“Into the World”

I invite you to turn and follow along as I read from the seventeenth chapter of John—John chapter 17 and reading from the beginning through to the end of verse 19.

John 17:1:

“When Jesus had spoken these words, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, ‘Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. And this is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work that you gave me to do. And now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had with you before the world existed.

“‘I have manifested your name to the people whom you gave me out of the world. Yours they were, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything that you have given me is from you. For I have given them the words that you gave me, and they have received them and have come to know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me. I am praying for them. I[’m] not praying for the world but for those whom you[’ve] given me, for they are yours. All mine are yours, and yours are mine, and I am glorified in them. And I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, keep them in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one. While I was with them, I kept them in your name, which you have given me. I have guarded them, and not one of them has been lost except the son of destruction, that the Scripture might be fulfilled. But now I am coming to you, and these things I speak in the world, that they may have my joy fulfilled in themselves. I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they[’re] not of the world, just as I am not of the world. I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth.’”

Amen.

From John 17, we’re going to be looking this morning at verse 18 and this evening at verse 19.

And as you turn to make sure you know what they are, let me pray for us once again:

Our Father, we thank you this morning that we have a Bible to which we’re able to turn. We thank you that Jesus said, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.”[1] And so we want to turn to your Word, the living Word of God, that by the living Spirit of God, our hearts and minds may be taught and that we might be brought into a living, ongoing, vibrant relationship with Jesus, the Son of God, in whose name we pray. Amen.

Well, there you have it—verse 18: Jesus is praying to the Father, and he says, “[Father,] as you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.”

In March of 1929, D. E. Hoste, who was at that time the general director of the China Inland Mission, recognizing that the civil war within the country of China had, for a variety of reasons, depleted the number of people who were engaged in mission there, he sent out a communiqué asking God and asking others to consider the possibility that, either men or women, they might become one of two hundred new people who would be raised up to take the gospel to China within two years. And by 1931, God had answered that prayer.

Aldis—a man by the name of Aldis, who was the UK director of CIM—put out in a magazine a very clear statement concerning the need: “two hundred men and women who know and love the Lord Jesus and who share the Lord’s passion for souls—men and women who believe that the gospel is still the power of God unto salvation for everyone who believes.” And a gentleman by the name of Frank Houghton—himself also a clergyman, an evangelical Anglican, who had served in China during some of those years—he was commissioned to write a hymn for their gathering in the sending out of these two hundred in 1931. That hymn will be our closing hymn. You’re familiar with it. It begins, “Facing a task unfinished…” And it contains within it for me what is the most amazing line, which simply reads, “Ours is the same commission.”[2] “Ours is the same commission.”

And as I came to this eighteenth verse in the early part of last week, I found myself thinking immediately of that: that the mission of those whom Jesus sends out is Jesus’ mission, and that purpose that marks those whom he sends out characterizes who they are and what they do—so that the disciples of Jesus, both then and now, are not supposed in any way to be aimless, purposeless in any aspect at all but rather focused in fulfilling the commission that comes from Jesus.

Now, we come to this because we’re listening in on Jesus as he prays to the Father. He is praying to the Father in the shadow of the cross. When you read on in the Gospel, you realize within a very short order, the praying Jesus here will be the suffering Jesus in Gethsemane and, ultimately, on Calvary. His earthly pilgrimage is about to come to an end. He’s coming, he says, to the Father: “I’m returning to you, and I’m leaving them behind.” And in doing so, he has prayed, as we saw in verse 15, that they would be preserved, or kept; and, as he then went on to pray, that they might be sanctified, or made holy. And now, here, in verse 17, he is praying for them as they are commissioned. Commissioned. Verse 18 actually fits quite remarkably well, doesn’t it, with our already-anticipated celebration of the coming of Jesus in the incarnation? “As you sent me into the world” takes us back to Bethlehem, and verse 19 takes us forward to Calvary and helps us as we come this evening to the Lord’s Supper.

The disciples of Jesus are not supposed in any way to be aimless, purposeless in any aspect at all but rather focused in fulfilling the commission that comes from Jesus.

Now, I want to approach it from three lines: first of all, to consider what the Father has done; then to consider what Christ has done; and, finally, to consider where we fit into all that God has done and is doing.

What the Father Has Done

What has the Father done? Well, he says there: “As you”—that is, the Father— “sent me into the world…” The verse actually doesn’t simply take us to Bethlehem, but it takes us back behind Bethlehem. It actually takes us back into eternity. It takes us to the place that is unfathomable for our minds, where God, one in essence and three in persons, enters into a plan and purpose for those whom he has made. And it is according to that eternal plan and purpose that the whole unfolding drama of life, and certainly of redemption, is then taking place.

