a. Proto-Gospel
[12/22/19]
We must return to the scene of that first crime, and in particular, to God’s dealings with the first criminal. We’ve visited it often enough in the course of this effort. The man points at the woman in blame, and she in her turn points the blame at the serpent. At first blush, it would seem the blame deflection worked. After all, while neither Adam nor Eve were willing to admit their own sin, they at least spoke truthfully in their defense, so far as they were willing to speak. So, the serpent is first to hear the impact of his deeds. “Because you have done this, cursed are you more than all cattle, and more than every beast of the field; on your belly you will go, and dust you will eat all the days of your life; and I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed. He shall bruise you on the head, and you shall bruise him on the heel” (Ge 3:14-15). Now, neither Eve nor Adam walked away from their sins unpunished, but God, knowing already the full truth of the matter, works his way back through the chain of deflection, addressing each participant in turn (Ge 3:16-19). The message is clear. Each of you has sinned. The penalty for sin is death. No excuse can be made, and no pointing of the finger can lessen the penalty.
Yet, there is a message of hope contained here. It lies in these words. “He shall bruise you on the head, and you shall bruise him on the heel” (Ge 3:15b). He, in the immediate context, refers to the seed of the woman. That seed, we might note, is spoken of in the singular, both for Eve and for the serpent. At the same time, we must recognize the use of zera` as a collective noun. It can indicate a specific child or one’s posterity in general. The seed of Israel, spoken of in Ezra 9:2, is still spoken of in the singular, but is clearly meant to encompass every child of every Israelite.
What should, perhaps, capture our attention more in the case of God’s message to the serpent, is that He speaks of the seed of the woman. It is specifically ‘of the woman’. It is not Adam’s offspring that are noted, nor a generic reference to mankind in toto. It is a highly specific identification. I don’t believe it’s simply because it was Eve who was the direct object of the serpent’s actions. It does, however, suggest a rather specific offspring. The seed, after all, is generally attributed to the male, as his role in the act of reproduction. I don’t suppose this was any differently understood even at this early juncture. It certainly becomes evident in short order that they have sufficient understanding of the process to produce children of their own, and they have, after all, been involved with observing and identifying all the animals. They have no doubt learned somewhat of how this reproductive process works.
So, God specifically calls out the seed of the woman, not that of the man; an identification that on its face is contradictory to the general rules of nature that He Himself had instituted. The careful ear must hear that something more than platitudes is being spoken. Something more than a general unease between mankind when it comes to snakes is being indicated. This is, if you will, a prophetic message. It is God speaking of certain (as in assured) future events. In point of fact, it is God declaring the whole purpose of Creation. It is right there in the inevitable outcome of which He speaks. “He shall bruise you on the head.” Bruise is perhaps too gentle a translation for shuwph. It’s hard to day, however, because the term is used but rarely in Scripture, and the references leave room for wide interpretation. It is made harder by the second half of God’s promise. “And you shall bruise him on the heel.”
It is, in fact, the same term in both cases, but is it to be understood with equal force in both cases? I think we could say there is equal vehemence behind the act, but as to result, the impact is clearly unequal. The one strikes at the head, and I would maintain, does so with crushing force. This is a deadly blow. The other strikes at the heel. It may still be with crushing force, yet the blow is not fatal. It is injurious, yes. It has at least the potential to be crippling. But the message here is that it is not final. This is, after all, a curse upon the serpent, not the seed.
Several books can be referred to that will demonstrate the refinement of this prophecy as we proceed through the historical books, particularly the initial history covered in Genesis. Throughout the work, the indicators get more and more specific. It is to be from the line of Isaac, not Ishmael. It is to be through Jacob, not Esau. It is to be the tribe of Judah. But overall the whole arc of history, starting at the expulsion from Eden and continuing right through to the Last Day as it is revealed to us in the Revelation, concerns this message to the serpent. And it is not just the serpent’s punishment and demise that are at issue here, but also the hope of all mankind.
You see, the promised Seed is indeed news of certain doom to the serpent and to all who have chosen to follow his leading. But to those who are the redeemed, who are the elect of God, called His people and He called their God, this is news of great hope. That news finds its focal point in the birth of Jesus, the seed of the woman. Here is a unique case: A child born to a virgin. Here is, uniquely, one of whom it can be said, in fact must be said, that He is not the seed of any man. It is, perhaps, the single most unacceptable message of Scripture, that this Jesus was born of a virgin mother, and it is indeed a high, holy privilege Mary was given to be chosen for this role. It was also an unimaginable burden to bear, for she knew that there was far more to this than simply an inexplicable birth. There would be the general beliefs of society as to how He really came to be born; a shame she must bear in spite of its falsity. There would be the difficulties of properly raising and training this child who is God. How does one do this? How does one discipline God? There would be the unimaginable agony of seeing her boy hung on the cross, His body slashed and bleeding, His pain beyond imagining, and knowing that she could do nothing. And bear in mind, she had some inkling of this even from the outset.
Bringing Him to temple at the appointed time, following His birth, Mary hears this word of encouragement. “Behold, this Child is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed – and a sword will pierce even your own soul – to the end that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed” (Lk 2:34-35). This is no rosy prophecy. He is appointed, but He will be opposed. It’s going to hurt, Mary, to be the mother of God’s Son. It will be a sword to pierce your very soul. But know that god is at work. He will not be opposed by all. Isn’t it something; that Anna the prophetess comes along, as it seems, almost immediately following, and her response isn’t opposition or anything close to it. “At that very moment she came up and began giving thanks to God, and continued to speak of Him to all those who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem” (Lk 2:38).
Again, I am struck by the choice of phrase here. It’s not the redemption of Israel, but of Jerusalem. That seems awfully specific. But for my current purpose, let me focus on another aspect of that message. There were many around looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. It wasn’t just this one aging widow. And Mary was granted to witness this. The sword would pierce her soul, but it would not be fatal. Hope remained.
[12/23/19]
No doubt, what was said of Mary in regard to those shepherds who were first to witness the Child and His significance applied here as well. “Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Lk 2:19). No doubt, there is great cause for Scripture to expend such lengths in declaring the birth of this One. Consider the depths of detail with which Luke walks us through the events surrounding His birth. Consider the research that goes into Matthew’s account. Why so much said about this birth? After all, it was His message and His ministry that mattered, was it not? Oh, these mattered greatly. But it began long before He had reached the age of adulthood according to Jewish custom. It began long before He was born, for all that. It began right about the time that the opening words of the Bible indicate: “In the beginning God” (Ge 1:1). As John makes as clear as He is able, “He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being though Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being” (Jn 1:2-3). He was born there in Bethlehem on that night, however much men may yet debate the year and the day specifically indicated. But He had been the Son of God long before then. Indeed, He has been the Son of God forever. There never was a time, or even a period before time, in which He was not. And from eternity past, this moment of His birth had been ordained, so firmly set in the schedule that nothing could shift it so much as a single moment.
