Who Is Jesus?
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During the Reformation of the sixteenth century, the Reformer’s declared, “Christ alone!”
During the period of slavery, those in bondage sang,
In the morning when I rise, / Give me Jesus. / Dark midnight was my cry, / Give me Jesus. / Just about the break of day, / Give me Jesus. / Oh, when I come to die, / Give me Jesus. / And when I want to sing, / Give me Jesus.
Give me Jesus, / Give me Jesus. / You may have all the rest, / Give me Jesus.
When those of my rebellious generation were chased down by the Hound of Heaven and the Jesus Revolution swept the land, our standard was the same as the slaves before us. “Give me Jesus, / Give me Jesus. / You may have all the rest, / Give me Jesus” and our declaration the same as Luther’s, “Christ alone!”
Today, the Author and Finisher of our faith, the One who is and is to come; the Light in darkness, the One who knows, who cares, who understands, and who is the Truth of God; the revelation of God, the hand of God touching, the voice of God calling, and the compulsion of God’s goodness is again on the move.
Through the labyrinthine catacombs of our destitution, He is hunting, chasing, exacting, and revealing Himself to this generation. “I AM Jesus, the One whom you seek.”
Light has dawned
Throughout the wandering and meandering of a generation without hope, the Light has dawned. This generation has renounced the darkness foisted upon them by desperate powers and they have turned to the Light. Their cry? “Give me Jesus, / Give me Jesus. / You may have all the rest, / Give me Jesus.”
Their cry has given rise to my own, somewhat buried under all the noteworthy work of declaring the Gospel in ministry. Convicted, like that of the Ephesians, I said, “I repent. Spirit, clarify for me. Help me see.” For several days—nearly two weeks—I lived in the humility of conviction that felt close to shame were it not for the reassurance of my adoption into the Family.
Once I could declare without reservation, “Christ alone!” my First Love, then my Older Brother reached from the Light, recast my vision, and I rediscovered my soul’s simple song so profound: “Give me Jesus, / Give me Jesus. / You may have all the rest, / Give me Jesus.”
For a couple of months, this has been my prayer, my guttural lament, my utterance, my melody, and my bolstered, renewed confidence. A fresh wind fills my sails; a fresh fire burns within.
Like creation, I groan.
During the last years, it seems to me every corner of my soul has been afflicted. Paul told the Corinthians he despaired of life. While my afflictions for the cause of Christ are paltry to those Paul describes, I can relate. I too have despaired.
Yes. I built my work on the foundation of Christ and I comprehend—it’s easier conviction when everything is going well—that the Kingdom of God is not reliant upon my work or name. Still. It is a profound grief to watch evil men destroy my profession and profane my reputation.
But from my place of despair in suffering, once all the noise of ministry was quiet, and the [false] hopes of a rebuilt platform were laid to rest, my soul recovered its song as I walked in the night, “Give me Jesus. / You may have all the rest, / Just give me Jesus.”
Two weeks ago, I sat in a rental car beside a curb in Durango, Colorado. I finished fighting—finally—a fierce dragon who had stalked me for days. Once slain, I drove alongside the Dolores River to my destination situated 9,900 feet above Telluride.
The next morning, staring out the window at Flattop Mountain, already dusted with snow, skirted with golden Aspen, I said, “Brother [Jesus]. To the best of my ability, I’ve tried to grasp you, to know you. In my novels, I attempted to portray you.”
I paused to recall.
“But time has passed, Brother. The last years have been tough. I have feared for my safety. All around me is destruction, casualty, and loss. Like creation, I groan. When I look in the mirror, I have a thousand-mile stare.
“Yet, there is something more. You are rising up, displaying a different side. I caught glimpses of these aspects of you when I cast you as Vassar in my novels, but… but Brother: What is this I’m seeing in you?”
Thoughts that were not mine unfolded. I typed furiously to keep up.
Little Brother…
I am the Lamb slain. The Great Shepherd gone to hell to rescue my lost sheep, even at the expense of my life.
I am the shrewd wisdom of a divine mind determined to exact vengeance upon hell for its harm to those whom I love.
Do you truly believe you can contain Me with death?
I am the God-man, fully divine, fully human, thus possessing incalculable ingenuity to make darkness pay for its headlong dedication to subvert me and hurt my Family.
