As a frequent contributor to IN TOUCH Magazine, I was excited when the editorial staff asked me to ghost write a series of articles for Andy Stanley. "The Guys Who Saved Easter" and "How to Be Good at Being Rich" are adaptations of his sermons. I'm proud to say "How to Be Good at Being Rich" won third place in the Cause of the Year: Financial Stewardship category at the 2015 Evangelical Press Association Awards.
The Guys Who Saved Easter
Like a prequel, the backstory chronicles events that happened before the primary narrative unfolds. And while it doesn’t change the how or who or when of a story, it certainly changes the why.
The story of Easter is no different. Surely you’re familiar with the primary narrative: Two thousand years ago when a handful of Jesus’ followers showed up to His grave to mourn His death and care for His body, the tomb was empty. But do you know the backstory?
Easter’s backstory was the proof for first-century Christians that when they saw Jesus walking around in the weeks following His crucifixion, they weren’t seeing a ghost. It’s the proof generations of believers since then have that Jesus actually rose from the dead. The legitimacy of the Christian faith hinges on just one event: the resurrection. And without two unlikely heroes in the backstory of Easter, Jesus’ death might have faded into oblivion without so much as a mention in history books.
Here’s what would have happened: Jesus would have risen from the dead in a mass grave, in a garbage dump, in a valley called Gehenna outside Jerusalem, all by Himself. Gehenna was a terrible place, pungent with decay and burning garbage (so bad, in fact, that its name became associated with the idea of a fiery hell). Historically, when a person was crucified, his body was left on the cross to rot, as a sign of Rome’s authority. Eventually, he would be pried off the cross, thrown in a wagon with other dead bodies, and tossed in a mass grave. No one—not even the family of the deceased—was allowed to mourn his death. It was as if he had never lived. And that’s exactly what would have happened to the body of Jesus, had it not been for two improbable heroes: Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea.
These men, who I like to call Nick and Joe, enter the scene early in the ministry of Jesus. We find them among a group of religious leaders whose full-time job was being good. The Pharisees didn’t like Jesus because He wouldn’t keep their rules. But within this group of religious do-gooders existed another small faction so impressed by Jesus’ miracles that they thought maybe, just maybe, He was the long-awaited Messiah sent by God. But they needed more info.
The story picks up in John 3: “Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council. He came to Jesus at night and said, ‘Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him’” (vv. 1-2).
Nick was warming up to ask the big question when Jesus did that weird Jesus thing we see Him doing throughout the Gospels—He answered Nick’s question before it was asked: “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again” (v. 3).
I wonder how He knew, Nick must have thought. Because Jesus sees inside hearts, He knew that Nick, and everyone in the world for that matter, wanted the answer to this question: Is there a way we can know for sure that we have entrance into the kingdom of God?
And in typical Jesus fashion, His answer was perplexing. “How can someone be born when they are old?” Nick asked. “Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!” (v. 4).
But Jesus wasn’t talking about physical birth. He said, “No one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh but the Spirit gives birth to spirit” (vv. 5-6, emphasis added). He was saying that if there’s going to be a birth into the kingdom of God, then the Spirit of God has to be part of that new spiritual birth. In other words, just as we were physically born to our parents, there is an internal spiritual birth that connects us to God in a way that can never be undone. Jesus’ answer—that you must be born again—shattered everything the Pharisees believed about how to be holy.
“How can this be?” Nick asked (v. 9). This good Jewish man knew the Torah like the back of his hand. So Jesus brought up the story about Moses in the wilderness when the Israelites’ campsite was overrun with snakes. It was a mess. Snakes slithered into beds, biting men, women, and children. Since they couldn’t just pack up and leave, God told Moses to craft a bronze snake and lift it high on a stake; then, everyone who looked at it would be saved. (See Num. 21: 4-9.) Not exactly the instruction he was expecting, but it wasn’t up for debate.
“Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness,” Jesus told Nick, “so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in Him” (John 3:14-15). From the very start of His ministry, Jesus predicted how and why He must die. He, too, would be lifted up on a stake so that anyone who believes in Him—not behaves for Him—can gain entrance into God’s kingdom.
After that, Nick kept a low profile for a time. But he probably discussed the encounter with Joe, and the two no doubt pondered Jesus’ odd teaching, because they apparently kept following Him from afar.
