He Beheld His Glory
Scripture Reading: Acts 12:1-5
Going back to the gospels, we recall that the inner circle among the disciples included Peter, James, and John. These three men were honored to be witnesses to the transfiguration. They were also the men whom Jesus took further into the Garden of Gethsemane than He did the rest of the disciples, to be by His side while he prayed. One would assume they were chosen and set aside for these experiences because they were destined for future greatness within the Jesus movement. We would think that these special experiences were a part of their training and preparation for their service within the church and the gospel.
Through the early history of the church, that assumption is proven correct…mostly. After Pentecost, Peter became the leader of the church. John grew to be the revered elder statesman who endured and outlasted all of the other apostles. The Gospel of Mark is in some ways Peter’s gospel, as most think Mark is writing from Peter’s perspective and based on Peter’s account of Jesus’ life. John wrote the beloved Gospel of John, the three epistles bearing his name, and the final book in our Bible, Revelation. Peter, of course, added his own epistles which also bear his name. Their experiences with Jesus shaped and prepared them for these enduring works.
But what about James?
James, the brother of John and one of the three, was martyred by Herod early on in the history of the church. Before he could write an epistle (The book of James was written by James the half brother of Jesus, a different James), before he could rise to prominence, just as the gospel was making a breakthrough among the gentiles; a sword pierced James’ flesh and took his life.
James’ demise makes us wonder about him. He was a man in whom Jesus invested a great deal of time. He taught him and trained him and prepared him. Jesus let James in on the glory moments of the Mount of Transfiguration and the Garden of Gethsemane. And yet…
If you believe God is sovereign (and I do), you can’t also believe that James’ untimely death caught God by surprise. You can’t believe that Herod’s sword was swung without the permissive will of God. You can’t believe that God’s plans for James’ life were upended by a two-bit tyrant in Judea.
I confess to a utilitarian element in me that thinks that Jesus should have chosen a different disciple, someone other than James, to be one of the three. Since He knew James wouldn’t last long, why not let someone else be one of that inner circle? To me, that seems like a better use of resources. Why invest all of that training into a guy who would never have an opportunity to put it to use?
Let me acknowledge that I don’t have anything but guesses as to why God allowed James to be martyred by Herod’s sword. I’m not attempting to answer that kind of question. My point here is that God is not as utilitarian as we are. What do I mean?
A utilitarian believes that something or someone’s value is dependent on its usefulness. They have to be of use or serve in some functional way to be considered important. A utilitarian would design everything based on usefulness without regard for beauty. In other words, a utilitarian god would have chosen someone other than James to be one of the inner circle since he wouldn’t be around long and his training and experiences wouldn’t serve any useful purpose.
A utilitarian's priority is purpose, service, usefulness, and function. The modern church has a utilitarian bent. It is “purpose driven.” Church life revolves around questions like “where can I/you serve and function in the body?” One of my favorite Max Lucado devotionals from years past imagines us to be like metal on God’s anvil, pounded by a hammer and softened by the fire, in order to be shaped into functioning tools in God’s hands. He’s not completely wrong in his metaphor but it’s not the whole picture.
Questions about purpose aren’t bad questions until they become the only questions. It is then that they leave no space for appreciating things and experiences that serve no visible purpose other than being beautiful in and of themselves. Our modern church architecture reflects that. Newer church facilities, if they are known for anything, are renowned for their bigness, not their beauty. Our church life exudes this utilitarian bent. We wonder what God is preparing us for because, after all, we must be serving some grand purpose. If God isn’t going to use us to change the world, write a best seller, stand on the platform and speak to the masses, or at least be the homecoming queen than what is the point?
There are unintended consequences for this philosophical quicksand. It leaves little room for the aged or infirm or those who are in some way mentally or physically limited to feel like full members of the church since, after all, how can they serve and function like everyone else with their obvious limitations? Our utilitarianism makes us question a God who, for example, would put a young man through seminary and endow him with spiritual and mental gifts only to end his life shortly after graduation through a tragic accident. We are forced to try and fill in the blanks of stories like that and make sense of it and answer the “why” and discover the purpose behind it all.
Then, those who aren’t doing the “big stuff” within Christianity are made to feel like second tier believers. Purpose, after all, is big because God is big, or so we reason. We can’t have a God who just makes stuff because He wanted to and says things like “its good just because I made it.” For many, God is like a manager of a manufacturing plant, churning out functional products that serve a purpose in a consumer driven world. When in reality, God is more like the artist for Whom the universe serves as His art gallery - the heavens declaring His glory and the earth showing us His handiwork (Psalm 19).
Then, because we become like the gods we make (see Psalm 135:18), we become “purpose driven.” “Driven” is the unavoidable outcome of a “life of purpose.” When purpose, as opposed to beauty, is all there is we must frantically search for it; God having become to us like the parent who hides the eggs on Easter Sunday and expects us to run around with our basket looking for purpose under the elm tree and perched on a fence rail in the backyard, exhausting ourselves by doing rather than resting and reveling in what He has done.
None of this is meant to suggest that there is no purpose or meaning to life. It is not to say that what we learn today won’t be useful later. Jesus, after all, did train the 12, and Paul did tell Timothy to take what he had been given and entrust it to other faithful men who would do likewise. We are servants of the Lord Jesus Christ. What I am saying, or at least attempting to say, is that sometimes beauty and wonder are the purpose. Maybe James seeing Christ’s glory on the Mount and hearing Him pray in the Garden was the only point. Maybe it wasn’t preparation for something down the road, but simply an act of Jesus’ grace towards James.
So, when you get a glimpse of glory, the best question may not be “what am I supposed to do with this?” The best response may be to revel and rejoice and enjoy what God in His grace has brought before your eyes. What you are experiencing may not be about something He wants you to do in the future. It may well be just about that moment of grace when God is allowing you to see His glory – not because it serves some purpose tomorrow – but just because He wants you to know Him today.
I am not saying we aren’t called to serve the Lord. Nor am I saying our lives are meaningless and without purpose. I am saying that God didn’t create because He needed you to serve Him. He is no utilitarian God who only sees value and worth in function and service. He is not ordering your life and your experiences strictly around what purpose you serve. He cares about beauty. Sometimes beauty is the purpose.
James beheld the glory of Christ, not to prepare him for something else, but just because Christ is glorious and He wanted James to see that.


