Excerpted from Seasons of
Christian Spirituality: Kingdomtide
I am the living
bread which came down from Heaven: if any man eat of this
bread, he shall
live for ever: and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will
give for the life
of the world.
John 6.51
King Abgar Ouchama V of Edessa was one of the first Christian kings in
history. But his
conversion story is weird. Many Eastern Orthodox believers consider some
version of the story to be gospel truth. Many of the details have been
historically verified and all persons involved were actually alive and gave
testimony to the events. But I’m not yet ready to nominate this one for the
solid gold integrity award. For now, let’s continue to call it a fanciful
Christian legend, useful in illustrating a point.
Abgar lived and ruled in Syria during the public ministry of Jesus. He
had heard of Christ’s miraculous powers and his claims to divinity and was
quickly convinced of both, despite being separated from Jesus by several
hundred miles. Abgar got mysteriously ill about the time that Christ’s
persecution by the Jewish religious leaders was heating up and getting violent,
so the king wrote to the King of Kings and offered him political asylum in exchange
for a prayer of healing.
Abgar had his court archivist, Hannan, visit Christ and deliver the
message in person. Jesus declined, but when Hannan returned to Edessa he
carried with him a portrait of
Jesus that he claimed was not made by human hands. According to Doctrine
of Addai (4th part two: how to lead a mission 717 century AD) this
portrait was crafted by God Himself, and when the archivist placed it in front
of King Abgar, it spoke these words:
Happy are those
who believe in me, but have not seen me…When I have ascended to my Father I
will send you one of My disciples. He will heal all your sufferings and your
city will be forever blessed because of your faith.
Some time passed before anything else happened, and Abgar’s condition
continued to
worsen. After the ascension of Christ Thomas the Apostle sent Thaddeus
(one of the 70
followers of Christ, from Luke 10) to Abgar. Abgar was promised in a
vision that salvation was coming, and when Thaddeus entered into the royal
court Abgar fell on his knees and cried out, ”Are you really one of the
disciples of Christ?” To which Thomas replied, “All your desires will be fulfilled
if you believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”
“I have come to believe,” Abgar said, and was healed instantly.
After this, Thaddeus worked his way through Edessa putting his hands on
people, blessing and healing them in the name of Christ. Pagan temples and
brothels alike were closed or put out of business. And although no one was
forced to convert, many thousands accepted Christ that day and each day after.
It’s a cool story, and very old which, if nothing else, demonstrates
that the purpose of the church is to go out and actually make a difference in
the lives of real people. We have been called and commissioned to heal the
sick, to cure disease, to fight the power of evil, and to bring the good news
of the gospel into every corner of the world.
Somehow our contemporary church has overlooked all of that.
Maybe it’s because we find the supernatural bits of the Bible difficult
to rationalize.
Or, maybe it’s because telling others about the gospel seems somehow
colonial,
intolerant, or pushy.
Or maybe it’s because we have no real control over the outcomes of the
kind of
encounters and that kind of risk is uncomfortable we have gotten away
from the
fact that the gospel works in two directions – Heaven later on, but also
Heaven-
on-earth now.
In this life, not just the next.
Abgar didn't call out to Christ to gain entrance into Heaven. He called
out to Christ
because he was sick and miserable and wanted life to be better and to
live well.
We need to reacquaint ourselves with the gospel priority of telling
others about
Jesus Christ and what he can do for them and through them and in them and
with them.
I understand why we’re reluctant to promise healing, a better life, or
better circumstances.
We don’t want to pander to people’s base desires for material comforts
or sell the lie of
easy living. Neither do we want to mislead them into thinking that
everything will be
better once they become Christians. But to leave out the promise of the
gospel to make
a difference in real life – to fix our relationships, to empower us to
overcome adversity,
to bolster us to withstand temptation and persecution and trial and
misery, to heal our
bodies and restore our flagging spirits – is to leave out the good news.
The church is an agency of healing, working to reconcile us to God, to
others, to our true selves, and to the world. Healing the world is comprised of
three key facets:
Charity – our service to the world, which is called diakonia in the Second Testament.
Hospitality – our community in (but not of) the world, called koinonia.
Storytelling – our proclamation to the world, called kerygma.
I encourage you to take some time to confess
your reluctance to share the gospel
your insecurities about how people will respond
your fears about whether or not you’ll tell it well.
Come before God with a humble heart and repent for narrowing the scope
of the gospel to something purely about life after death, for narrowing the
scope of the gospel to something purely about the quality of earthly life.
And then turn around and tell everyone you see the good news that God
isn't just trying to give you metaphysical fire insurance, but abundant life in
the here and now, that God isn't looking to punish you, but to reward you with
something better than what you've been able to provide for yourself, that God’s
plans aren't just limited to a few special people, but include the redemption
of the world, every culture, tribe, nation, language, city, country, and
ethnicity, that God’s plans are not merely His, but ours, too, as we
participate with Him in healing the world.