by Tami Rudkin
Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you really knew me, you would know my Father as well” (John 14:6, 7a, NIV).
They had never seen His face. They had never heard His voice. They had never walked the rocky hillside with Him.
They had never dined with Him, never bowed before Him, never cried on His shoulder. He was too far removed to hear their wailing, too lofty to understand their position, and too righteous to be compassionate.
While they eked out a living in the arid, warm land of promise, He dwelt in the comfort of countless ministering servants. While they slaved under the oppressive rule of the Roman Empire, He walked streets of gold and laughed with His loyal subjects. While they offered sacrifices hoping to please Him, He sat on His glorious throne untouched by their pitiful pittance.
Was it true? Was the God who spoke to Abraham selectively deaf? Had the God who led the people by fire and by cloud closed His eyes to the beloved? Was the God who wrote the Law on a tablet with His own finger untouched by the people’s longing? Had the God who warred for the helpless Israelites thrown down His blazing sword?
They must have wondered. And maybe we do too.
Enter Jesus
Amid all their doubting came Jesus, the truth about God. Once again God walked among men. It wasn’t in the perfect setting of the Garden. No, the days were hot, dusty, and sweaty. He didn’t ride on the chariots of wind; He walked in leather-thonged sandals, talked through parched lips, and felt bone weary – just like the created.
He didn’t dine on fine foods from the King’s table; He supped on bread, fish, wine, and figs – if He could find some. He didn’t hide in the stoic essence of a king; He was saddened to tears, He was angry and disappointed.
Jesus didn’t come to set Himself apart, to be an unknown, unreachable Savior. Instead, He came to reveal the truth about life today, about death to come, and about God who held it all in His powerful, yet gentle, hands.
Healing, Providing, Faithful
Jesus proved the reality of a healing God. He touched the outcast leper, the ungrateful blind men, and the lame man brought by friends.
Jesus proved the authenticity of a providing God. He fed five thousand people in one sitting, paid taxes from a fish’s mouth, and became the sacrifice for those who couldn’t pay for their sins.
Jesus proved the faithfulness of a loving God. He surrounded himself with the uneducated, the unpleasant, the unacceptable, the untouchable, and the apparently unredeemable. The hopeless flocked to Him, the helpless begged of Him, and the hungry in spirit bowed before Him.
Reachable, Approachable, Accessible
Jesus was the reachable King, adorned not in flashing jewels, but in compassion for the lost.
He was the approachable King, seated not on a throne made of the world’s finest materials, but of kindness for the searching.
He was the accessible King, not marching with military guards sworn to shield Him from reality, but walking among the contaminated, the contagious, and the contemptible.
Another Look
Do you still see God as the one who has forgotten the tears of His people? A God enjoying a cool drink by the pool side, while His created are scorched by sin’s relentless fire? A God unmoved by the wailing of a lost and desperate people?
I hope not.
The truth about God is seen in the Son’s face: an embracing compassion for the condemned woman, a deep sadness for a Jewish tax collector’s loneliness, a righteous anger for institutionalized religion’s abuse of man’s sinful condition, a Father’s concern for the children, and a warm love for those society had deemed barely palatable, but not significant.
Now that you’ve seen Him, won’t you come to God? He is enthroned in the simple truth revealed to us by Jesus.
About the Author
Tami Rudkin lives in Casper, WY. She has been published frequently in Discipleship Journal and has written 20 devotionals for Pathways to God (Warner Press). This article and the many others of Tami’s in our archive are taken from her book His Silhouette.