Meanwhile, Jesus continued to teach about belief versus behavior. Spirit versus flesh. Faith versus religion. He continued to heal diseases and gain new followers. The Pharisees grew angrier and angrier until Jesus did the unimaginable—He raised His friend Lazarus from the dead.
Outraged, the Pharisees orchestrated a plan to get rid of Jesus—one that involved betrayal, false witnesses, and an impromptu, illegal court trial. They dragged Jesus to the home of Pontius Pilate, a Roman officer serving under Emperor Tiberius Caesar. Finding no fault, Pilate attempted to pacify the mob by beating Jesus within an inch of His life, but the restless crowd began chanting, “Crucify him!”
“Shall I crucify your king?” Pilate asked. And a shout came from the crowd: “We have no king but Caesar.” This was problematic because now Jesus was positioned as an enemy of Rome. So Pilate handed Him over to be crucified (John 19:15-16).
Nick and Joe, Mary, Peter, John, and the rest of Jesus’ followers couldn’t believe it had come to this—death by crucifixion! They watched Him drag His cross to Golgotha, where the nails were driven into His hands and feet. They saw Jesus’ head rise slowly above the crowd. Then His neck, His arms … And suddenly it clicked in Nick and Joe’s minds. “Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up.”
This is what He meant! This is what He expected! This is part of the story! Surely other scriptures came to mind. Hadn’t the prophet Isaiah said, “He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed” (Isa. 53:5)?
Nick and Joe decided they couldn’t hide any longer, so they did the unthinkable. After they watched Jesus suffocate and bleed to death on that cross, they boldly asked Pilate for His body. Joe took the corpse to the tomb he had reserved for himself and his family. Then he and Nick together anointed Jesus with myrrh and aloe—75 pounds in total (John 19:39). In accordance with Jewish burial customs, they wrapped Him in spices and strips of linen.
As sundown approached, they rolled the massive stone into place to seal the tomb and left without hope of ever seeing Jesus alive again. No one stood outside the tomb, expecting the resurrection. His friends and family didn’t greet Easter morning with a loud “10, 9, 8, 7 …” countdown. Yet to the surprise of even those who’d repeatedly heard Him foretell His death and resurrection, Jesus appeared alive, whole, resurrected.
Faith, courage, and concern for the Lord’s body made it possible for first-century bystanders in Jerusalem to believe without a shadow of a doubt that Jesus had indeed been dead and was once again alive. If Jesus had risen from the ashes of Gehenna and walked into town covered in rat bites and reeking of trash, that still would have been remarkable. But it would have been explainable: He clearly hadn’t been dead, they’d have reasoned. As it turned out, the actions of Nick and Joe provided irrefutable proof that Jesus had, in fact, risen. Without their public proclamation of belief, without their disregard for position or popularity, without their compassionate care for the body of Jesus, this would be a very different story.
And that’s how two guys named Nick and Joe saved Easter.
How to be Good at Being Rich
Here in the United States, most of us have “rich people” problems. Don’t believe me? Ever stood in front of a closetful of clothes, trying to find something to wear? Ever traded in a perfectly good car for another car? Ever killed some time talking on your cell phone while standing in line to get a newer version of the same phone? Ever go shopping just to relax? If you answered yes to any of those questions, you’re rich.
If you’re still not convinced, that’s because everyone defines the word differently—and none of us think we qualify. A recent Gallup poll found that “rich” was roughly double the amount possessed by each person surveyed. In other words, people earning $30,000 a year defined a “rich” person as someone who earns $60,000. For people worth $5 million, the magic number was $10 million.
The moral of the story is this: Being rich is a moving target. No matter how much money we make, we will probably never think of ourselves as wealthy. And that’s problematic, because the New Testament writers gave very specific instructions to rich people like us. In fact, Jesus had more to say about the topic of wealth than about heaven and hell combined. So when we fail to recognize our own prosperity, we miss the crucial instructions about what we’re to do with it.
Great Blessing = Great Responsibility
In Paul’s first letter to Timothy, we find a message directed at rich people: “Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain” (1 Tim. 6:17). Here, Paul spells out what you and I already know—that money can bring out the ugly in people.
When we’re rich, there’s an inclination to think better of ourselves than we should. It’s also easy to treat money like a protective wall. Whenever the rich need something, they simply buy it (or buy their way out of it). But money can’t shield us from everything. It can’t buy salvation or purchase true happiness. It doesn’t make us immune to layoffs or natural disasters. And there comes a time when it can’t buy hope, either.
