“And there were certain Greeks among them that came up to worship at the feast . . . saying, Sir, we would see Jesus” (John 12:20-21).
The feast of the Passover was at hand. The City of Jerusalem overflowed with worshipers. There was hardly an available space in home, shop, or byway. The grasping, shouting merchants waved their wares about their heads to make the most of this once-a-year “bonanza.” People pushed and shoved to get the best spaces or the best merchandise. The animals, the dust, the smoke from the many fires, and the smell of food all mingled together. We can barely imagine this scene as we sit in the luxurious comfort of 1991 America.
And yet, as they say, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Once again we will be pressing through the holiday season. We struggle to maintain a balance in our Christian lives. Trying not to get caught up in the plastic and tinfoil, the glitter and sparkle that the world dangles before us, and yet trying not to appear too “bah-humbug” about what is purportedly the celebration of the birth of our lovely Lord Jesus. Some of our favorite hymns blare out over parking lot loudspeakers as shoppers push and shove to buy “silk-like” poinsettias, foil trees, battery-operated gadgets, and the ingredients for their low cal, no cholesterol, sodium free, decaf, vegetarian Christmas dinner! (No offense, please, to those of you indulging in any of these items. Was there anyone left out?)
Commercialized religion, or was it religious commerce, was prevalent in first century Jerusalem as well. Yet, in the midst of it all, there were certain Greeks. We know almost nothing about them beyond conjecture. They may have been very much like the people around us. Perhaps they sought favor, or personal gain, or freedom from those things that oppressed them. Or was it that they sought reality, honesty, and simplicity amid the sham and emptiness that man’s religion offered. So of all the solutions they could have sought, they hit on the solution of the ages: “We would see Jesus!”
Today, as then, we sense something missing. We grumble and complain and long for a “simpler time.” Yet amid it all, we can see God working. The hearts and minds of a few, hardened and cold, are melted (if only for this brief time) and turned miraculously to think, even superficially, about the Saviour of their souls! Men and women who at any other time of year may even disallow the mention of His name. Men and women who have no sense of need, of loss, of sin, much less any desire for this same Jesus to become their Lord and Saviour. Yet these same men and women are heard singing:
O Holy Child of Bethlehem!
Descend to us we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in;
Be born in us today.
Joy to the world! The Lord is come;
Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And heaven and nature sing.
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King:
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled.
How wonderful is that innate knowledge that for empty hearts there is filling — in the Lord Jesus! Amid the tumult there is peace — in Christ Jesus! Amid the sham there is reality — in the Lord! Amid the grasping, mercenary world, there is grace and mercy — in the Saviour! Amid sorrow, bewilderment, and loss, there is salvation — in Him! But then doesn’t Isaiah say He would be called Wonderful?
Saint of God, hold Christ high. Grasp the “in season” opportunities to speak a word for Him to unsaved family and friends. Labor on; pray on, as we behold the wonder of our God stirring up the ashes of men’s hearts yet once more to see if, per chance, a spark might catch. It could be that this season that last living stone may be set in place! Because they see in you a balance, a joy, a wonder, may they say: “Sir, we would see Jesus!