Here is what God had in view when He spoke to the serpent there at the outset. Here was the Seed of the woman, come to crush the head of the serpent, and indeed, the serpent would crush His heel, so to speak. He would instigate the physical death of Jesus. He would undertake, as he had done throughout history, to turn events from the course of God’s plan. How he could have come to think this possible, this fallen angel of such great knowledge and cleverness, is beyond me. But apart from thinking it so, it’s hard to see why he would be bothered to act. It’s hard to see why he continues, knowing himself a defeated foe. Yet, continue he does, and well we know it. And well we do to be mindful of that fact, and guard ourselves against his thrashing about.
So, we have this inflection point in Scripture. We have the message of Malachi closing the record of God’s revelation in the Old Testament on one side of that point. “Behold, I am going to send My messenger, and he will clear the way before Me. And the Lord, whom you seek, will suddenly come to His temple; and the messenger of the covenant, in whom you delight, behold, He is coming” (Mal 3:1). “Behold, I am going to send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and terrible day of the LORD. He will restore the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers, so that I will not come and smite the land with a curse” (Mal 4:5-6).
That last phrase points us back across the whole landscape of Israel’s history as the people of God. From almost the moment of their departure from Egypt right through to the present, really, the record was one of failure. Here was a people effectively created by God as uniquely privileged among all the tribes and nations of humanity. They had the unique honor of seeing God visibly manifest in their midst, of seeing His provision poured out daily on their behalf, and still they feared man rather than God. And still they held to their household idols and fell to worshiping whatever came to hand rather than obeying this mighty God Who went with them in a pillar of fire by night and cloud by day.
No sooner had they come into the Promised Land, albeit after a sin-imposed delay of forty years, than sin once more sullied the nation, as Achan defied the ban to keep for himself some of the spoils of Jericho’s fall (Josh 7). No sooner did they encounter the tribes they were sent to destroy from the lands for their sins, than they began to compromise. No sooner did they settle into that land, than they fell into acting, ‘every man for himself’. The cycle was begun: Sin with abandon until punishment comes, then repent and cry loudly until God would send one to rescue. Lather, rinse, repeat.
But all of this was already spoken of in their presence. All of this was laid out for them by Moses when first they entered into covenant with God. All of this was reiterated when first they crossed the Jordan. Obey, and these blessings come to you. Disobey, and these curses follow, surely as night follows day. Every assault of the surrounding nations had come exactly for this reason: Disobedience – sin. The sending of first Israel and later Judah into exile had come for clear violations of that covenant, and the God of the covenant had, of necessity, maintained His side of the agreement. Do thus, and this shall be done. Yet, ever with that hope held out: Repent and return, and things can and will change.
But I spoke of an inflection point. Malachi spoke of Elijah preparing the way. Luke shows us that very one having come and done exactly that. Gabriel the angel comes to a priest in Jerusalem as he goes about his once in a lifetime duties in the Holy of holies. “Do not be afraid, Zacharais, for your petition has been heard, and your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will give him the name John” (Lk 1:13). Naming rights did not fall to the parents in this case, for the child would answer to another, to God Himself. “It is he who will go as a forerunner before Him [the Lord their God] in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers back to the children, and the disobedient to the attitude of righteousness, so as to make ready a people prepared for the Lord” (Lk 1:17). Look, the callback to Malachi is blatant. The message is clear. We have effectively arrived at the inflection point. It remains, at this juncture, yet a few months ahead, but events are underway that will define the whole course of human history.
History had not gone on pause between these two writings, although God had, as it were, fallen silent. To be sure, there were things written regarding God in those intervening years, and some even attributed their writings to God as revealing said things or requiring them to be written. But the Jews recognized no such writing as authoritative. They were not included in the body of Scripture as Israel counted Scripture, and the wise fathers of the Christian church took their cue from this, rejecting them as well. It was not immediate, nor was it entire. One can still find these texts accounted as scriptural by the Catholic church, and by a few others, but their mythical nature and their propensity for propounding as true that which stands opposed to the truth proclaimed in the rest of Scripture tend to discount their claims of holy origin. They may be useful in their way, as are the writings of Augustine, Basil, Clement, or any other godly man. But they are not Scripture, and as such, are not a valid source for defining proper faith and worship.
Comes the Gospel, though, and the message no longer looks forward to the coming of one to redeem us. It looks back upon His arrival, and proclaims a new covenant, established in His blood. Here was one who lived a sinless life, and yet (the serpent bruising His heel), was put to death unjustly, every tenet of Jewish holiness and Roman lawfulness violated in order to see Him put on the cross, bloodied and beaten, to hang until dead. And even in that, the power of man and devil alike proved weak, as He chose His own moment to die. Then, too, He chose His moment to arise; waiting until sufficient time had passed for all possibility of false burial to have been set aside; waiting until His resurrection could not be mistaken for anything less than full death and full restoration to life. Here is one who has obeyed the Law in full. Here is one – the only one – suited and shown worthy and able to truly redeem and rescue the people of God. Here, as Paul explains, is the second Adam, the last Adam, obeying where the first Adam failed, under circumstances more trying by far.
Here is the new federal head of a new mankind. Here is hope. Here is hope made manifest. Here is hope made certain. Here is payment made on our future inheritance, and here, as He ascends to heaven, is the Holy Spirit given to man, again fulfilling promises made the other side of this inflection point. He is given as a surety, a guarantee if you will, and a down payment of sorts, on that promise. He is given to man not as man’s possession, and certainly not as man’s toy. But He comes as tutor and legal aide, to bring to mind all that the Son of God, the Inflection Point of the New Covenant, said and did, all that He taught. He comes first to those Apostles whom Jesus had appointed as His witnesses – witnesses to His resurrection. They would have the daunting task of first establishing the Church and her doctrines. They would be tasked with relaying to the nations what it was Jesus said and did, causing it to be recorded in writing and transmitted, in order that the Church might have the word of God made sure. And, the Holy Spirit being their ghostwriter, if you will (or perhaps we ought to view it the other way round), we are given assurance that the record we have in the Scriptures are full and complete, lacking nothing needful for our knowledge and preparation for the Last Day.
b. The Law
[12/24/19]
If this Christ is the inflection point of history, the focal point upon which hall of redemption, all of Creation is centered, then what was up with the Law? Was this some failed experiment on God’s part; the plan A to which Jesus was plan B? Obviously not. But the question remains of what we are to make of the Law today, and of its role historically in the development of God’s plan for His people. I want to take that in reverse order.
So, let’s start with consideration of the Law in its giving. In fact, let’s go back before that point, for we know Paul speaks of sin in that time before the Law was given, but for there to be sin, there had yet to be that which could be used to define sin. If sin is unlawfulness, then there was already a law. I could point back to the first few commandments given to Adam and Eve. We tend to think of the one, negative commandment to leave off eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. But there were positive commandments as well; to go forth and multiply, to exercise dominion over all the other creatures of the earth. It’s clear, as well, that from very early times there was understanding of a sacrificial system of some sort; the bringing of offerings unto God. We see it play out in the first sons of Adam, Cain and Abel.
