You Were There (11/19/11)
Before we can really give thought to what it must have been like to be there on this occasion, we must first seek to determine where there was. To that end, let us consider briefly what we have heard thus far. We know that Jesus had established a habitual schedule. He would be at temple early and remain throughout the day, spending evening and overnight hours up on the hills to the east of Jerusalem. Thus, except in some periods during transit from hill to city, the temple was ever in view for Him and His disciples. If I am not mistaken, their route into the city could have been via one of two gates, and the natural road to follow would have selected that one known as the Sheep Gate. This entered directly onto the temple grounds.
Adding to the picture, we are given to understand that on this day, the whole of Israel, which had been swelling the city’s population, would be present or represented at the temple to have their sheep slaughtered sometime between 3 & 5PM. Let’s suppose a tenth of that population is actually present, as a rough approximation of the number of lambs requiring slaughter this day. And, of course, there’s the lambs to add to the crowding and noise! Were I to take the example of a modern sale-day frenzy such as that we know as black Friday, one imagines that the crowds began quite early, folks queuing for position to get their lamb slaughtered early and get home with the meat.
Now, consider Jesus’ instructions, which begin with ‘go into the city’. Another look at the map shows gates from the temple courts into the city proper. Again, we do not have a specific statement as to whether they had left the mount of Olives yet or not. If they had not, then ‘go into the city’ would indicate the trek from mountain to the Sheep Gate, across the massing crowds in the courts of the temple, and on into the city. In this case, it would seem at least a little odd that Jesus, whose daily habit was to be there Himself to teach starting apparently quite early in the day, would send two disciples off. It makes more sense if He is already within those courts teaching, and bids two of His disciples to go into the city proper.
The other aspect we might consider is that of the man bearing the water pitcher. Set aside any question as to why it would be a man and not a woman doing this womanly chore. Of more immediate interest is when such a chore might be done. It would seem to be a task more suited to the earlier or later parts of the day, when things aren’t quite as hot. This eases the laboriousness of the effort, and also suits the requirements for water in the household. There would be need for water during the day for various reasons, and having water on hand overnight also seems reasonable. This would be particularly so if the following day was a high holy day such as the first day of the feast, when no work beyond necessities of food preparation was to be done.
So, then, we might reasonably suppose this man is bearing water for the morrow, and is thus on the streets in the latter part of the day, which would coincide with the slaughtering of the sheep. While I cannot suggest all of this is conclusive, it does paint something of a picture for us, that the sheep these two disciples must prepare for the meal has already been slaughtered. That would also provide a solid reason for having asked about preparations. We’ve got the meat. Now, where shall we eat?
With that setting, let me consider the state of mind for Peter and John. These are, after all, two of the inner circle. Indeed, one could ask why James wasn’t included as well. If memory serves, this is the first record we have of John on assignment apart from his elder brother. That is something I think I’ve discussed elsewhere. Here, it is John and Peter sent off together, bearing the slaughtered lamb (still whole, so not a particularly easy thing, I should think.)
Consider the instructions. You’ll see a man bearing the water pitcher. Unusual, that. I don’t know that it would have been thought shameful for him to be doing such a task, but it’s out of the ordinary. And, they are told to follow him. How would this man view them? Unless he lived on a major thoroughfare, and had no particular corners to turn between where they met and where he lived, I should think these guys matching his every move would be at least a little disconcerting. But, then, perhaps they introduced themselves on first contact. No, that would seem unlikely. What would they say? We’re with Jesus, and He told us we’d see some guy with a water jug. We’re supposed to have you lead us to your place so we can make arrangements.
Now, this man with the water was more than likely a household servant. He’s not paid to take initiative in a situation like this. His own master said nothing about bringing anybody home. He wasn’t sent to stand with a sign, like some greeter at the airport. He was sent to get water and get back.
Peter and John, of course, have the benefit of having witnessed the Transformation, and several other particularly astounding moments in Jesus’ ministry. So, they are perhaps better equipped than some of the others to accept these instructions without batting an eye. Even so, they are also the same men who were there at the feeding of the thousands, trying to figure out where they were ever going to get enough food for the job. They were not super disciples. They were men just like us.
So, we have this unlikely matter of a man with a jug. We have the added chaos of a city well beyond its normal population in size, with so many here in mandatory attendance at the most important Feast of the annual cycle. So, add to this that there had as yet been no arrangements made for them as regards a location. That is, after all, the question. Where are we going to celebrate the feast, Teacher? One might hear a tinge of mild reproach in that question. For, if arrangements were not already made, then what chance now? And, if they needed to go back out to Bethany and be with Martha and Mary again, that journey needed to get underway soon.
Let us, then, acknowledge that these two may have been just a little bit incredulous at the instructions. Right. We’re going to find some guy with a jug in the midst of all this chaos. We’re going to follow him, and he won’t get spooked by that. And, when we arrive at wherever he’s going, not only will there be a room available for our use – unlikely enough under the circumstances – but it will be set up for the feast already, and without even mentioning Your name, just saying, ‘the Teacher says’, this guy will gladly hand us the keys and make welcome. Right.
One can imagine the lingering sense of wonder with which Peter relayed this part of the story. That lies behind the concluding word Mark gives us, which both Matthew and Luke echo: “And they found it just as He had told them.” Really, that is a statement that ought to have an exclamation point after it!
As unlikely as all of this was, as much as we kind of wondered if maybe He hadn’t lost it this time, He was exactly right. That guy was just making his way back from the well as we came through the temple gates. He practically stepped in front of us. We did follow him, and pretty closely at that, as he made his way through the streets of Jerusalem to his house. I don’t know, really, whether he took any notice of us at all as we trailed along behind him, but he didn’t speed his pace, or try to lose us. And there was that room ready and waiting for us, and the householder perfectly pleased to put it at our disposal. Why he had not long since rented it to somebody I can’t say. He didn’t even ask rent of us for its use. Yes. Just as Jesus had said, so it was. I suppose we oughtn’t have been so surprised by that. Yet, it was surprising just the same. I suppose I shall always be surprised at the things He knows, the things He does.