When we studied in Ephesians, which was quite a long time ago now, we took time to make sure we understood what Paul was saying when he talks about how God is “making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth in Christ as a plan for the fullness of time.”[3] You see that? “Father, you sent me”—God, in the fullness of time, executing a plan.

In fact, we see that in the opening verses of 17—which seems a while ago as well. But you’ll notice in 17:5 as we read it, Jesus says, “And now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had with you before the world existed.” Now, just sit in your seat for a moment and think about that: “Father, glorify me with the glory I had with you before the world existed.” As we say to our grandchildren, before there was time, before there was anything, there was God. And out of eternity, what the Father is doing in time emerges from eternity so that we might grasp the vastness of it all. And God’s plan is a plan that never needs to be changed, never needs to be altered—indeed, cannot be altered. God’s plan from all of eternity is his plan A, and there is no plan B, and there is no plan C. And make sure you don’t listen to anybody who tells you that in the Old Testament, God had a certain plan, but somehow or another, it wasn’t working out the way he intended, and so he came up with a second plan, and that plan is, of course, more accessible to us. That’s the kind of thing they say. They’re talking off the top of their heads and with a Bible closed in front of them. The plan of God in Jesus is a plan from all eternity.

And that’s why Jesus is absolutely clear about this. I tried to emphasize it as I read the chapter, that he is making the point again and again: “Father, you sent me. You sent me. I am here because you sent me.” His time on earth is on account of the fact that the Father has sent him into the world. That’s why when we read the Bible, we discover that the Bible is either pointing forward to his coming, or it is reflecting on the fact that he came and anticipating the fact that he will return.

So, for example, we say it routinely, but it’s worth reminding ourselves that the prophets, when you read the Old Testament prophets, they were, as it were, standing on their tiptoes, scanning the horizon, looking down through the corridors of time—a time that they themselves will not inhabit—and wondering about who it is that they were writing about. Because the Bible tells us later on that they were made aware of the fact that what they were writing about was not actually initially for them, but it was for those who would come.

So, for example, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government [will] be upon his shoulder[s],”[4] and so on. And I say it routinely, because I want to check with Isaiah when I get to heaven and see him: “Did your wife ever ask you about what it was you were writing?” Because I’ve suggested that to the people all along. “Did she ask you one morning, ‘What do you mean, “The government will be upon his shoulder”? What is that about?’”

Well, when Paul—a devout, monotheistic Jew—discovers who Jesus is and he writes to encourage those who are under his shepherding care, he picks up the very same terminology from Ephesians: “When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son.”[5] “When the fullness of time had come”—when the plan from eternity was ready to be executed in time.

And when you come right up to the arrival of Jesus, you find that there are people like Simeon, a godly man who is living in the temple precincts, who has got his gaze on “the consolation of Israel.”[6] In other words, he’s reading the Prophets, and he knows that there is one who is to come. And Luke tells us that he was filled with the Holy Spirit, and in a moment of revelation, it was made known to him that the small child that was about to be entrusted to his lap is none other than the one for whom he has been longing. And in that amazing moment—a day of visitation if there ever was one—he takes the child Jesus in his arms, and he says, “Now I can actually depart in peace, for my eyes have seen your salvation.”[7]

What was it for Mary and Joseph in that amazing scene, when now Jesus is twelve years old, and they get disengaged from one another, and they have to go back and find him in the temple, and he’s there conversing with the authorities and discussing matters? And they, as naturally as you would expect it, say, “You know, we’ve been looking everywhere for you, and we’re just not sure about what is going on.” He says, “Didn’t you know that I had to be about my Father’s business?”[8] What a strange thing to say—unless, of course, he is the Lord of eternity; unless, of course, in the secret recesses of eternity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit determine the plan that will be executed from all of eternity into time. And that’s exactly what has happened.

That’s why as we’ve read through John’s Gospel, intermittently but nevertheless, Jesus is making reference to it again and again. I won’t ask you to turn to it, because it can be tedious, but I’ll turn to it myself, ’cause I always like to check and see if what I’ve written in my notes is actually in the Bible. But John 5:37, and Jesus is speaking concerning the work to which he has come in follow-on to John the Baptist, and he says, “And the Father who sent me has himself borne witness about me.” In chapter 16—which we never dealt with at all—but in 16:28, Jesus, in anticipation of the prayer that we’re now considering, says, “I came from the Father and have come into the world, and now I am leaving the world and [I am] going to the Father.”

