Years ago, I had the great privilege of meeting a man named James. He was a magistrate of the Court of NSW. He turned up at my church and sat right up there in the back row, after receiving a serious cancer diagnosis. He wasn’t a churchie but after the diagnosis, he thought he should just take a second look. And when I introduced myself to him, because I was the minister there at the church (I went straight after him afterwards before he could leave quickly), he told me about his cancer diagnosis and he said, “I know you’re probably cynical about that.” And I said “no, I’m the last person to be cynical about that.” But what he said was – this cancer diagnosis has just brought clarity to his mind about what really matters. And he said two things seem to matter most: my family, and if there’s a God, getting to know that. 

At first, he just wanted to talk intellectually. So I went over to his house just around the corner from church, and we had a cup of tea. And we just talked about, you know, philosophy, the Trinity, and all sorts of stuff. But by about the second or third time I went over to his home, he started to compare his legal expertise with historical evidence, which was my great interest, of course. He pointed out that both really boiled down to scrutinising testimony. He reflected on all the massive life changing decisions that he’d made for other people in his courtroom based on testimony. I’ll never forget the day he said to me that he’d been reading the Gospels. And he’d come to judge that they had the ring of good testimony, especially the crucifixion and resurrection narratives. And he told me he thought Jesus rose again. 

So now what? He’s come to this sort of intellectual decision that Jesus probably rose again. At that point the conversation, of course, became more than intellectual. And over the next few weeks and more cups of tea, James came to trust that Christ’s death and resurrection was a pledge that God can breathe life where there is death. That maybe there was more for him than just this one-way encroaching cancer. 

I saw him just a few days before he died. He was in hospital, he was in a morphine stupor and I walked into the room and I said, “James, it’s John, do you want me to pray with you?” And he shot his hand up through the bed sheets and grabbed hold of my hand, and I prayed. It was the kind of prayer ministers are embarrassed to pray. I just sort of mumbled and bumbled and hoped for the best, and by the time I’d finished my prayer, he was back into his morphine sleep. Three days later he died. But I’d say more alive than anyone listening to this podcast. 

At his funeral, which his family asked me to lead, was the legal fraternity of Sydney. It was a massive church event and speaker after speaker gave a eulogy, there were like five or six eulogies. And so many of the speakers were sort of legal experts, and they kept on talking about the way James was known in the courts for having impeccable judgement – that was the expression they kept on using. And as I sat there listening and it was eventually my turn to get up and give the sermon. 

Basically, they’d given me the sermon, and I got up and I said, “you’ve talked about his impeccable judgement, let me tell you the final impeccable judgement that James made: Jesus rose again, the testimony of the Gospels has the ring of good testimony.” Now, I’m not sure anyone at that funeral was interested in what I had to say, but I’m pretty sure it’s what James wanted me to tell them. Jesus rose again. And that was the guarantee for his eternal life.

By John Dickson

Want to hear the rest of the episode?
Check out episode 121: “The Resurrection”