New Thoughts (11/20/11-11/26/11)
Looking at the nature of the Passover celebration, I find several points I should like to touch on briefly, particularly as it applies to this culminating observance of the feast we know as the Last Supper. To begin with, we might want to consider the term itself. What does this concept of passing over actually mean? I suspect that many, like myself, tend to think of this in a way similar to the idea of being passed over for a promotion. In other words, we think of it as a skipping or ignoring. But, the meaning is very much different. Perhaps the meaning can be sensed by considering one of the verses in which the feast was instituted. “The Lord will pass through and smite the Egyptians, but seeing the blood on lintel and doorposts, the Lord will pass over that door and not allow the destroyer to enter your house” (Ex 12:23). Notice what’s happening there: The Lord will pass over the door, but in such fashion as to become a blockade. That’s the real sense of this thing: The Passover is a preservation by interposition of oneself.
Carry that concept forward to the Crucifixion. We who plead the blood of Christ do not do so as a means of convincing God not to look too closely at our faults. We do not do so as if showing a receipt for having paid our debt, although by His blood He most assuredly did just that very thing. Rather, we make pointed reference to the way in which, by His sacrificial obedience, He interposed Himself between us and our enemy. This is exactly what happened when, by His willing action, He took captivity captive, put an end to death and suffering. Oh, I know. We don’t necessarily experience this as our present reality. We suffer, some more so than others but all in some degree. Our bodies cease to function, or we are painfully aware of those near and dear to us whose bodies have done so. But, we are also keenly aware that this is not the end of our story. Life, that life which matters, continues. For those who are in Christ Jesus, the Paschal Lamb of God, that Life is protected and preserved behind the shielding protection of His blood. For those who are not, life also continues, but entirely to their chagrin and inestimable sorrow.
I shall maintain my attention upon the redeemed, however. For us, there is the reality that the blood of Christ, shed now some two millennia ago, continues to be interposed between us and the accuser of the brethren. And, continue to interpose itself His blood ever shall, until there be no longer any need. “The Lord will not allow the destroyer to enter your house.” In the original setting out of this observance, that house and its doorframe were there in very real physical form. We no longer take the blood of slain animals and smear it upon the doorframe, but then, we live in the benefit of having known the fulfillment of this particular rite. The Lamb of God, Who takes away the sins of the world, has come, has offered Himself and been accepted. His blood, eternal in its essence and thereby in its benefit, has been shed and applied to the doorframe of our house, there to be forevermore.
But, what is that house? It is our very being, for we have become in our bodies the house, the temple, of the Living God. He has of His own volition come to abide in us, and we of our own volition have made Him welcome, have indeed installed Him as Lord and King upon the throne of our lives. He is within, abiding. He is ever with us, our constant companion whether we are inclined to be aware of Him or not. He is here, alleluia! He will never leave nor forsake us. And, He Who is here still fulfills the office of the Passover, setting Himself as shield about us, interposing Himself for our preservation, even when that interposition is between ourselves and our more foolish intentions. If, then, I am the house, what is the doorframe? Might I suggest that the sensory organs suit the case? Eyes and ears especially are often singled out by Scripture as gates by which sin enters into our thought life. But, O! The blood of Jesus! It not only cleanses us from our sins, it is interposed – He is interposed – between us and that propensity for sin. He not only repairs the worst damages of our sinful proclivities but, to a growing degree as we grow in Him, He interposes Himself between us and our propensity for temptation. It is His blood interposed that gives us cause to hear that “No!” roaring in our conscience. It is His blood interposed that is found in the voice of the Holy Spirit within, counseling us against our tendency towards regress. It is His blood interposed that gives us occasion to find victory against those proclivities of ours, and which we hear rejoicing in our small victories. For small victories are but foretastes of His victory (or echoes, perhaps, of what He accomplished once for all on Calvary’s hill.)
There is another bit of misconception that I found exposed to light in considering the Passover, and that is in the matter of the bread of affliction mentioned in Deuteronomy 16:3. I have, in past times, heard this term spoken of and applied as descriptive of why we have certain besetting tribulations in our lives. Some may be inclined to view their every sorrow in life as being a matter of being served this bread of affliction. Yet, there is nothing here to suggest such an understanding. What is being described is a memorializing of what had been done for Israel and why. Seven days you shall eat the bread of affliction. But, it’s not that the bread was an affliction, nor that it was something unpleasant to eat. Personally, I rather like the taste of matzo bread.
The bread was not the affliction. It was, however, made necessary by affliction. Because the Egyptians from whom Israel was being taken were as yet in pursuit during those first few days, there was not time for leisurely meal preparations. If there was to be bread, it had to be of this sort that could be quickly made. So, then, in instituting this annual observance of the Passover, the bread was eaten to remember. It was eaten not so much to remember that seven day period, but rather why that period had been necessary. The seven days were not so much the affliction as an annoyance. The affliction had been happening for years, and had come to a head in Pharaoh’s determination to wipe the Jews out of his territories even as he took advantage of their labors as his slaves. His intention was to work to death those who were currently able-bodied and to see to it that there was no reproduction amongst them by which to replenish their numbers.
The bread, then, takes note of what they were coming out of: a past full of afflictions. The bread also serves to remind of what lay ahead after those seven days: a life of deliverance. Once across the Red Sea, it was clear to all that Egypt no longer posed a threat. The affliction of Pharaoh was at an end even as Pharaoh himself, and his army with him, were at an end. Ahead lay a leaven-free life.