The question before us, however, is why? Why these rules for the first couple? Indeed, why any rules? I suppose one argument would be that apart from rules and the possibility of disobedience, man was not a moral agent at all, but merely a dumb creature, and even less than a dumb creature. Given no need for choice, man devolves to automaton. This is the very claim that is made as argument against the understanding of God’s Providence as utterly defining of events. If God is that much in control, what is man but an automaton? But that degree of control which so offends the proponent of free will is not total. God’s Providence does not require us to suppose that man is incapable of choosing other than as God decrees. Man chooses according to his desires. He chooses compliance to God’s requirements or rebellion against same, and he does so without coercion. God, however, is fully cognizant of man, of each man individually, and knows by design how he thinks. He knows the decisions that will be made and yes, in the sense that He ordains all things, it was not possible that the individual man would choose otherwise. But it must be understood this is not due to coercion of the man but because of the nature of the man.
In some limited fashion, we are all able to manage what we might call a similar trick. With some individuals, under some circumstances, we can readily predict that if presented with such and such a set of options, they will choose a particular one. In some cases, the choice is obvious and requires no particular skill at prognostication on our part. In other cases, recognition of likely outcome hinges on a deep and intimate knowledge of the one who is choosing. But consider: Politicians and salesmen alike play on this sort of understanding all the time. When the candidates are out making their case to the voters, assuming they have at least some minimal interest in how folks vote, they present their views in such light as is most likely to produce in you, the voter, a desire to vote for them over against their opponent. This is part, indeed, pretty much the whole, of that propensity in the politician to offer free stuff in one form or another. Don’t mention the cost, or the mechanism by which said cost must necessarily be paid. Focus on the benefit. Emphasize the lack of need to pay for it at point of use.
The salesman is no different. He is trying to steer you towards a particular purchase. I recall the days when buying stereo components was a thing, and a bit of an art. You would research your purchase, to the degree you were able and inclined. You would be aware, of course, of better, more expensive models that could do far better, but you knew your budget. The salesman also knew your budget. He made it a point to find out very early in the conversation. He would take you to look at what he would assure you was pretty much the best option in your price range, and let you fiddle with it a bit. And then, invariably, he would inject a variable. But come look at this one over here. It’s just a bit more than you wanted to spend, but hear the difference!
I’ll tell you what. You could pretty well be assured that what he had shown you in your price range was not, in fact, the best item in that price range, but a fairly mediocre offering; whereas what he had just shown you in the one step up category probably was about the best that price range was going to do. Eventually, you learn to present your price point as lower than what you really wanted to spend, or were willing to spend. The salesman was happy because he had upsold you. You were happy because you’d wound up exactly where you wanted to be on price.
I suppose car sales are in the same category, although the prices are obviously much higher, and the salesmen, for some reason, always seem a bit less wholesome. But where I was willing to play the game for stereo components, I find the process beyond tolerance in vehicle acquisition.
What about the workplace? The same dynamics apply, and they apply in both directions. The boss has a sense of what makes you tick, if he’s a reasonably competent boss, and will use that knowledge to get you to choose what he would prefer you to choose. You, likewise, have a sense of what makes your boss happy with your work, and willing to grant whatever favor you might be after, and so you do what you know to do in order to steer his choice towards your preference.
We call these things manipulation, and we practice such manipulation all the time. We do it with one another. We do it with God. It can be a great evil, when it is abused. I like to think it can be benign when it is simply a tool of negotiation. It’s part of the social contract. But I also have to recognize that with us fallen creatures, such manipulation is always of a fallen nature. It is corrupt as we are corrupt.
Okay, so what has all this to do with the Law, and what has the Law to do with man restored, and with the arc of history? You know, of course, that we are not the first to ask the question, nor is Scripture short on answers. I’ll turn to my favorite teacher, Paul. “Is the Law then contrary to the promise of God? May it never be! For if a law was given which was able to impart life, then righteousness would indeed have been based on law. But the Scripture has shut up everyone under sin, so that the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe” (Gal 3:21-22). Whoa! Do you see it? The Law, for all that it defined holiness and declared to us God’s expectations of us, was not given to impart Life. It was incapable of imparting life because we were inherently incapable of obeying the law. The Law was given, dear ones, to ‘shut up everyone under sin’.
That sounds perverse, doesn’t it? Why would holy God, who cannot so much as abide the presence of sin, undertake to give to man that which would have the effect of ensuring that not one single individual amongst all mankind could ever hope to walk free of sin? But the answer is right there. “So that the promise by faith in Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe.” It requires us to shift our attention just a bit, and stop thinking like we are the center of creation, and its primary purpose in existing. We are not. We may be the crown of creation, but we are not the point. God is the point. God’s glory made manifest is the point. And God’s glory is made manifest in the person and the achievement of the Christ: God made man, God with us.
Paul continues. “But before faith came, we were kept in custody under the law, being shut up to the faith which was later to be revealed. Therefore the Law has become our tutor to lead us to Christ, so that we may be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer under a tutor” (Gal 3:23-25). Now, as writing to the Galatians, Paul is addressing a propensity on their part to pay heed to those come out from Judea insisting that Christians were yet bound to compliance to the whole Law of Moses – not merely the moral code we have condensed in the Ten Commandments, but the whole ceremonial and civil components of the Law as well. Christians, they insisted, must still be circumcised, at least the males. Christians must adhere to the myriad rules governing clean and unclean; must adjust their diets to the strictures of Mosaic Law; must suit their travels and their schedules to give proper attention to the feasts prescribed by Mosaic Law. They must in all ways be like the Jews, like those Gentiles who had become god-fearers under the older order. But that’s not what faith required. It’s not what faith requires now.
Faith opens our eyes to what has been true all along. The Law was an unattainable standard in our own strength. It remains an unattainable standard for we remain in our as yet unredeemed bodies with their fallen nature. We having been born with the seed of sin are sinners from conception. We are born guilty, and our guilt remains against infinite, eternal, perfect in holiness God. We cannot arrive at righteousness, for we were in effect doomed from the start. The Law was not intended to save, but to make clear to us our condition. Here’s the standard. It doesn’t change. It doesn’t apply on the curve. It is the perfect standard of the One Who will judge all mankind. Do thou measure yourself and see how you stand up to that perfect rule.
Yes, a first-order response to that stimulus must surely be despair. If this is what is required, and every and any violation is effectively beyond redress, then I doomed from the start. But there remains a second-order response. There remains a recognition of the God revealed in this rule of the Law. If He is indeed holy and good and just and true, then there is, of necessity a path to Life revealed here. It’s just not revealed as our own perfect compliance. The Law, not merely in the hindsight of the Gospel, but from inception, was given as a tutor. Yes, it is a good and perfect guide to Life, but we are not a good and perfect people. If we were, we should have no need for any law, let alone this holy dictate. But the Law was given. Governance was given to coerce, if you will, compliance to the Law. “It is a minister of God to you for good” (Ro 13:4a). That same applies to the Law of Moses in all its application. It is a minister of God to you for good. To the degree that you are able to abide by its dictates, it shall indeed promote your good. To the degree that you are unable, its curses must apply.