Jesus was not commissioned in the manger. Jesus was not commissioned to his task at his baptism. Jesus was commissioned from eternity. He was sent from all eternity. When you converse with people about Jesus, as we have opportunity to do, remember that the most intriguing thing about it in every ultimate aspect, surely, is not the fact that God would rise from the dead but the fact that God would become incarnate.

Consider what the Father has done: “Father, you sent me into the world.” But here’s the question: Why has he done it? Why has he done it? The answer to that, of course, is a study all of its own. Justin read for us—not because I asked him to but because God orchestrates these things—from John 3:16–17: “For God so loved the world…” He “loved the world”—the world that he has made, a world that was in rebellion against him, a world that had decided that funny little idols would do just as well to make them navigate through their lives—those who have turned their backs on him. He comes and he expresses himself in Jesus because he loves the world.

It is in the cross that the love of God is ultimately displayed.

You see, that’s why we’re praying for South Africa and for Chile and so on. The Jewish people to whom he came (John chapter 1: “He came to his own; his own received him not”),[9] they could understand the notion that God would love the Jews. What they couldn’t understand was that God would love the entire world. And that was a message that was eventually going to penetrate and transform. But until it did, they lived with that notion.

Now, it’s for this reason that we say routinely and purposefully that the Father gave the Son by sending him. But he gave the Son also in the cross. Because it is in the cross that the love of God is ultimately displayed, so that whoever would believe in him would not perish but have everlasting life. When you invite your friends to this event next Sunday evening, just remember this. There’s only two categories: life or perishing. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son”—that’s why he sent him, that’s why he came—“that [whoever] believe[s] in him should not perish.”[10] What do you mean, “should not perish”? We’re perishable. We all have a shelf life. We are all dying. And the reason that we die is because of sin. That is the punishment of God for the fact of our sin. And the wonder is that this God from all of eternity, because of his love, sends Jesus in order that we might entrust ourselves to him, might believe in him, so that we will not perish.

’Cause he’s the one about whom we’ve been singing. He’s “the resurrection and the life.”[11] “Whoever believes in me,” he says, “even though he die, yet shall he live; and whosoever dies and believes in me will actually ultimately never die”[12]—that with the blink of an eye, we’ll be from this earthly presence into the reality of his eternal presence. And everything that flows from that is all on account of the fact that God sent his Son.

And he sent his Son because of love. Iain Murray, whom we know and appreciate so much, in one of his books—I think it’s Preaching the Cross or something—he says, “Persuading men and women of God’s love is the great calling of Christian ministry.” “Persuading men and women of God’s love.” Can I persuade some doubting heart this morning of God’s love for you in Jesus? Can I persuade some stubborn, resistant will that it may be just the love of God expressed in Jesus that breaks down the barriers that keep you from the joy that is found in the gospel?

Considering what God has done.

What Christ Has Done

Secondly: considering what Jesus has done. Well, it’s all in the verse, isn’t it? “Father, as you sent me into the world—that’s what you, the Father, have done—so I have sent them into the world”—those that have been given him by the Father. You notice as we read through, again and again he says, “the people that you gave me out of the world.”

And if you go through and read 17 again, especially in the second half of it, what an emphasis there is on the world! The word “world” comes up again and again and again. And we’ve seen that. In verse 11, Jesus refers to his followers as these people who “are in the world.” In verse 16, he says, “But we need to understand that they are actually not of the world.” They are in the world—they’re not isolated from the world—but they’re not of the world. They’re not operating on the same world principles.

You see, when we think about living in the world, incidentally, as Christians, one possibility is isolation, and the other possibility is imitation. When we isolate ourselves from the world—choose not to embrace our non-Christian friends or move in circles that are like that—when we isolate ourselves from the world, we’ve got something to say, but we’ve got nobody to say it to. However, when we imitate the world—when we absorb the lifestyle of the world, when we look no different from anybody else in the world—then we have an audience, but we’ve got nothing to say to them. Because everybody in the world knows that if you are a Christian, you’re supposed to be a certain way.