But, what does that mean? For all that, why was God so worked up about leaven in the first place? Think about it: the presence of leaven in one’s household during this feast was grounds for excommunication. Seems a bit severe for yeast, doesn’t it? And, if I read the instructions correctly, it was not just yeast in the bread that was problematic, it was a matter of any fermented foodstuff. I’m not sure if wine would fall under that category, but I suspect it did. After all, this was one of the reasons for the Nazarite vow requiring abstinence from all things grape. It could ferment. It could become wine.
But, what is it about fermentation, a fairly natural process, that offends? It is the fact that fermentation, including the rising of bread dough, consists of corruption. It is a corrupting process, permeating and altering the substance being fermented. And, it is invasive. A little leaven infects the whole lump of dough. Interestingly, we’ve been looking into a need for making yoghurt for my wife, and what does that consist of? It’s a fermentation process, a corrupting, if you will, of the pure milk. And, what is one way by which to make yoghurt? By taking a small portion of existing yoghurt and adding it to another batch of pure milk. Voila! That milk is no longer pure, and within a day’s time will have become yoghurt itself.
This is so thoroughly emblematic of sin, isn’t it? We allow little sins into our lives, and what comes of it? Sin takes over. Little sins inevitably become bigger sins, and bigger, and bigger until we have utterly lost control of the process; until we have lost every capacity to battle the progress of sin’s disease in us. Except that the blood of the Lamb is interposed! There is a wall set in place. Sin may know a time of progress in us, but it hits that wall and it is not only stopped. It is repulsed. From the wall of the Lamb’s blood comes power, an army sent in our defense, and sin is pushed back. In the ultimate sense, sin is vanquished utterly and with finality. This is our destiny in Christ. In the near term, we know the battle rages on, and we find ourselves fighting on one side or the other. At times, we are dismayed to realize we’ve been fighting alongside our sins, aiding them against our Lord. But, more and more with the passing years, we are pleased to see that we are siding with our Lord as we ought, standing fast against those temptations as we ought. Oh, to be sure we still get blindsided from time to time. Indeed, sometimes it’s not so much blindsided as stupid longing for times past. Like Israel in the desert, we think maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go back to Egypt and enjoy its benefits once more, completely forgetting the horrendous slavery that had been the price of those benefits, and the inevitability of death therein.
But, the blood of Christ is interposed! A great chasm has been set between us and that past, not only so that those who are not His may not come to us. No. That great chasm also prevents us from going back to them. Imagine! The very compassion that is to mark us out as brothers of Christ could, by the corrupting power of sin, be used to entice us back to the enemy camp. Oh, I just want to go give some succor to those poor suffering acquaintances of mine. But, once there what happens? We begin to be reminded of old ways, old ‘pleasures’, and we become forgetful of the horrors that accompanied them, of the reason we were so grateful to have been redeemed from these slave pits. Indeed, our God is an all-wise God!
The next aspect of the Passover narrative that I will note is that of the apparent discrepancy between John’s account and the rest. Mark and Luke both state explicitly that the events described occurred on the day when the Passover lamb was to be sacrificed, and both accounts move on immediately to the hour for eating that meal. John, however, places the arrest of Jesus prior to the Passover feast, noting how His captors rushed Him to Caiaphas so as not to be defiled and excluded from eating the Passover (Jn 18:28).
Well, let us state from the outset that all Scripture being God-breathed there can be no real contradiction here. Both accounts are necessarily true as relayed. How, then, ought we to understand? How can we explain the differences? One explanation, which the ISBE takes notice of, suggests that the 14th of Nisan, on which the meal was to be observed, fell on a Friday in that year. In such cases, Pharisaic and Sadducean traditions differed, the Pharisees partaking a day early to avoid profaning the regular Sabbath, and the Sadducees holding to the official date on Friday. Thus, the theory goes, Jesus and His disciples followed the Pharisaic schedule, while the officials, being primarily Sadducees, followed theirs. Another possibility raised in later editions of that encyclopedia suggest that John 19:14 ought to be understood as mentioning the day of preparation that fell at the start of Passover week, as opposed to the day of preparing the Passover feast itself, bearing in mind that the day of preparation was every Friday. This, however, fails to account for the aforementioned comments about the arrest.
What is entirely clear is that the Apostles, John included, viewed Jesus as the Passover Lamb. It also seems pretty clear that the Last Supper was indeed a celebration of the Passover meal, and that it was relayed to the Church as having been so. It is upon this signification that we establish our own observance of the communion, recognizing that in the Last Supper and the events thereafter, the full significance of the Passover was realized once for all.
One might ask why I am concerning myself with this issue at all. Well, first, it ought not to be ignored. It behooves the believer to do more than blithely skip past the apparent discrepancies, to seek to truly understand how it is that they are not discrepancies. Second, there is an aspect of this whole week-long feast that makes me the more inclined to insist that this meal which Jesus is preparing to eat is indeed the Passover meal. Quite frankly, given that the instructions we are seeing in this passage are explicitly stated as being preparation for that meal, I don’t see how there can be any real question. But, consider this: There is another aspect of the feast of Unleavened Bread that might be missed with our focus so fully on the meal of the first day. On the day after that meal, the sheaf of the peace offering is brought to temple.
