believed and found Him to be their living, loving Savior and Lord!

Just as Jesus knew Thomas in an intimate and personal way, knew his doubts and despair, his shattered hopes, so He knows us, each one.  He comes to meet us individually at our point of need, and makes Himself known to us.  He breaks through our barriers of unbelief, our uncertainties, our opposition, and even sometimes through the obstacle of our indifference.

Our faith is awakened by His self-revelation, and our response to that revelation must ultimately be the same as that of Thomas, “My Lord and My God!”

We are all so different.  Some make a strong confession of faith in one unexpected, illuminating leap.  Such was Matunjwa, a fierce, young Zulu warrior in full war regalia who stood suspiciously at the edge of the crowd gathered for the first meeting held by Allister Smith, the Army’s pioneer missionary to Zululand.

As he heard the luminous words of the gospel message, he opened his heart to Christ, and in that leap of faith said, “I give myself altogether to Christ, and He gives Himself altogether to me.”  From that moment on, Matunjwa never turned back, and near the end of a lifetime of faithful service to Christ he received the Order of the Founder for his devotion to his Lord and Master.

For some, the step of faith is a long, long quest.  A search which takes them down the dead-end streets of man’s own philosophies, on abortive ventures into mystery cults or, sadly for some, misguidedly down the delusive alleyways of the drug scene.

But still, Jesus Christ is there.  With His unrelenting, undiscourageable love, He is near the searcher, waiting for the moment of truth when the search is ended and faith is found.

Some are even reluctant believers, like the great English scholar, C.S. Lewis.  How patient Christ is with those who have seen the truth that He is Lord and God, but who do not want to give in!  When all the defensive arguments C.S. Lewis put forward were demolished, he buried himself in work to avoid a confrontation with Christ.

In his autobiography Surprised by Joy he wrote:  “Night after night, whenever I lifted my mind from work, I was aware of the steady, unrelenting approach of Him, whom I earnestly desired not to meet.  That which I greatly feared had come upon me.  I gave in, and admitted God was God, and knelt and prayed.  Perhaps that night the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England, I did not then see what is now obvious thing… the divine humility which will accept a convert on such terms…that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful.”

Jesus understands us each one, and He waits to lead us to faith without coercion.  He wins us by His enduring, steadfast love, and when we confess Him as Lord and Master the rich blessings of His presence follow us through all our days.  We can be unshakably sure of the supreme certainty of the Christian faith in the living Christ, the Son of God who loved us and gave Himself for us.

This reminds me of the young boy I saw wearing a T-shirt with the printed legend, “Jesus is Lord.”  He had taken a thick, felt pen, and above an arrow between the words “is” and “Lord” he had written in large letters the word “my.”  This was his public testimony to his personal faith: “Jesus is my Lord.”

I trust that might be the testimony of every reader this Easter season:  “Jesus, my Lord and my God!”