I had an illustration of it last evening when, in a restaurant, one of the helpers said, “There are some people over in the corner there from your church.” How she knew that I don’t know, but the fact is… And it’s not my church, but I guess “from Parkside,” she meant. And so I said somewhat flippantly to her, I said, “Well, you know, I’m not going to go over there, because, you know, I might not like them.” And she was waiting on a table. But she came back, and her next line was “Where is your Christian hospitality?” And then she went away again. She came back. I said, “What do you know about Christian hospitality?” And then we had an interchange, because she, in her teenage years, found that a friend had introduced her to the true gospel, that she discovered these things. She’s not where she needs to be, but it all unfolded from the fact that she knew, she knows that you’re supposed to be different. And if you’re not different, then you can talk all you like, but it doesn’t matter a bit.

That’s the illusion of the idea that the closer we live to the world in its lifestyle, in its thought forms, embracing all these things, the better able we will be to engage with them. Read church history. It’s never been true, and it won’t be true. We identify with the world not in its sin, but we identify with the world in its need. Therefore, we are neither isolated from them, nor are we imitators of them. And so, when Jesus sends them into the world, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Now, if you notice—which I trust you do—when you read 18: “As you sent me,” past tense, “into the world, so I have sent them,” past tense, “into the world.” Well, you’ll be reading that on your own; you say, “But wait a minute—shouldn’t that be in the future?” Well, yeah! Because it hasn’t yet happened, has it? It’s probably Jesus using the same proleptical approach that we found earlier. If you learned nothing in John 17, you learned the word proleptical. Because, remember, Jesus says, “I am no longer in the world.” Well, he was still in the world. What does he mean by that? He said that “the absence of me from the world is a done deal.” And I take it that that’s exactly what he’s saying here: “I have sent them into the world.” It could be that he’s referring, of course, to previous occasions, remember, when he gathers the Twelve and he sends them out to proclaim the kingdom of God, or when he at one point gathers seventy-two people and he sends them out two by two into the world. It could be that. But I think it is more probable that he’s using it in that way.

In other words, their commissioning—the commissioning of his disciples—is so certain that Jesus speaks of it as a done deal: “Father, I have sent them into the world.” There is no question about the fact that they are going to be in the world. And so it is the mission of Jesus that establishes the mission of the apostles. He has set them apart to do the will of the Father. He, as we will see tonight, comes to provide redemption, and he sends his disciples out into the world to proclaim the message of redemption. They are sanctifying themselves to the purposes of God even as he himself is sanctified to the purpose of God as Priest and so on.

They were drawn from the world. In 15:19 we saw that: “If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own.” That reinforces the point I’ve been trying to make. “If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own.” Hey, party time! Well, why are you not involved in those excesses? “Well, I used to be,” some say. “But the things I used to really get a charge out of don’t charge me anymore, but I got a completely new charge in Jesus.” “If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you.”

I mean, when push comes to shove, people do not like the idea that there is only one name given under heaven among men where salvation is to be found.[13] They hate that notion. Everything militates against that. At this point in the twenty-first century, people, if they believe one thing, they believe, “Well, there must be multiple ways, but there can’t surely be one possible way.” You hold to that line, they’ll hate you. And we could go down a whole line.

They were drawn out of the world. Here in 17, he kept them safe in the world, he sanctified them in the truth, and he engaged them to the task of mission. That’s why when you read on from the Gospels and into the Acts, you see that this is just so remarkable—that the people… If you were reading this morning in Luke’s Gospel, you read where Jesus looks Peter in the eye, and he says, “Simon, Simon, Satan has desired to have you, to sift you like wheat. I mean, there’s a rock-n-roll show about to take place here, Simon.” (That’s my paraphrase.) “And you should know that I have prayed for you. And after you are restored, renovated, put back together again, as you’ll need to be, then you go ahead and strengthen the brethren.”[14]

Well, on that evening, when his brokenhearted visage is revealed for all in the courtyard of the priest to see, there surely was within Peter no possibility of being that one of whom Jesus had spoken. And yet, in short order, you turn the page into the Acts of the Apostles, and Peter stands up, and he proclaims this amazing, historical sermon that goes all the way through the Old Testament and eventually comes to his punchline—the punchline as a result of people saying, “What should we do with this?”

That’s the real issue, isn’t it, incidentally? You know, this is the “What?” You respond, “So what? And now what?” Because if what the Bible says about our need of a Savior and I don’t have a Savior, then the “Now what?” is really crucial. And so they said to him, “What should we do now?”[15] This is what he said: “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.”[16] Where’d you get that from, Peter?