From the outset, it has to be observed that man, if he recognized the truth of the matter, had to look elsewhere for hope. Those who looked to the Law with some idea of being able to comply with its terms were misguided in their self-assessment, if not in their pursuits. The Pharisees are, of course, the prime example. They began with high hopes and high standards. If this is what God requires, let us set our boundaries such that we never so much as draw near to those places where He has drawn the line. But the end result of this was nearer the mindset of the ship’s lawyer. Rather than producing a caution against offending God, it produces a tendency to seek the loophole, to see how far one could go without blatant violation. And thus, this high-minded effort had devolved, by Jesus’ day, to the point where they would suppose that devoting all their worldly goods to the temple – albeit at some future date when they would no longer have need of same – provided cover for neglecting the care of their own parents. Thus, they could look upon the healing, the imparting of life to a man or woman as sinful because it happened on the Sabbath, even though they would assuredly move to rescue their own animals on the Sabbath, should the need arise.
I again think of the devout Jewish gentleman of my acquaintance many years back. He was scrupulous as to not working on the Sabbath, wore his prayer shawl at all times, the tassels carefully visible below the hem of whatever outer garb he might have on. He would speak of the need for properly observing the Sabbath; that even the turning off and on of lights must be counted as work, and therefore avoided of a Sabbath. Now, we might observe the rather silly notion that flipping a switch would be seen as work, but then, they thought Jesus forming a ball of mud from dust and spit was work, so it’s certainly nothing new. But what really got me was the solution arrived at for this dilemma. Rather than recognize that what was under consideration could hardly be accounted work, and even if it were, must surely be accounted the sort of thing permitted as necessary to the day, they hired servants to come do the lights for them. But this, dear ones, violates a greater law, that this Law they sought to follow was both ‘for you, and the stranger among you’. I.e. it was never going to be enough to achieve personal compliance by requiring somebody else to break the Law on your behalf. But such is our nature that we will account it so.
I think as well of that example from the Gospels; the young ruler who came with a question. “Good Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” (Lk 18:18). Jesus brings the Mosaic Law to bear. “You know the commandments, ‘Do not commit adultery, do not murder, do not steal, do not bear false witness, honor your father and mother’” (Lk 18:20). That’s pretty much the whole second table, apart from covetousness. And how does this young man respond? “All these things I have kept from my youth” (Lk 18:21). Here, I appreciate the multiple witnesses God has arranged to these events, for Mark informs us, “Jesus felt a love for him” (Mk 10:21). It wasn’t pity He felt, or disgust with such self-deception. Really? You’ve kept all these, have you? My, what a shallow understanding of them you must have, to think that true. Perhaps you have tried. I’ll grant you that. But, true compliance? You clearly haven’t so much as considered the idea. But no. Jesus does tear down. He teaches. “One thing you still lack; seal all that you possess and distribute it to the poor, and you shall have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me” (Lk 18:22).
The answer is twofold, or perhaps threefold. The first requirement Jesus sets upon him speaks directly to his weakness, his inability to truly comply with the Law. You’ve done the bits that come easy to you. Now it’s time to truly have compassion on your neighbor, to truly fulfill that chief commandment of the second table – love your neighbor as yourself. That was too much. The second aspect is true answer to his original question. What shall you do to inherit eternal life? “Come, follow Me.” It’s really the only answer. It always was. The third, shall we say subliminal message is this: Following the Law was never going to get you there, even if you could. Following the Law is never going to get you there, because you can’t.
This was truly shocking news in the age of the Pharisees, so proud of their upholding of the Law, at least as they had managed to redefine it. But it wasn’t news to the righteous. All through the ages, those who had drawn near to God found themselves wanting, found the Law impossible, found a need to look beyond, to some other who could and would save. And all through the ages, God had seen to it that the Promise of just such a Savior remained in view, however great the present failure, and however needful the corrective punishment.
c. The Prophets
[12/25/19]
This brings us to the role of the prophets in this historical course. To be sure, they served as legal representatives of God. They are often spoken of as covenant prosecutors, bringing the sins of the people to light by proclaiming once again the covenant terms, by observing succinctly just how the actions of God’s people traduced that covenant, and also declaring with certainty the necessary fallout of such breach of covenant. Justice, God’s perfect Justice, demanded it. There must come a reckoning, and there would, for God is faithful.
But the prophets did more than rale against the sins of their countrymen. They did more than announce doom and despair. Alongside the news of judgment came news of hope. The judgment was not to be final, but rather a disciplinary action, in order that the faithful might once more come to faithfulness.
We don’t generally consider Job a prophet, yet even in his story, the earliest written portion of Scripture, as I am given to understand, there is this prophetic note struck. Here is a man swallowed in grief which, as he sees it, is undeserved. It took him awhile to arrive at the understanding that all have sinned, but along the way we get this most prophetic word. “As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last He will take His stand on the earth. Even after my skin is destroyed, yet from my flesh I shall see God; whom I myself shall behold, and whom my eyes will see and not another. My heart faints within me!” (Job 19:25-27). Observe. He was already experiencing the destruction of his flesh, however temporary those afflictions may have proven to be. He was, I think, slowly coming to grips with his sin. It would take a while yet, and the false accusations of his false friends weren’t helping matters. By overstating the case, they effectively pushed him farther from Truth. But Truth will have its say, and He did.
Think about it. On what basis was Job looking for a Redeemer? The only cause we might point to is that proto-evangelon of God’s word to the serpent. “He will crush your head.” There would come an and to this sin-enslaved existence. But, as Job also recognizes with no apparent reason to do so, life goes on after the death of this physical body. My skin will be destroyed, yet from my flesh I will see God. That’s a rather prophetic message in its own right, given that there was no prior experience on which to base such a statement. Did he think himself another Enoch, perhaps? I should think the present sufferings of his body put paid to any such delusions. But he saw something. He saw the Son coming in some future day. He saw that death must come as penalty for breach of covenant. But he also saw that this was not the end of the road, only a transition point. This flesh must be destroyed, tainted with sin as it is, but yet, from his own flesh, with his own eyes, he would see God.
Well, here’s one thing that does seem to have been common knowledge amongst the descendants of promise. No man can see God and live. God had made that perfectly clear to Moses (Ex 33:20), and it was something well understood by those who followed. Job may have come before Moses. Yet, the understanding is, I think, something visceral, something inherently clear to us. God is perfect holiness. We are near-perfect sinfulness. If God, Who is all-powerful, cannot tolerate so much as the presence of sin, then our presence before Him must necessarily result in our eradication. “No man can see Me and live!” Yet, here is Job saying, “I shall see God. I myself shall behold Him.” Is it any wonder he follows that recognition with the stunned exclamation, “My heart faints within me!”? The thought of standing face to face with God ought rightly to cause any man’s heart to faint within him. Malachi observed much the same. “Who can endure the day of His coming? Who can stand when He appears? For He is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap” (Mal 3:2). He will purify, but that purification could as readily leave nothing behind.
I observe that I have just looked at what is likely the earliest prophecy and one that is effectively the last, and the message is much of a piece. One is coming, and when He comes, it will be a purifying act. There will be judgment, but judgment in pursuit of purifying. That refiner’s fire of which Malachi writes is not something pleasant to experience. It is high heat and it exposes all the imperfections in the metal, causing them to come to the surface. But they come to the surface so as to be sloughed off and disposed of. It is a painful process, but with a particularly beautiful result. “He will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, so that they may present to the LORD offerings in righteousness” (Mal 3:3). And there is this note of, not really compassion, but assurance at least. “For I, the LORD, do not change. Therefore you, O sons of Jacob, are not consumed” (Mal 3:6).
