Show Notes
“You can’t handle the truth.” That’s an iconic line spoken by Jack Nicholson in the movie A Few Good Men. Jesus says something similar in our text for this week: “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot handle them now” (John 16:12). It’s a little surprising since He just told them, “All that I have heard from my father, I have made known to you” (John 15:15). It seems that they know, but not as they ought to know. And that does seem applicable to the situation.
Jesus and the eleven are walking to the Garden of Gethsemane. Each of these disciples has vowed fidelity to Jesus. And in a few hours, each will flee and “go to his own” (John 16:32) — his own abode, rather than abide with Jesus.
In a few hours, men — trying to make themselves God — will take the life of Christ on a tree in a garden. It’s not the first time it’s happened. Making yourself God is making God “not God.” It’s the “original sin” and every sin. To sin is to judge the Judgment of God with your own judgment. They take “the Life” on the tree, and the World goes black, literally. “The day you do it is the day you die,” said God in Eden. And Jesus talked as if we were already dead (John 5:24). That might be a truth that’s rather hard to handle.
Brad was my best friend as a young boy. We caught bugs together. We took art classes together. Over the years, we grew apart. In high school, Brad seemed to have lost his faith. I used to witness to Brad about Jesus. He’d smile and walk away. About 30 years ago, he died of AIDS. At his funeral, his sister pulled me aside and said, “Peter it was so weird. Before Brad died, he was delirious, and he used to lie in bed muttering over and over again, 'I can’t be God; I can’t be God; it’s so hard to be God.”
Shirley MacLaine once wrote: “I was my own universe. Did that also mean I had created God and I had created life and death? Was that why I was all there was? A chilling wave of loneliness rippled through me...” Yes. I would think so. And yet, due to the implications of quantum mechanics, some physicists speculate that this might be true. It’s a horrifying thought, for it would mean that each one of us is thoroughly alone and utterly insane — trapped in our own logos, our own logic, our own reason, our own truth . . . “Was this what was meant by the statement I Am that I Am?” asks Shirly MacLaine. Is God infinitely lonely?
John 16:8-15, Jesus says, “When [The Helper] comes, he will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment: 9 concerning sin, because they do not believe in me; 10 concerning righteousness, because I go to the Father, and you will see me no longer; 11 concerning judgment, because the ruler of this world is judged. 12 I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. 13 When the Spirit of [the] truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth [that’s Jesus], for he will not speak on his own, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. 14 He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you. 15 All that the Father has is mine; therefore I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.
NOW, read that last line over and over again.
Scripture is clear that all that the Father has is all that there is, including all souls. He has all judgment, which has been given to the Son (John 5:22); it’s the ability to make a world with just a word; it’s a thoroughly free will. The Father has a name, “I Am.” He gives it to His son “I Am is Salvation.” It sounds like an identity. Is it given to us?
To be God is an attractive idea at first, then utterly terrifying.
There’s an old Twilight Zone episode in which a six-year-old has the power to create his own world with just a word. Of course, everyone’s terrified of him and so cannot love him, but they all pretend to love him. All that he actually wants is Love, although he doesn’t yet know Love, so he repeatedly demands Love, and so cruc
More from The Sanctuary Downtown / Relentless Love
“The mere idea of you, the longing here for you. You'll never know how slow the moments go till I'm near to you. I see your face in every flower, your eyes in stars above. It's just the thought of you, the very thought of you, my love.” My wife and I have spent a lot of time on romantic vacations listening to those words sung by Billie Holiday or Nat King Cole.
Sometime around 1968, I learned about germs in school. They can be found in dirt and most of all, in the very pinnacle of depravity: poop. So, I began to wash my hands... a lot. I washed and washed, but I am a producer of human excreta, and so is everyone I know. So, it felt as if I was never finished. I was driven to cleanliness and then to the doctor, for my hands were red, raw, cracked and bleeding — open wounds susceptible to germs! I had been better off with no knowledge of “germs” and “not germs.” The doctor looked at my hands and said, “Stop (Shabat in Hebrew)! Stop washing your hands.” They hurt like hell, but it was hard as hell to stop.
John 18:38-40: “Pilate said to [Jesus], ‘What is truth?’ After he had said this, he went back outside to the Jews and told them, ‘I find no guilt in him. But you have a custom that I should release one man for you at the Passover. So do you want me to release to you the King of the Jews?’ They cried out again, ‘Not this man, but Barabbas!’ Now Barabbas was a robber [lestes: a taker].”