Or, phenomenally, when you go further into the Acts and you have this wonderful encounter where King Agrippa shows up… Felix has brokered the deal, and the king is there in his position, and Paul gives his defense before him. And at one point this is what he said: “I stand here testifying both to small and great, saying nothing but what the prophets and Moses said would come to pass.” Why did the prophets and Moses say these things? Because God from all of eternity was at work. What did they say? “That the Christ must suffer and that, by being the first to rise from the dead, he would proclaim light both to [his own] people and to the Gentiles.”[17] You see what that means, again, for Paul? He’s a monotheistic Jew. He hated the idea of Jesus and the followers of Jesus. He thought he’d been put together in order to destroy these creatures—until he met Jesus!

You see, when you become a Christian, a number of things happen to you, no matter what age you are or whatever you might be. You get a completely new view of Jesus from whatever one you had before, because now he becomes precious to you. He’s a Savior. He’s not just a figure in history. He’s a friend. He’s a Lord. He’s a King. He’s a companion. You get a whole new view of the people who describe themselves as Christians. You thought they were a bunch of weirdos—and some of them actually were. But the fact of the matter is that you’ve discovered now that these are your brothers and sisters in Christ. And you’ve also discovered that you actually needed what you said you never wanted—namely, mercy. Because you were convinced of the fact that you could do it yourself, you could put it together yourself, you would be fine in yourself. But you don’t believe that anymore. No. What’s happened? The Father sent the Son. The Holy Spirit came knocking at your door.

I’d really like to preach this passage now, but you will remember that Festus—Festus interrupts. You remember what he says? “You know what? You’re out of your head, Paul! You are off your rocker. You are too clever for your own good. You got a big brain, Saul of Tarsus, but it’s gone mushy on you.” That’s what he’s saying. And he says, “I’m not out of my mind. I’m speaking true and rational words.” And then, masterfully, as the lawyer he is, he divides from this interruption, and he says, “I’m sure you, as the king, Agrippa, understand these things.” And Agrippa says, “Are you kidding me? Do you think in such a short time you would make me a Christian?” And Paul says, “Whether in chains or in free, I would that today you were to become a Christian.”[18] What’s he doing? He’s doing what disciples do.

Where We Fit

We should stop. So let’s go just to the third point—but we have a catch-up in verse 19 in the evening, I suppose. What God has done in sending Jesus; what Jesus has done in sending the disciples; and, finally, where do we fit into this picture? Well, we do fit into the picture, because you will notice in verse 20, to which we will come, Jesus says, “I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word.” So his prayer is not confined to the immediate circle of the apostles. As a result of their mission, other people will come to believe, and those people who come to believe and become the disciples of Jesus will then be involved in the same commission. They will then enjoy the privilege of declaring the same message. And as a result, people will believe in the world.

Let me just say maybe three things.

Number one: If we are going to serve Jesus in this way, first of all, we must come to him. We must come to him before we can go for him—that we must come to him as he is: as a Savior for sinners. We didn’t come to him as a religious guru. We didn’t come to him as a person who came up with some good ideas, and we decided that we like his ideas as much as we like anybody else. You’ll never turn the world upside down with that kind of story. No. We must come to him. We can’t offer the bread of life to other people if we’ve never eaten it ourselves.

We must at the same time be filled with the Holy Spirit. Be filled with the Holy Spirit. When, at the end of the nineteenth century, William Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army, was asked, “What are the challenges that face the church in the coming generation?” he had six points that he made. The first of his points was simply this: “The challenge facing the church in the twentieth century will be offering a religion without the Holy Spirit.” “Without the Holy Spirit”—in other words, a man-centered, mechanistic focus on religion as opposed to the transforming power of the gospel.

We can’t offer the bread of life to other people if we’ve never eaten it ourselves.

If you think about that: Here we are in the twenty-first century. For all of our organization, for all of our strategies, for all of our books, for all of our plans, for all of our programs, not one of them nor all of them together can compensate for the vacuum that is left when the lips of those who are seeking to proclaim the story are not lips that are fueled by the firepower of the third person of the Trinity, God the Holy Spirit.

And the great need, it was… If you did your Bible reading this morning, you know. In Habakkuk this morning, Habakkuk’s prayer is the right prayer: “Revive your work, O Lord, in the midst of the years.”[19] “Show up! Show up, God, so that the world might know.” Well, the world will know when he shows up in my life and in yours.