See, this is our hope. God keeps His promises, even though man does not. Salvation comes because He has promised salvation. The Redeemer comes, because God has had this in view from before the beginning. It’s not that we have earned escape. It’s solely that God has provided release. The Redeemer does not come to rescue the righteous, for the righteous, could they be found, would have no need of rescue. It is the enslaved and imprisoned who have need of one to redeem them. This does not excuse us of our disobedience while we await rescue, nor does it relieve us of our duty of righteousness as sons of God. It gives us hope. It presents us with the Gospel, the great good news that from the outset there was baked into the plan of Creation a day – a day like no other, a day to be marked for all eternity – that day when it should be learned that the Redeemer was not coming. He was here.
That message had been there for long ages. Moses pointed forward to it. “The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your countrymen, you shall listen to him” (Dt 18:15). Even Balaam, hardly a paragon of righteousness, could not help but see this glorious moment foretold. “I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near. A star shall come forth from Jacob, a scepter shall rise from Israel, and shall crush through the forehead of Moab, and tear down all the sons of Sheth. Edom shall be a possession, Seir, its enemies, also will be a possession, while Israel performs valiantly. One from Jacob shall have dominion, and will destroy the remnant from the city” (Nu 24:17-19). There may or may not have been immediate fulfillment of that prophecy, but be that as it may, the message points forward to another time, to another who is not, at that juncture, near. “A star shall come forth from Jacob.” That very star is found prominently on display at the birth of our Savior, the coming of that one whom Balaam foresaw. Here we discover the basis for those magi to come traveling from out of Babylon. They had heard this message passed down, and they, unlike the faithless rulers of Israel at that day, recognized the significance of this event. The King was born. The Psalmist knew of His coming. “’But as for Me, I have installed My King upon Zion, My holy Mountain.’ I will surely tell of the decree of the LORD: He said to Me, ‘You are My Son. Today I have begotten You’” (Ps 2:6-7).
Isaiah saw it as well. Here he was, so many centuries later; Moses long in the grave, Israel in disarray, and the people of God not all that distinguishable from the surrounding nations, for all their sinfulness. Things did not look good for God’s plan. But then, God’s plan doesn’t much care how things look. God’s plan stands. Isaiah had plenty to say as to the punishment due for sins, and the inevitable reckoning that lay ahead, both for Israel and for those surrounding nations. But he also saw that this was not final judgment. “For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; and the government will rest on His shoulders; and His name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace. There will be no end to the increase of His government or of peace, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and righteousness from then on and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will accomplish this” (Isa 9:6-7).
Look at that. God’s going to do it. Not man’s zealousness for God, but God’s own zeal for Himself. This is a kingdom with no end. Nobody could look upon the state of the Davidic dynasty and suppose there would arise amongst his line anybody sufficient to that outcome. Samuel had prophesied from the outset what would come of having a king, ‘like the nations around us’. It could only result in a nation, ‘like the nations around us’. It was a program certain to fail. It was seeking a redeemer amongst the sons of Adam, where none could possibly be found because all had sinned. But the prophets saw the covenant faithfulness of God, and they saw that the solution must lie with Him. He would not leave His own to perish in their futility. He did not do so with Job. He would not do so with any whom He had created as vessels for glory.
We could continue the survey, even expand it to include all the prophetic texts in detail. The same picture emerges, for they speak with one voice given them by one God. Whatever the present-day appearances, whoever the latest hero, the best you can hope for from that one is temporary reprieve. Your hope is not in any man, but in the God-man alone; in Christ Jesus.
This being Christmas day, I would be inclined to add, “born this happy morning.” Is the date certain, or even likely? For all the effort that’s gone into proving or disproving the date chosen to celebrate the birth of this One foretold from the beginning, I think the answer has to be, who knows? The simple fact is that there can be no more certainty that the date is wrong than there is that it is right. We can point to the circumstances that led to the Church selecting this date and see the hand of man perverting the course of true faith, or we can see the God of Truth so using the machinations of sinful man as to bring about His desired end. Given the full record of humanity laid out for us in the historical arc of Scripture, which is more likely? If God is indeed all powerful (and I am quite certain He is), is it really likely that He would let such a perversion of worship stand for long? I grant you that many a perverse church has stood for centuries without redress, and there’s certainly enough falsity in religious pursuit today, even in purportedly Christian religious pursuit. But this day, which some would say we ought not to celebrate, having no biblical mandate to establish an annual feast in honor of the Son, is certainly a day that rings out through the entirety of Scripture. It’s been announced since Genesis 3. It is reflected upon right through to Revelation 22. “He who testifies to these things says, ‘Yes, I am coming quickly’” (Rev 22:20). He who testifies is He who was foretold from the outset, the seed of the woman, the Redeemer, Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace.
In that moment, on that night in Bethlehem, against all odds, as man might suppose to measure it, every prophecy was being fulfilled. “But as for you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you One will go forth for Me to be ruler in Israel. His goings forth are from long ago, from the days of eternity” (Mic 5:2). As was relayed to us in brief this last Sunday, the events required to bring about the presence of Mary and Joseph, there in Bethlehem when they lived in relative poverty some eighty odd miles away in Nazareth, and to have them there at just such time as Mary was ready to give birth, were beyond the capacity of any man, or even any conspiracy of men, to bring to pass. Yet, here it was. The Son of God was born, with much fanfare, albeit a fanfare out in the countryside where only the least respected of Jewish society would notice. Shepherds ran in from the fields to celebrate this birth. Foreigners came trekking from Babylon to honor the One who had been born. All of history shifted as if hit by an earthquake in that moment of His birth. God broke through. Immanuel, God with us, had become reality, taking on real flesh and blood, born under the Law in order to redeem us from the Law. The Redeemer is come, and shall we not celebrate? All heaven celebrates! All creation sings! Who can refuse to join the chorus, who loves the coming of this Son?
d. The Gospel
[12/26/19]
We come to the gospel itself in the opening pages of the New Testament. We are blessed to have four distinct accounts of this brief but critical period in history, each showing us the wondrous good news of Messiah’s birth, life, and death. Matthew begins his work with an accounting of the genealogy that brought us from Abraham to Jesus. There are, I believe some names elided from the list to suit Matthew’s desire to show three sets of fourteen generations. Why he felt this to be important I cannot say, but writing for a Jewish readership, he knows the evidence of lineage is needful to his readers. To be clear, this is a proper Jew from the proper lineage. He descends from the royal line, although there’s little enough in his birth narrative to suggest it.