Why is it brought? Well, it is the first fruits of the harvest season, which coincides with the feast of Unleavened Bread. So now, we have the Lamb of God, come in fulfillment of the Passover promise, who, if this schedule be correct, was slain also as the peace offering on the day following. He is, after all, our peace, the very Prince of Peace. Then, too, He is the first fruits of the harvest, this guaranteeing our own standing as His brothers and co-inheritors of heaven. He is the first-born among many brethren (Ro 8:29), the first-fruits of Redemption, and as first-born, is required by God’s Law to be devoted to God. In the strictest sense, that devotion is indeed a sacrificial matter, which is why the Law set forth the redemption price of the first-born. This, I think, is worthy of a moment’s praise and thanks. Here is our Lamb, our Redemption not from the devotion of the first-born, but from the slavery of sin. Here is our Peace, offering Himself so as to make permanent the established peace which ends the enmity between God and ourselves. Here is the first-fruits of the Resurrection, standing as an assurance of God’s blessing upon the whole of the resurrected community. Indeed, God wrought wondrously in arranging every last particular of this culminating event of history. One can hardly wait to see those arrangements He has made for the grand finale of Christ’s return play out with equal precision.
One other brief point we might want to hold in mind throughout the remainder of this pursuit of the Gospels is that all that remains to be read now occurs between the two high Sabbaths that mark the week of this feast. As these preparations are, if we are correct, on Thursday, then Friday marks out a Sabbath together with the normal Saturday Sabbath, and the following Friday and Saturday demark another doubled Sabbath. We shall see how this information holds up as events unfold. The timeline has already been very confusing to follow during the events of the last week, which is understandable given the amount of turmoil and excitement the disciples must have been experiencing at the time. But, whatever we come to understand as regards these last few days, it must fit the evidence of Scripture.
On a note of thoroughly personal curiosity, I was struck by the fact that the commandment against working on these two high Sabbaths made a very specific exclusion as regards meal preparations. This comes up because we spent some time in consideration of the Ten Commandments at church this summer, and one thing my beloved wife came away with was a firm conviction that Sunday’s meals ought to be prepared Saturday so as to preserve Sunday as a proper day of rest. Personally, I have found that this emphasis on strict adherence leads to as much stress as rest. There is the issue of dishes piling up, and then the impact of facing that pile come Monday. It’s rather like that reality slap that tends to greet us upon returning to work after a vacation. We haven’t really avoided the work of that vacation week. We’ve simply shifted it over to sit atop the normal work of the next week, or worked extra hard the preceding week to get that week’s work out of the way before we go.
Perhaps this is fitting, in our observation of the Sabbath, but if it is truly intended as a day of rest for us, I fail to see how increased stress on either side of it suits the purpose. I am not, at this point, inclined to go into further study as to the originally instituted rules for observing the Sabbath, to determine whether meal preparation was excluded for all observations or just for this specific case of the feast. However, it does keep me mindful that God is a very practical God. Consider the case we have just been considering, where the festal schedule apparently set two Sabbaths back to back on two consecutive weeks. That’s asking a lot in a country at harvest time. It’s asking a lot of a people in a warmish climate without benefit of refrigeration. How practical and considerate, then, that God makes this exclusion for meal preparations. No, you are not required to stack up enough cooking to cover three days as a preparation for rejoicing. On this special Sabbath, normal meal preparations are permitted.
This strikes me as a beautiful counterbalance to our legalistic propensities. We wish to make God into such an overbearing stickler for perfect observance as to allow no deviation. We are, in this sense, very much like the Pharisees that Jesus so derided. We are so concerned with offending God that we neglect obedience. We confuse ourselves. We put moral conflict where none ought to exist. By the same token, we are particularly prone to ignoring the moral conflict when it does exist. Much of modern efforts to discern what Jesus would think of this situation and how He would respond to that one are really nothing more than attempts to excuse our own particular sins, or to condemn the things we are offended by in others. Much of what we do in seeking to be obedient to God, on the other hand, are just as far off base. By our excessive zeal for observance of rules, we manage to paint God as a prime candidate for worst boss ever. We make of Him a micromanager of the worst sort, not recognizing His wisdom, His forethought and His compassion for us as we seek to live humbly before Him. May we, by the precious input of the Holy Spirit, come to a more balanced perspective! May we learn how to obey Him in love, and within the scope of His intentions, which are ever for our good.
If I seem a tad over impressed with the symbolism of this whole thing, I would note Jesus’ own words, as Matthew relays them: “My time is at hand.” It’s not like Jesus is saying that the jig’s up, and He’s going to have to turn Himself in. No, He’s speaking of a kairos moment, a long awaited, long appointed point in God’s schedule. Indeed, we are given to understand that this moment had been in the offing since before the dawn of creation. This may or may not seem like such a long time to God, but to us it’s a nearly unfathomable period. And now, after so long a time after the Fall, the moment is come. It is not the moment of Jesus’ downfall, as much as it will look that way to most observers. Rather, it is the moment of final, decisive victory. That is hardly to say, however, that it will be easy, or that it will be pleasant duty.
There is the sense, in kairos, of a long awaited moment of crisis, and that is assuredly what the Cross represented to Jesus. It is a moment of crisis for Him, the which can be observed in the anguished prayers of His final night. He knew, after all, the whole of what was coming, and frankly the physical torments by which He was to die were the least of the issues. Far worse was knowing that there would come that brief point of absolute separation from the Father, of abandonment and rejection from on high.
I can almost begin to appreciate that pain when I think of what it would mean to me to experience separation from the God I have come to love. It goes far beyond the loss of a loved one. It cuts far deeper, because the impact is that much more on us. Yet, when I consider that Jesus and the Father are One in a fashion beyond any relationship we might have, it is more like being rent apart in one’s own soul. It’s as if one part of me rejected and sought to remove itself from the presence of another part of me. And that’s something I just don’t have the experience to really sympathize with, thankfully. But, it gives a greater appreciation for how deep the wounds were that lay ahead for Jesus. I don’t wish to minimize in any way the physical tortures that He would face. I cannot help but think, however, that in having these always before our mind’s eye, we miss the deeper, more terrible impact.