I’m not saying we shouldn’t have plans that involve money. A savings account, a 401(k), and an insurance policy are wonderful things, but we can’t rely on the false sense of security they offer. I’m just saying that when we have money, we need to compensate for the effect it has on us.
Fortunately, Paul not only diagnoses the problem; he also gives us the antidote. Take a look at the end of the sentence. He says wealthy people should “put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment” (v. 17).
Did you catch that? The way to offset the side effects of wealth is to put our hope in God. Have you met people—whether they’re multimillionaires or middle class—who never put their hope in riches? How do they do it?
Here’s what Paul says next: “Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share” (v. 18). The antidote for the disease of affluenza, or being rich, is generosity! Generosity allows us to loosen our grip on possessions, cultivate gratitude, and realize why we have wealth in the first place.
Wait. Did you assume that all of your riches were for you? Sorry to break it to you. They’re not.
There’s a scene in Luke 12 where an argument about greed breaks out. So Jesus tells a story to redefine the word. “The ground of a certain rich man yielded an abundant harvest,” Jesus begins. The man decides to tear down his barns and build bigger ones to store the surplus. He says to himself, “You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry” (vv. 16-19).
That night, however, the man dies. “This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God,” Jesus says (v. 21). Just to be clear, He isn’t rejecting the idea of gaining riches. He’s denouncing the assumption that everything placed in our hands is only for our benefit. This consumption assumption, as I like to call it, hinders us from practicing generosity. It keeps us from being truly thankful, too.
Giving money away can be extremely hard and may even feel irresponsible at times. That’s because we view it as our money. We forget that everything is God’s in the first place.
It’s like a museum that loans priceless works of art to another museum. Would the Louvre in Paris be satisfied if only 10 percent of the artwork loaned to the Met in New York was cared for and returned? Of course not! They’d expect the entire exhibit to be managed with absolute vigilance. The same is true of God and the money He gives us.
When you view your possessions as 100 percent God’s, generosity has room to flourish. It’s easier to give something away when it’s not really yours. Yet even with this shift in thinking, we’re still tempted to place our hope in riches. To exercise generosity regularly, we need to follow some simple principles.
The Three Ps
Let me introduce you to a way to neutralize wealth’s side effects and nurture gratitude. The first P stands for priority. Generosity won’t happen unless you make it a priority. If you wait until you feel rich, you’ll never start. Even if you feel poor—even if you’re thinking about that overdue phone bill or how you’ll ever afford those braces—you can start being generous now. Because, ironically, generosity isn’t dependent on the sum of money you give.
The best way to prioritize generosity is to make giving the very first thing you do with your money each month. Before the mortgage. Before groceries. Whenever God richly provides income, let your first action be to acknowledge where it came from.
The second P stands for percentage. Remember Jesus’ commentary on the widow’s mite? He said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on” (Mark 12:43-44). Percentage matters more than the actual figure. Think of it like this: If Warren Buffett gives $1,000 dollars to charity and a homeless man gives a dollar, who gives a greater amount?
The Bible has a lot to say about 10 percent, so that’s where I recommend starting. Some people are squeamish about the idea; just the thought of it makes them uncomfortable. (But the same could be said of colonoscopies, and those save thousands of lives.) If you want to protect yourself from the side effects of affluenza, the important thing is to start somewhere—even if it’s just one percent.
The third P stands for progressive. To be progressive means that over time you raise the percentage. If you’ve been giving the same amount even as your income has grown, try bumping it up to 11 percent, then 12, and so on. Here’s why: It’s possible to develop immunity to the generosity of routine giving.
I hope it doesn’t sound as if God wants to take all your money away from you. He’s a giver, not a taker. He didn’t send His Son Jesus to collect from everyone indebted to Him. He sent Jesus to give His life for you. And by calling you to acknowledge Him as the owner of your stuff, He wants to give you the freedom that comes with letting go.
Whether or not we think we’re well-to-do, we serve a God who richly provides. He is honored when we recognize our blessings and give back to Him with gratitude. Ultimately, all that we have is His, entrusted to our care to be managed well. Give freely, then! Because it’s in giving that we show the true meaning of Christ’s generosity to the world.