This choice of introduction serves a second purpose. It focuses us on that purpose God has been pursuing throughout Creation. It prepares us to see this crucial act unfolding not as some isolated incident, but as a moment foretold. Abraham had seen it coming, if not with any great clarity. David, the great king, had received promise of this day gladly. At the same time, there are many in that genealogical list who come as something of a surprise to find in the lineage of the Son of God. We find Rahab and Ruth, both married into Israel from without. We find Bathsheba, the wife David stole from Uriah. We find Ahaz and Manasseh, kings, yes, but hardly to be commended for their actions as king. And then we find generations of individuals unknown except for this inclusion in the lineage of Jesus, the son of God, born to Mary.Of course, this is Joseph’s lineage, given the patriarchal nature of Jewish society, and so we do not find a biological linkage here, but it is an official legitimate linkage nonetheless, as concerns fulfilling the promises of God, and the prophecies made in revealing those promises. No sooner has Matthew relayed to us the parental legacy of Jesus than he points us back to the prophets. “Now all this took place to fulfill what was spoken by the Lord through the prophet: ‘Behold, the virgin shall be with child and shall bear a son, and they shall call His name Immanuel’, which translated means, ‘God with us’” (Mt 1:22-23). Throughout his account, Matthew repeatedly turns our attention upon those prophetic fulfillments, lest we miss the connection. This is God’s working, of course; as with the fulfillments themselves, so with the record. He is determined that His people know what it is that has come to pass. He is determined that His people know Him, know hope.
Luke also provides us with a genealogy of Jesus, this time proceeding right on back to Adam. That said, there are differences in the line, and this we attribute to Luke’s propensity for highlighting the involvement of women in the life and work of Jesus. The general assumption is that he traces Mary’s lineage even though he presents us with Jesus ‘as was supposed, the son of Joseph’ (Lk 3:23). That is our tell; that while he follows the tradition of listing fathers, it is actually the mother whose line he traces, because hers is more applicable. Our Luke is, after all, a physician. The Jews may find paternal linkage more to the point, but he understands, given the virgin birth, that Joseph’s lineage can only be symbolic. Mary’s, on the other hand, has some real contribution to the human life of the Son. It’s interesting to see, in quick observation, that this lineage bypasses Bathsheba, bypasses Ahaz and Manasseh. Up until David, the lines match, but then we have divergence. Luke takes us down the line of Nathan. As to Nathan’s mother, we are not told, but he is one son among many born to one wife (or possibly concubine) among many, while David dwelt in Jerusalem (2Sa 5:13-16).
The lines join briefly in the period of the exile, and then diverge once more. But the lines are not of particular value except in that they show the legitimacy of Jesus as fulfilling the prophecies foretelling His coming. They also present us with a few focal points to observe the length of the planning that has gone into this event. In Luke’s case, we’ve been taken right back to the start in Adam. In both cases we find ourselves at critical moments in the covenant relationship of God with His people. We are there with Abraham, to receive the covenant promises, and attendant curses for failure. But it is the promise that is in view. Here, through Abraham, and even more specifically through Isaac, the son of promise, shall come the Redeemer for Israel, in Whom all the nations of the world shall be blessed. We are there with David, the man after God’s own heart, who himself heard a promise of stunning scope. From his line would come the King. This was far more than the establishing of a dynasty. That dynasty, after all, proved none too sterling for the most part, and that dynasty, in human history, had long since come to an end. But David saw farther than the kingdom he passed to Solomon. He saw farther, even than Zerubbabel gone into exile. He saw farther than the return of Israel to the land under Ezra’s and Nehemiah’s guidance. He saw this One who was born in lowliest circumstances, in a backwater town outside Jerusalem, to a backwater couple of such limited means that they could only offer the poorest of offerings to mark His birth.
This is the true import of those genealogies; not that they declare to the Jews a legitimacy to Jesus’ lineage, but that they focus our attention on the whole course of history coming up to this point. They make plain that everything that Scripture had spoken about to date was coming together in this critical moment. The promise to Adam? Fulfilled here and now. The promises to Abraham? Fulfilled here and now. The promises to David? Fulfilled here and now. The hope that sustained Israel in exile? Proven and fulfilled here and now. Here is the Seed, the Promised Redeemer, the true King. Here is that One whose coming even Balaam saw, and because he saw, came men out of Babylon or Persia to pay homage to the King whose own people did not recognize Him.
This is repeatedly the message of the gospels in all four variations. It is the least likely individuals who are quickest to lay hold of the hope set before them in Jesus. It is the foreign magi, the unwelcome shepherds, poor Mary and Joseph from the overrun half-Gentile regions north of Samaria. It is widows, lepers, prostitutes, and all sorts of folk whom the proper pieties of Israel accounted less than nothing. But then, the proper pieties of Israel accounted Jesus Himself less than nothing; no more than an annoyance to be swatted away lest He disrupt their powerful positions.
All of this hope revealed, however, leads us to a moment of crushing, devastating loss. This One whose coming was from of old, come to save God’s people, is betrayed by one of His own followers. How could this be? He has fallen into the hands of those very proper pieties, who demonstrate their impiety in the rush to judgment, and the corrupting of every rule of their supposedly sacrosanct religiosity to see Him condemned. He has fallen into the hands of Roman law, escape from whose inescapable grip was the dream of every Jew. If He was not come to throw off Roman rule, what exactly was the point of Him being here at all? And so, the adoring crowds joined together with offended officialdom to call for His death. The charges might be ever so baseless, but let Him die. To the powerful, He represents a threat to power. To the powerless, He represents a failed revolution. To the faithful, He represents an enigma at best, hopes seemingly snuffed out as He makes His agonizing way to the cross. Even to the last, they stand watch, waiting for that miracle by which He would come down, strike His enemies, and bring back the kingdom of Israel to power. But that wasn’t His purpose. The cross was His purpose.
For this He had come, and for this He would persevere, for in no other way could the wrath of God be satisfied, and the penalty for the sins of God’s people be paid in full. In no other way could any son of Adam have hope of being found a child of God. The Lamb’s Book of Life would be a blank page, not even Enoch or Noah or Moses or Elijah found thereupon, except Jesus face down every temptation to find a more comfortable way to power, as He had done in the desert (Lk 4:1-13); every temptation to call it quits, to give up on the mission. And so, though He sweat blood in the anguish of His persistence there in the Garden of Gethsemane, yet, “for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb 12:2). Here is both the author and the perfecter of faith.
That crushing blow to hope was in fact its fulfillment. It was in those briefest days of His death and His resurrection that the whole work of Creation came to fruition. Apart from this is no man saved. By this is every man saved who is saved. “All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being. In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men” (Jn 1:3-4). Those words conclude John’s callback to Genesis as he opens his own account of this marvelous Jesus. To those who believe, He observes, “He gave the right to become children of God […] who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God” (Jn 1:12-13). That is the gospel message, the arc of history come to its sharp, singular focal point. Those other moments of convergence we observed; the calling of Abraham, the anointing of David, the exile and the return: All of those were but foreshadowing events, pointing us to this One who would come. The whole story of the Old Covenant, the whole story of Israel, and in reality, of all mankind, had been preparation for this singular moment, this singular act: The Son of God – God Himself – come down to live as a man, to die as a man, to offer His perfect, eternal life as payment for the eternal consequences of sin in the lives of His people.
e. Propitiation
[12/27/19]
This brings us rather neatly to the point of the cross, the reason of Creation, of history, the salvation and redemption of man. It is this one, unique moment that defines the whole. Consider that this most crucial event in all human history occupied the space of perhaps a day, if accounted from the moment of Jesus’ arrest to the moment of His death on the cross; a matter of hours, really, if measured strictly by the events of the cross. “From the sixth hour darkness fell upon all the land until the ninth hour. About the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, ‘Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?’” (Mt 27:45-46), “And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice, and yielded up His spirit” (Mt 27:50).