At any rate, this moment, this decisive moment so long awaited, and of such critical import has come. And note well, it is His moment. We shall each of us face our own moment of crisis, if we have not done so already. Indeed, there are doubtless many such moments in the course of our lives. Arguably, each decision we must make is a small moment of crisis. Each either adds to the validity of our stance as children of God or it subtracts from our progress towards home. Eventually, it could be imagined, subtracting too much from our progress must result in regress, a moving away from God. Were it not for His immeasurable grace towards us, we should doubtless find ourselves on that regressive course away from Him and lost forever. But, He will not, does not suffer us to be lost to Himself, whom He has chosen. That said, I doubt not that every one of these crisis moments, how we weather the crisis and which course we choose, have a great weight in heaven.
As to Jesus and His moment, the weight this crisis bore in heaven is as immeasurable as the pain He would face in the crisis. By His choice of obedience, even unto death on the Cross, even unto being separated so horribly from the Father, from Himself, He achieved an eternal weight of glory not only for Himself, but for all those whom God determined to give to Him as brothers and sisters. The weight of His decisions in that moment, in that crisis echo through all eternity. They bear upon our first parents, Adam and Eve. They bear upon that generation that will be present to see the end. They bear upon every last human being that ever has or ever will exist in between those points. The weight of His obedience touches every life, for their good or for their eternal damnation. Indeed, His moment is come, and because of His obedience in that moment of crisis, because He held to the plan of God when every fiber of His human being wanted nothing but escape, His moment has indeed been decisive. The battle is won. It is finished! Because He faced His crisis and weathered it, we who are called of the Father are confident in facing our own crises, that whatever may befall, we shall overcome, because greater is He Who Is in us.
What marvelous assurance, my God, is found in Your own obedience. What greater cause could I have to be thankful, as I see Thanksgiving on the horizon? You have saved me. You have weathered the crisis so that I may weather my crises. You have already achieved the victory so that I can face my battles in the assurance of Your present help in time of need. It would be easy, Father, to fall into a bit of self pity, seeing the state of our celebration this year, how odd it is, how small. Yet, there is indeed much to be thankful for, even in matters of the day to day. You are faithful. Daily we see it, though daily we have our doubts. In those crisis moments, You well know how easy it can be to lose sight of Who has our backs. Yet, You do. You are there, our Passover, our shield. The mind boggles to consider what we must have faced and succumbed to had You not been there, interposing Yourself for our protection. Thank You! All our praises are unto You, for You are great, You are faithful, You are true. Lord, I owe You my very life, and well do I know it. And yet, You are my Father, my Husband, my Beloved, and You speak of me as Your cherished bride. You invite me to come before You not for the purpose of stroking Your ego, but for my own great benefit, and You grant that I may bring my petitions before You. I ask, then, this one thing: That You would look upon my wife, Your child, Your bride, with the fullness of Your mercy, that You would heal her, my God, of this infernal plague upon her gut, that You would liberate her from this tyranny of the toilet. I find my mind wanting to formulate some grand bargain with You: If You will do this thing, then I will… But, there is nothing I could fill that out with that is of equal value. Nor do You seek to bargain. You know our needs, Lord. You know our situation and our condition. I shall, then, trust in You. Whether You choose to give the answer I seek, or whether Your plan and purpose find a greater good that I cannot fathom, so be it. You are God, and Your love for me is great. Why that should be, I may never really understand. But, You have made it clear that it is so, and in this I shall find my rest.
[11/24/11] This Thanksgiving day finds my thoughts turning from the Passover feast to the One Who fulfills that feast. In particular, there is that which this whole final week has demonstrated so clearly about Him. He did not in any way teach sedition, not against Rome and not against Moses. Indeed, what He taught was fidelity to God’s Law, and as part of that teaching, He taught that fidelity to God’s Law would generally result in fidelity to man’s laws. “I keep the Passover.” That is an important thing for us to hear from Jesus. It is important in a number of aspects, but first and foremost is the fact that Jesus was not a rebel but a reformer. To the many who seek to find a way to lay claim to Jesus in support of their various causes and crimes, I must point this out clearly: Jesus taught fidelity.
Just recently, I heard discussion on the airwaves in which it was attempted to set forth the teaching of our Lord as supporting rather fuzzy boundaries as to what constituted theft. Well, if you’re stealing food to support your family, surely He would have accepted that. Surely, even if He saw it as inherently criminal, He would have offered forgiveness anyway. Of course, there’s no valid evidence for such a thing. The attempted examples, that of David’s troops and the showbread and that of Jesus’ disciples and their gleaning on the Sabbath, while construed as demonstrating condoned theft in truth involved theft on neither occasion. The showbread was given David by the priests who had charge of it. The issue with gleaning was not that it was a taking of another’s property, indeed the fact that there was grain to be gleaned was because God’s Law commanded the field owners to leave some grain for such purposes, that the unpropertied might have thereby something to eat. No. The issue was the timing, the thought that this was work on the Sabbath.
Tying this to another point I noted in this study, here again we have the preparation of food on the Sabbath, and here again, there appears to be support for the idea that this does not constitute work as applies to the day. God’s Law was not given to defy good sense, but to promote it! It was not meant to bear us down under a weight of onerous points of ritual obedience. It was meant to lift us up to God. True, it was and is inherently beyond our capacity to give that Law perfect obedience, but even so, that is not intended to burden our souls with unending grief. Rather, it has ever been shaped to bring us to recognition of our dependence on the God of Compassion, to seek outside of ourselves for the means to be found faithful to His Law. The goal remains fidelity to His rule, and even as we lean fully upon the righteousness of Christ that has been credited to our account, we are encouraged and expected to strive with such strength as is in us to shape our lives in compliance.