I am the One who, even though bearing the curse of all humanity, in my dying throes, in the bowels of hell, forsaken by my divine colleagues, lost to heaven, determined to use my power in death to wreak vengeance upon those who hate me, despise me, and did violence to me and those whom I hold dear.
I am the One who did not go quietly into that dark night. While bearing the ultimate pain and absolute suffering, my innocence ruined and my divinity sullied, in death and hell I said, “Lucifer, you are a lost cause who just suffered the ultimate defeat, not the final victory you claim. Do you truly believe you can contain Me with death?”
I laughed in the face of ultimate evil. Derisive. Scorning. Haunting. The laugh of One who knows so much more, the laugh of One whose future appeared terminal but whose death would unleash chaos in the dark and cause hell to loath its existence.
I am the One who, bearing all suffering, is acquainted with absolute grief, and having nothing to lose, unleashed the torment of my presence. Those who live in darkness realized in Me that I dwell in darkness and own the night.
I am inescapable.
As the One who is absolute good, it was only just that my goodness descend into hell and make myself known to those living in darkness and the delusion of pride in themselves.
They loved themselves and rejected Me.
But with my revelation, my presence, I am the One who caused unrequited gnashing of teeth and tormented wailing.
Why? Because those living in darkness saw Me, the Light in their darkness, and knew that by their choice their souls were absent of Me, afflicted with the outcome of their rebellion. They loved themselves and rejected Me.
I am the hero whose demise stunned all.
Hope was lost. Goodness concluded. Light extinguished. Desperate, unfulfilled evil would now reign. Without relief. In place of light and life, the cult of death ruled.
Having exacted my final capabilities to unleash mayhem, disarray, and ultimate undoing in the depths, I am the One who died nobly, cursed by heaven’s propriety and by divine necessity.
But I am the One, who knowing now the cost of coming for those lost, would do so all over again. And with this, I am the One who yielded my existence, not in death, but in relinquishment to reveal ultimate good.
And by all that’s holy, I am the One raised, restored, divine life is mine with power to hold all things together by my word.
Suffering servant, no more!
I AM the consummate warrior!
Seizing power in the darkest of places, I unleashed a torrent and in the midst of mayhem, chaos, confusion and complete degradation, I led those held captive to freedom.
I am the storm that shook the underworld and caused it to quake, hunker down, and adopt its only option in the face of ultimate defeat and disgrace: complete denial. Calling what is right, wrong, utter failure a victory; living lies while embracing deceit as enlightenment; treasuring consciences seared, minds engrossed in darkness, souls destitute; considering themselves wise, but sensing intuitively a foolish core that is their only and eternal comfort; grasping with desperate claws, they cannot find eternal purchase in decaying, desiccated souls; investing repeatedly their pride while staring at the sunk cost of their only chance, themselves, which is their precious thing; wildly investing their ever-declining hope in themselves, they realize only loss, an ever-decreasing hopelessness that they will garner some form of return on their destitute investment.
While acquainted with grief and ultimate suffering, I am no longer the suffering servant, the Lamb slain, or the One who knows intimately all of hell.
I am the Mighty Warrior. My scream of victory is the shiver down creation’s spine, the pierce of total cold and the burn of white-hot passion. In me, all that is not of me is undone and all that is of me worships.
Yes, I am peace, but I am fierce. I am rest, but I am relentless pursuit. I am mercy, but I am vengeance. I am grace, and I am rejection. I am acceptance, and I am exacting perfection.
I am seated on my throne, but I stand for those martyred in my name. I am fulfillment and I am loss. I am life discovered through death. I am infinite, I am present.
By me, all things hold together, and all that is not of me grapples against insufferable, eternal entropy.
I am love, but don’t mess with me! I am the One who makes all things right and I am the One who exacts divine vengeance upon all who do wrong.
I am the One who is love, whose eyes are flames of fire, whose clothes are dipped in blood, whose destrier is a white stallion, whose sword will not be denied, and whose words leave the battlefield littered with all that is unholy.
All of this I AM because in all of this I AM good. Let all take note: In me, there is no other.
My keyboard went silent. I sat stunned. Staring at Flattop Mountain and the golden Aspen. My thoughts silent. My eyes were foggy with tears, but my heart heard a battle cry I needed to hear. My worship was simple. “Whew!”
And I heard in my head, Little Brother, you asked.