This portentous moment was announced by that sudden darkness come upon the land mid-day. Three hours, I observe, is far longer than one might account for by an eclipse. Nor was this the only event to mark the seriousness of the moment. “The veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom; and the earth shook and rocks were split. The tombs were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised; and coming out of the tombs after His resurrection they entered the holy city and appeared to many” (Mt 27:51-53). Matthew telescopes events somewhat in that description, for he begins at the moment of Christ’s death, but moves immediately to events arising after His resurrection.
What is surprising to us is that His disciples were taken by surprise by these events. He had told them repeatedly, after all, about what must transpire. He had told them He must die, and He had told them He would rise again. Yet, apart from a few of the women, the crucifixion left the closest companions of our Lord utterly bereft and bewildered. Hope seemed crushed after all. Three years they had been with Him, and everything seemed possible. Now He was gone from them, and nothing much at all seemed possible. Time to go home and face the ridicule.
But the cross was not the end, only the inflection point. What had happened? What gives answer to Jesus’ heartfelt cry of abandonment? “Why have You forsaken Me?” In truth, Jesus knew. That cry, I think, must be understood as coming forth of His humanity. But He remained wholly God, even there on the cross. He knew His purpose, as He had known it from before the beginning. He knew what must be done, else He would never have come to this point. But still, the tearing shock of this necessary rending of the fellowship of the Triune Godhead must have struck deeper even than the pain of the cross. Never before, and never again, had Jesus the Son known such a sense of isolation, a lack of Father’s presence. But in this moment, all the sin of all humankind, all the guilt and all the righteous wrath of God against that growing body of sin, lay upon Jesus. “He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him” (2Co 5:21).
This is the great and marvelous mystery of the Gospel. Jesus, the sinless One, who alone among mankind was born without sin, without the legacy of Adam, came to dwell among men. Jesus, the sinless One, upheld the full Law of God, from the greatest commandment to the least, in letter and in spirit, perfectly, start to finish, from conception to death. Jesus, the sinless One, came not to show us that man could do it, but because man could not. Jesus, the sinless One, the true High Priest, offered His sacrifice for the sin of His people. “God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Ro 5:8). He didn’t wait for us to prove ourselves, because there could be no proving ourselves. He came because He was, and ever had been, the only Hope of all mankind. He came because that had been the plan and the purpose of Creation all along. All the failure of mankind, all the sin that continues to play out in the lives of man, had been a known quantity from the beginning. Adam’s failure was accounted for before Adam’s creation. The serpent hadn’t thrown a wrench in the works. He had served his purpose. More properly, he had served God’s purpose.
The Cross puts paid to the penalty of sin in the only possible way said penalty could be paid. Anselm recognized the problem for us. It was ever beyond us to repay what was owed God for our rebellion against Him, and that rebellion had begun before we gulped our first breath. We who owe Him everything as His just due, have nothing therefore by which to even begin to repay.
This was a message to be heard in Jesus’ parables. “A moneylender had two debtors: One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they were unable to repay, he graciously forgave them both. So which of them will love him more?” (Lk 7:41-42). So, fifty days’ wages, or five hundred. In our credit-driven economy, that might not seem so daunting, but consider that we typically arrange a thirty-year repayment plan to cover what amounts to perhaps one, maybe two years’ worth of income. Then consider what sort of strain the requisite repayment plan puts on your accounts. Now add the insecurity of life, the possibility of a job lost, or work become impossible due to injury of some sort, or any number of other surprise occurrences that may leave us far off-course from our intentions. Five years’ earnings could easily swamp a lifetime of repayment. “They could not repay.”
“For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves” (Mt 18:23). This really does rather describe our relationship to God. He is King – unopposable authority. We are his slaves, duty bound to do as He commands, indebted to Him for every necessity of life. “When he had begun to settle them, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him. But since he did not have the means to repay, his lord commanded him to be sold, along with his wife and children and all that he had, and repayment to be made” (Mt 18:24-25). The image here is of impossibility. The sums involved are kingly in themselves. The idea that even selling all he had, including his family, was going to even put a dent in the debt seems unlikely. “So the slave fell to the ground and prostrated himself before him, saying, ‘Have patience with me and I will repay you everything’” (Mt 18:26). Again, here is a fine picture of fallen man. The debt is astronomical, and still we’re convinced that somehow, given enough time and enough effort, we can repay God what we owe. But the debt is staggering, and quite frankly, we never so much as begin to pay it down, instead adding to our debt day by day. But here’s where the cross comes in. “The lord of that slave felt compassion and released him and forgave him the debt” (Mt 18:27). Now, that particular parable goes on to present us with cause to be forgiving of one another as God is forgiving of us, but for my present discussion, I wish to remain focused on the staggering debt, and the impossibility of repaying it.
“The lord of that slave felt compassion and released him and forgave him the debt.” Here is the problem for God, insomuch as God can have a problem. If He just forgives and forgets, then justice is not upheld, and God is not God. If He accepts partial payment and accounts it as whole and sufficient, then again justice is not upheld, but God is shown playing favorites. God’s Justice cannot admit of unrighteousness and partiality. God’s mercy cannot traduce His justice. The two must be held together, and the singular means by which God determined to satisfy Justice and Mercy simultaneously is found in the sinless Son of God. Moses could not have saved more than himself, had he managed a righteous life. He might just have managed to cover his own sins – not really, but we can imagine it for the sake of argument. But even had he lived a perfect and sinless life, yet his death could not redeem a one. Mind you, in such a case, he himself would ostensibly require no redemption, having no sin. Of course, having no sin, there would be no death, death being unjust in that case. But the case is pure conjecture, so let the inconsistencies stand.
In Christ, we do indeed find a sinless One put to death for sin. Is this, then, finally injustice with God? Of course not. It cannot be, for God is Justice. The death He died, He died for us, for all whom God is pleased to save. That death was for our sins. The full payment of our debt was necessary to the Justice of God. Our life was necessary to the Mercy of God. And here, in Christ Jesus, the Mercy Seat, Atonement was poured out by Himself upon Himself as it were, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him (2Co 5:21). Apart from Christ crucified, there is no basis for faith, for hope. In the reality of Christ crucified, and not only crucified but also resurrected victorious over sin and death, there is no basis for doubt. There is certainty, for He who died, and who lives again, is He who said, “Of those whom You gave Me I lost not a one” (Jn 18:9). “I give eternal life to them, and they will never perish; and no one will snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has even them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are One” (Jn 10:28-30).