Let’s be absolutely clear about this: Faith does not abrogate God’s Law. When Paul stresses that our salvation, like Abraham’s comes as a matter of faith and not of works, this does not come as advising that we cease from works. Not at all! Indeed, where faith is present, works must surely flow as the natural product of faith. No, what Paul indicates is that we must not suppose our works produce any sort of balance of accounts by which we might claim to merit salvation. We shall find no cause whatsoever to boast before the Lord when we come before Him. Indeed, even faith is rejected as grounds for boasting, as Paul makes it clear that even this was something from outside ourselves, something given to us, and nothing we worked up on our own.
I have to say that what has been made of faith in the thinking of certain corners of the Christian community has all but reduced faith to a code-word for works. If we are convinced that we must work up our faith to attain some spiritual end, if we look upon faith as a muscle to be exercised, or a power to be wielded, I fear we have indeed been putting a mask on our works and calling that faith. We can, perhaps, make distinctions as to the faith which is a gift and redounds unto salvation, and that faith which, had we even the least supply of it, would produce miracles beyond our imagining. Perhaps. Yet, it is said that each has faith according to the measure it has been given him. In that, I see that even if there is such a distinction to be made, both the faith unto salvation and the faith to produce miracles are given, not worked up. They are gifts, not merits. They are, whether the same or distinct, something outside ourselves, something imparted by God or else entirely absent.
Returning to this issue of fidelity, though: Our Teacher, by His example, demonstrates the reality. Faith upholds the Law, it does not oppose the Law. Surely we ought to understand this! We serve a God Who changes not. He is evermore the same, and He has ever been the same. He is the perfect Being, in Whom there has never been the need for further progress, and in Whom there never shall be. In the Law, God chose to reveal His character. What He requires of those made in His image is no less than what is defining of His own character. If God is Love, and Love fulfills the whole of the Law, we can see in this a further proof that the Law is a means of describing to us what Love is, and thereby, Who God is.
If we can accept this point, that the Law as given describes the God Who changes not, then it must surely stand that His Law likewise changes not. And, if His Law changes not, and we are those who are not only created in His image but now redeemed by His own blood and adopted in His royal family, then if anything, the strictures to live as examples of His own character ought to apply more strongly than ever. We, who are sons of the royal house of heaven are surely constrained to set an example of heavenly comport. We who are ambassadors of the King are of necessity required to present ourselves as true and accurate representatives of His court. Acting and speaking as His appointed ministers, we must surely act and speak as He would Himself. All of this points us back to remaining faithful to the Law that is our clearest description of His ways.
God in His grace stooped down to impart to us this window upon His character. The ineffable Being made Himself in this wise comprehensible to our finite minds. If He has been so gracious as to impart this to us, how ungrateful we must be when we think to set aside that revelation of Himself as no longer applicable! What may remain a question for us is which parts of that revelation were for a season and which parts were intended for a permanent ordinance. Down through the ages of Christian thought, this point has been debated. In general, there seems to be consensus that a line is to be drawn between the moral and the ceremonial aspects of that Law. Certainly, we no longer go about burning goats and oxen on the altar, and there are other aspects of a ritual nature that have gone by the wayside.
But, what of the schedule of feasts? After all, as we look at the institution of the Passover, it is clearly stated that this is to be an observation unto perpetuity. It is set forth as a permanent statute. Furthermore, as we are presented with Israel’s history, we see that there were periods when the statute was ignored or set aside, and that those periods did not go well for Israel. The times when the Passover reemerged as a matter of fundamental import to the nation are noted for good cause. They are noted because they represented turning points in the national situation, and turning points for the better. The Passover, in its fading and returning, could be viewed as a barometer for the spiritual state of the nation.
In the early centuries, the emerging Christian church felt it needful to make sharp distinctions between itself and the practices of Judaism. Thus, they moved from observing the Sabbath according to Jewish schedule to observing Sunday as the day of the Lord. Thus, too, the day for fasting was carefully set forth so as not to coincide with standard Jewish practice. The same mindset seems to have caused our observance of Easter to distance itself from the Passover schedule. Forget the arguments as to how our religious calendar reflects the influence of Roman politics and a desire to make Christianity a bit more palatable to the pagans. The shifting of the schedule began long before such influences.
In present days, there has been a renewed interest in at least understanding and experiencing the Paschal meal as it continues to be observed by the followers of Judaism. Indeed, there is a certain fever for Judaism in the present day, particularly it seems amongst those with a bit of a prophetic bent. They look to see the temple re-established. They seek for evidence that the old ways are about to reemerge. But, why? Does this make any sense at all? To my thinking, this is of a piece with the question of what the Festal calendar ought to mean for us as Christians.
The standard argument is that Jesus having fulfilled the significance of these feasts, we have no cause to observe them any longer. Being in possession of the real, why ought we to hold to the types and shadows? But, could not that same argument be made with regard to the Law that Jesus upheld in perfection? If He is the fulfillment of the Law, what claim does the Law have upon us any longer? We have its fulfillment. I suppose the same argument could be leveled as to the reinstituting of the old temple practices, unlikely as that seems. Go back to a system of sacrifices when we have the benefits of the once for all sacrifice of the Son? It’s insulting to even think such a thing! Why should we?
But, if it’s insulting to sacrifice after the Sacrifice, ought we to concern ourselves with observing those feasts that pointed to the work of our Sacrifice? If He is the Paschal Lamb, is it not insulting that we would think to find some benefit in this annual observance of the foreshadowing event? Indeed, one might even think to question whether our annual cycle of Christian holidays is suitable. So many of these seem to be but substitutions or relocations of what came before. If Easter is not Passover relocated, then it is something worse. If the Lord’s Supper is not a reshaping of the Paschal meal, then I’m not certain what it is. If Sunday Sabbath is not a remaking of the Saturday Sabbath, then it is an utter fabrication.