If you imagine, for example… We just listened to Peter on the day of Pentecost. You imagine we went in the bookstore, we got all the mechanisms for evangelism, and we said, “Look, here’s a strategy. You might be able to reach Judea here. There’s a plan here.” There’s nothing wrong with all these things. But he said, “What do I need those for?” Because the apostles hit the Jerusalem streets with a “waft of the supernatural,”[20] as James S. Stewart puts it. In other words, they were carried off their feet by the message that they were given to proclaim. We can’t go for the world without that. The hymn writer puts it perfectly:

My power is faint and low
Till I have learned to serve.
It wants the needed fire to glow;
It wants the breeze to nerve.
It cannot drive the world
Until itself be driven;
Its flag can only be unfurled
When [you shall] breathe from heaven.[21]

We’re not going to a monastery. We’re not going to sail around round and round in circles in a marina. We’re going to go—go home. That’s what Jesus told the one man in Mark chapter 5. He wanted to stay with Jesus. Remember what he said? “Go home.” “Go home and tell all the people in your house the wonderful things that have happened to you.”[22] On another occasion he said, “Go … to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”[23] Driving down South Taylor yesterday in the late afternoon, into the very heartland of Judaism—these people are on our doorstep. There is a veil over their eyes when they read the Scriptures.[24] Only Jesus removes the veil. Only people who know Jesus, who are bold enough to proclaim Jesus, will be able to speak into the people like Saul of Tarsus and tell them the change.

“Go to the nations. Go to the nations. Go home. Go to the nations.” Well, it’s a thought, isn’t it? Because everybody says, “Oh, well, you know, that’s all that kind of Jim Elliot stuff. I’m not that guy.” Or the Billy Graham, you know, reaching millions. Or Gladys Aylward: children’s ministry that made a huge impact in China. Or Helen Roseveare in Zaire. Or whatever. You’re sitting there listening, and you’re going, “I’m not one of those people.” Guess what? Neither am I.

Here’s somebody that might be a pattern for you. His name was Seth Sykes. Hands up, all who have heard him. Exactly. No one has heard of him. God has heard of him. He was a conductor on the Glasgow trams in the late ’40s and into the beginning of the ’50s. He wrote little choruses that he used to hum on the trams. He wrote, for example,

Thank you, Lord, for saving my soul.
Thank you, Lord, for making me whole.
Thank you, Lord, for giving to me
Your great salvation, so rich and free.[25]

He took fares on the Glasgow trams. He asked the authority of the Glasgow trams if it would be possible for him in his routine work to give out copies of the Bible and Christian literature, and they said yes. And so for Seth Sykes, the Glasgow tramcar became a gospel platform.

Consider what God has done in sending Jesus. Considering what Jesus has done in sending the apostles. Consider God’s call to each of us. It may not be a tram car—may be a back porch. Who knows?

A brief prayer. (Tonight is verse 19, God willing.)

God our Father, oh, the immensity of your love! Oh, the triumph of your grace! Oh, the incomprehensible nature of things at so many points—and yet the clarity that comes to us as we realize, “Jesus loves me. He loves me. He loved me, and he gave himself for me.” And so we want, in Christ, to be able to say, “Here am I, Lord; send me,”[26] in order that the task that you have set may be moved inches and inches closer towards completion. And we offer ourselves as servants in that great commission. And in Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

[1] Matthew 24:35 (NIV).

[2] Frank Houghton, “Facing a Task Unfinished” (1930).

[3] Ephesians 1:9–10 (ESV).

[4] Isaiah 9:6 (ESV).

[5] Galatians 4:4 (ESV).

[6] Luke 2:25 (ESV).

[7] Luke 2:29–30 (paraphrased).

[8] Luke 2:48–49 (paraphrased).

[9] John 1:11 (paraphrased).

[10] John 3:16 (KJV).

[11] John 11:25 (ESV).

[12] John 11:25–26 (paraphrased).

[13] See Acts 4:12.

[14] Luke 22:31–32 (paraphrased).

[15] Acts 2:37 (paraphrased).

[16] Acts 2:38 (ESV).

[17] Acts 26:22–23 (ESV).

[18] Acts 26:24–29 (paraphrased).

[19] Habakkuk 3:2 (paraphrased).

[20] James S. Stewart,A Faith to Proclaim(London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1953), 45.

[21] George Matheson, “Make Me a Captive, Lord” (1890).

[22] Mark 5:19 (paraphrased).

[23] Matthew 10:6 (ESV).

[24] See 2 Corinthians 3:14.

[25] Bessie Sykes and Seth Sykes, “Thank You, Lord” (1940).

[26] Isaiah 6:8 (paraphrased).