I’m not certain that I have anything but questions to offer on this matter. But, perhaps the whole series of questions does point me in a certain direction. If I take into consideration the general thrust of Hebrews, with its emphasis on the primacy of the New Covenant as successor to the Old, then I find a guiding principle that where the New Covenant has fulfilled a feature of the Old Covenant, there is no longer cause to pursue the dictates of the Old. It is thus, clearly, with the sacrificial system which is replaced by the once for all sacrifice of the Christ. It is thus with the succession to the office of high priest, as we have now One Who eternally retains that lifelong office.
How should this apply to the calendar of feasts that Scripture instituted? This must depend by degree on whether one views them as primarily commemorative or primarily prophetic. Assuredly, each of the feast days was established as marking a major point in the unfolding of God’s plan. Most of them (if not all of them) also coincided with critical points in the agricultural cycle. Yet, this did not make them the equivalent of a county fair. There are certainly aspects to these feasts which are more forward looking than backward, aspects that are prophetic foreshadowings of what was yet to come.
That this was understood from the founding of the Christian community is clear. It is there in the imagery of Jesus as the Lamb of God, which we find at the outset of His story. There seems to have been a mindset amongst the early community that with His coming, by His fulfillment of these types and shadows, everything had changed. And yet, everything was the same. God’s commandments did not change because He had come, ergo the things He had established as permanent institutions must continue. Yet, they could not continue unmodified by the reality of Christ. To continue with temporary sacrifices after His sacrifice could only serve to denigrate His sacrifice.
There may be something of that in the shift from Saturday to Sunday for observation. Yes, there was the human motivation of distinguishing Christianity from Judaism. But, is the explanation that for us, Jesus’ resurrection marks the dawn of a new creation, whereas the Jewish Sabbath marked the closing day of the old creation nothing more than a justification for this human motivation? Or was it the Truth revealing itself even in the imperfections of man? I would tend toward the latter view. God is assuredly able to recast our foolishness to serve His purposes.
Allow me to suggest, then, that a similar principle should be seen in the change to Easter and Christmas. The human motivations behind these changes may be suspect, but the power of God is not. If He has accepted the change, surely we ought to do likewise. The Passover continues to look backwards, and in its fashion preserves an anticipation of Messiah’s arrival. As such, it perpetuates the claim that He has not come. We, then, who are assured that He has have reason not to observe this feast any longer. If He has come, has offered Himself, has been accepted on high as our once for all paschal Lamb, interposing Himself between us and God for our preservation and obtaining our forgiveness, how can we be involved with a ceremony that denies His work? Yet, the perpetual ordinance stands. It stands, but its significance and focus are necessarily changed by the work of the Obedient Son. We no longer look forward to the One who will eventually rescue us, we celebrate the clear and completed work He already did. We concur with His cry from the cross that “It is finished!” Everything must stand which God has established, yet everything is changed by His inauguration of the New Covenant. We cannot return to the shadows. We must hold fast to the Real. Faith does not abrogate God’s Law, but the Christ Who fulfilled the Law has made all things new.
I turn now to a lesson for us that is drawn from the owner of the house. It is a very simple lesson, and that lesson points out that the man of God is to be prepared. The rather marvelous nature of the instructions Jesus gives, how they would just happen to encounter this man with his water jars, that there would be a man doing this woman’s work in the first place, that he would not be disconcerted by Peter and John following him through the streets of the city: This captures our attention, and it should. It should capture our attention and point it squarely at God’s sovereign management of the world. So many coincidences, and what can it mean except that there’s no such thing as coincidence!
However, the most amazing aspect of this whole matter may be the idea that there would yet be a guest room, an upper room, that had not been occupied. Think about how much the population of the city was swollen during this annual event. How many families were come not only from the surrounding towns and cities of Judea and Galilee, but from far-flung colonies. Recall the comments on all those foreign places represented at Pentecost when Peter spoke. It was for the same reason: This was a high holiday, and for the Jew, attendance was mandatory. So, yes, there were a lot of people in town who did not live there, and all of these would be seeking accommodations. In particular, they would be seeking, as the disciples would be, a place to observe the Passover. Presumably, they would have these arrangements in place before they went to temple to deal with sacrificing the lamb. After all, that lamb was to have been in their care for some four days prior. Yet, this man has a room ready and prepared.
It is possible that his house just seemed too poor to satisfy most of the visitors. The fact that there was a man doing the woman’s job of fetching water suggests the owner was not particularly well to do. Maybe his house wasn’t in one of the better parts of the city. There could be any number of factors that one could think of as explaining the situation. There is one that applies: But, God! God knew the schedule, and He knew the needs that schedule brought. He saw to the provision. Yet, the man by whom provision was provided was prepared.
Consider: By the time the disciples arrived, that man could easily have presumed that anybody who wanted a room had long since found one. There was no sense having his place all set up for company that wasn’t coming. Might as well just go wherever it was he would be observing Passover himself. But, he’s here and the room is ready. Keep that in sight. The table is out. The cushions are spread for seating. There are doubtless dishes and such at hand on which to serve the various items of the meal, a place provided to roast the lamb, glasses for the wine, and so on. Everything has been set up and prepared.
I’ll put it out there like this: When the Christ came, the man was prepared. When God revealed the need, he was ready and waiting with the supply. Yes, we can, we must point to God as the root cause of this preparedness. Yet, the man who was prepared ought also to have our attention, ought also to serve as an example for our own activity. If Christ calls on us, if He makes the need known, are we prepared? That’s the question this man poses in my mind. Do we hold ourselves at the ready for whatever use God may have for us? We are called to be ready in season and out (2Ti 4:2). Yes, that is said of matters of preaching, exhortation and instruction. But, the same applies to all things by which our Lord is served. When God comes and makes His desires known, we who declare Him our Lord and Master, who lay claim to being His servants, ought to be ready to satisfy those desires immediately. It is no more than a slave’s duty.
Lord, I confess I do not feel prepared as I ought to be. I do not feel as though I could answer Your call without hesitation, be instantly about whatever it is You might ask. There are those things where I suppose myself tolerably well equipped. But, there are so many other areas where the stuff of life leaves me feeling somewhat encumbered. There are those habits of the old man that still weigh me down. There’s too much, Lord, of me and not enough of You as yet. Still, I have known those moments, even recently, when You have given me words to speak and I have spoken. Whether the ears at which those words were aimed heard with any intent to obey, I can’t say, but I spoke that which You gave me to speak. And, if that one did not hear, I did. I heard how those words You gave me spoke not only to this other one, but also to myself. You amaze me, God! How wonderfully You orchestrate these things. And yet, I would that I were more prepared, more willing to set myself at the ready for Your least call. Forgive the sloth in me, Holy One. And, thank You for using me anyway. May I, by Your power working within me, come to this place I find my desire longing for, this place I know is Your desire for me. May I be one prepared, one who is counted useful for Your service.
One final lesson I will draw from this section of Scripture: God knows. Here, I am considering how Peter and John must have reacted as the events of this day unfolded. As unlikely as it seemed that those things Jesus had instructed could even be complied with, they “found everything just as He had told them.” How I can appreciate how this must have struck them! It has so much in common with my own conversion experience. Too many coincidences stacked up like this, too many improbable events foretold with accuracy, everything just a trifle too convenient, and no possible way for this Man to have prearranged it all with so many involved. Yet, it happened. Everything happened. That man with the water jar was there, and I have no doubt but that they did not need to search for him. They crossed paths with him almost as soon as they left the temple. Then, to be able to follow this guy in the crowds without him seeking to shake them, without getting separated amidst all the hubbub of a city at peak capacity! This, too, may have come as a bit of a surprise to them. But, to arrive at the end and find that he has indeed guided them to what may well have been the last empty guest room in the city, and to find it cleaned, laid out, and in all ways prepared for their use! That was just one coincidence to many. God knows! Jesus knows!
Honestly, is it any wonder we find these two men so effusive in their proclaiming of the Gospel? So much they have witnessed. So much they have experienced. We must admit and accept that even with all that, they would abandon hope with Jesus dead and buried. But, it was a temporary matter. Eventually, the reality of this truth would infuse their thinking and their being. God knows. Whatever else Jesus might command of them, whatever else God might require of them, wherever they might be sent and however they might meet their end this truth held. This truth sustained. John, exiled to the island of Patmos, could cling to this fact: God knows. Peter, facing crucifixion could find refuge in this fact: God knows. And, what He knows, He foreknows. What He knows, He does not merely permit but truly has ordained. Finally, we know this: What He has ordained for His own, He has ordained for their good. The immediate effect may not feel good, but the ultimate outcome is most assuredly good. Joseph, looking at imprisonment on false charges, could hardly count his immediate circumstance as good. Yet, when he saw all that resulted from that, all that resulted from such family abuse as defies comparison today, he was not resentful. He did not rail at God and he did not seek revenge on his brothers. He saw that God had indeed been working for good, an amazing good that preserved not only Joseph but the whole tribe of Israel.
And, consider that tribe. As they labored as slaves in Egypt, one can hardly suppose they were thinking what a wonderful life they were leading. As they went through the terrifying ordeal of exodus, even with the presence of God so tangibly in their midst, their thoughts were not really upon how blessed they were, but rather how difficult their life was. Yet, these events led to their establishment as the chosen people of God, settled in the land of His choosing, and achieving a fame far in excess of their natural capacity. Think about it! Such a tiny nation, so small a population; yet how much has sprung from amongst their number! Never mind the Davidic dynasty. Never mind the military victories. This is a people that has had such a positive impact upon a world that hates them without cause. And yet, they remain a distinct minority amongst the larger population. Why is that? God knows!
For myself, I must confess that some of the wonder, much of the wonder of that first period after God had made Himself known to me has long since worn off. I don’t often seem to experience that sense of immediate interference, if you will, that clearly recognizable hand of Providence in action around me. Yet, I know He is active. I know He is with me. How sad, then, that I so often fail to act in that knowledge. How sad that I can still be so easily rattled by circumstances around me. How sad that I can so easily cave in to the temptation to regress. Yet, He hasn’t abandoned me. He hasn’t abandoned my beloved wife. How greatly I need to remain clearly mindful of this. Amidst all the trial and turmoil of life, God knows, and He knows because His hand remains firmly upon the rudder. It is working for good. This shall be seen to be the case, I know not when, I know not how. And, I have no doubt that I shall be as surprised as ever the apostles were, as amazed as Joseph, when we are finally given to see and understand what was good about it all. I have no doubt that I shall be as pleased as I am amazed, to have been allowed a role in that Good Thing.
Lord, this is my prayer today, that You would carve this understanding upon my heart. Oh! That I might grasp this reality not just in thought but in belief: You know. You have not lost sight of us, nor ever shall. You have not left us to our own best efforts, nor ever shall. You are working for good on our behalf, because our good is to Your purpose. Oh, I know that I have come a long way towards holding this as Truth, thanks to You. But, so much remains uncertain in me. So much is transitory, when it comes to accepting that You know what we face, and You care, and You provide, and You will one day cause us to see the most marvelous good of it all. I pray that You would strengthen us both, my beloved and I, as we go through these preparatory trials. I pray that You would engrave upon our character the understanding that You know and You are with us even in the midst of it. I pray that You might grant us the character to be at peace in the midst of it, to be as composed as Joseph, as trusting and as faithful to You. Then I must surely know that it is well indeed with my soul. Indeed, I do know it, but bind up this shaking reed, o Lord.