So, then. On that dark day some two thousand years ago, history changed its course, or more properly, history fulfilled its course. All that had been foretold and required from the outset finds its fruition in that moment when Jesus, having received the sour wine, said, “It is finished!” and He bowed His head and gave up His spirit (Jn 19:30). The empty tomb comes some three days later as proof of purchase, payment accepted, and the debt paid in full. We are no longer found guilty before the court of God. It is not that God has winked at our sin, or chosen to ignore the obvious. He cannot. But, legally, officially, our debt of sin is paid in full, the court is satisfied, and we are free to go, free to enter into the joy of our Lord and King.
f. The Last Day
[12/28/19]
If it is finished, and all that Creation was designed for has been realized, what is our story here in this present day? Why do we remain? It’s clear enough that the ideal reality of heaven is not as yet our reality. Sin remains in and around us. What exactly was finished, then? What was finished was our deliverance from sin and more critically, from the condemnation of sin under the Law. We still know the tug of sin, but now we know an ability to resist. Now we know that our failures need not condemn us and leave us hopeless. Hope remains, and hope remains certain. It is finished. Sin no longer has the power to condemn us. Death is no longer a sentence upon us. Yes, this flesh will wear out and die, and even if we are among that number for whom the Last Day comes upon us while yet in this flesh, still, this flesh will die. It must.
Our hope is certainty, and yet our hope remains a matter of faith. Faith remains, ‘the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen’ (Heb 11:1). For those who walked before the Incarnation, hope and faith were centered on the coming of that One Who could and would save. Ours is just as centered on this very same wondrous event, but it is no longer a thing not seen from our perspective. Yet, we do live in faith, the assurance of things hoped for. We live in anticipation of our King’s return, this time without reference to sin (Heb 9:28). He Who came to dwell among men for a time as Man, Who died and rose again, ascending to heaven where He sits at the right hand of the throne, must return. He must because He has said He will. “If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, you may be also” (Jn 14:3).
Well, we are still here. As such, we must conclude that His return remains a thing hoped for, a thing not seen. I suspect that many, like myself, do not always find that day a thing hoped for. There are times when yes, I long with that anxiousness we hear in John’s writing. “He who testifies to these things says, ‘Yes, I am coming quickly.’ Amen! Come, Lord Jesus” (Rev 22:20). When we perceive the depths of sin and sorrow around us; when we are faced with the downward slide of humanity and the indifference and even hostility to faith and truth alike, there is assuredly a longing for that time when “God will wipe every tear from [our] eyes” (Rev 7:17). When “There will no longer be any death. There will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain” (Rev 21:4). Who could not long for such a thing, particularly when we are in periods of exactly such depths of sorrow?
Who can look upon his continued struggle with sin and his incapacity to walk in righteousness for so much as an hour, and not hunger for that time when we are finally to know what it is that we shall be? “Beloved, now we are the children of God” (1Jn 3:2a). This is our assured status. It is seen. It is known. It is bewildering, given that we know ourselves to well to suppose ourselves godlike. But it is certain. God has said it. God has done it. But then there is this. “And it has not appeared as yet what we will be. We know that when He appears, we will be like Him, because we will see Him just as He is” (1Jn 3:2b). We know that we don’t know. We know that there remains much work to be done in us before we are fit to see Him as He is and not die. Indeed, in a very real and literal sense we must die before we can possibly be fit to see Him. This flesh has not been resurrected, refitted for eternity. It remains the original unit. Our spirit has been renewed, oh yes! We are counted among those who have our hope fixed on Him, and on that basis how we struggle and strive to purify ourselves, just as He is pure. We understand that “No one who abides in Him sins; no one who sins has seen Him or knows Him” (1Jn 3:6), and sadly, we know we still sin.
This is where a certain amount of trepidation must creep in as regards the Last Day. How can we read John’s message, even understanding that there are distinctions to be made here between the one who sins occasionally and the one who makes sin his practice, without knowing a certain concern for our own categorization? We surely consider Jesus’ depiction of that day. “All the nations will be gathered before Him; and He will separate them from one another, as the shepherd separates the sheep from the goats; and He will put the sheep on His right, and the goats on His left. Then the King will say to those who are on His right, ‘Come, you who are blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me’” (Mt 25:32-36). Do these things describe you? Consistently? I can’t say they describe me nearly so well as I should like. Hospitality, I’m afraid, is not my strong suit. That, of course, assumes I actually have a strong suit.
“Then He will also say to those on His left, ‘Depart from Me, accursed ones, into the eternal fire which has been prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry, and you gave Me nothing to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me nothing to drink; I was a stranger, and you did not invite Me in; naked, and you did not clothe Me; sick, and in prison, and you did not visit Me’” (Mt 25:41-43). And for both the sheep and the goats of His parable, the question arises? When? When did we do, or when did we fail to do? And the answer is of a piece in both cases. “Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did, or did not do it to one of the least of these, you did or did not do it to Me” (Mt 25:40, Mt 25:45). Therein lies the result of the Last Day: Whether to eternal punishment or eternal life. How confident do you feel as to the outcome? Is this not still pointing us to a set of scales by which our works are being measured? Is it still going to come down to the question of whether our good works outnumber our bad? If so, I have to say that hope has never come and it certainly hasn’t been made certain.
Is Jesus, then, telling lies here? Is this not, in fact, how it’s going to play out? I cannot grant that His words are false, or even present a false hope in works. If works are the decisive factor on that day, then they were the decisive factor all along. But, if the value of the works lies in the measure of what we did ‘to one of the least of these’, I fear there will always be that one of the least to whom we failed to demonstrate the love of Christ. And, if the determining measure is one, then as with the Law, so with hospitality. All men are yet declared sinners, and there is no hope. If perfection remains the demand (it does), and that perfection remains to be obtained in our own power (it doesn’t), we are doomed to failure, as ever we were. Apart from Christ we can do nothing (Jn 15:5). That equation hasn’t changed.
This is a tension that remains under the gospel. We cannot but recognize that our salvation, if it depends on works, is no salvation at all. Yet we cannot help but hear the constant call to works, and the consistent urging of the necessity of works. It’s there in Jesus’ laying out of the Last Day. Sheep did good works. Goats did not. If we assume perfection, then there are no sheep, which I suppose would solve the puzzle, but not to any great satisfaction. If that’s the reality of the situation, then surely, Jesus would not present us with the picture of sheep entering into their kingdom.
It's the same tension we saw in John’s description. If those who see Jesus are those who don’t sin, then nobody sees Jesus. It’s as simple as that, isn’t it? Yet, if that’s the case, this whole business of Creation has been something of an ugly joke, and that’s inconsistent with God’s essence. So, clearly that’s now how we are to take it. Indeed, even apart from the necessity of God’s character, this cannot be the intent. Remember, he starts with this: “Beloved, now we are children of God” (1Jn 3:2a). Now we ARE. We’re not perfect, but we’re children. We know the standard. It’s been there since before Moses, but certainly, it’s there in stark relief in the preaching of Jesus. “You are to be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt 5:48). If ever there was a convicting, condemning word, that’s it! But, God. Our perfection is not found in us. It’s not found in our successful pursuit of works, even of hospitality. It’s found outside of ourselves, in the perfect righteousness of Christ.
“He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him” (2Co 5:21). The gospel holds. Somehow, by the will of God, we remain branches connected to the Vine. Somehow, by the will of God, in spite of our failures toward the ‘least of these’, in spite of our continued propensity for sin, we remain ‘the righteousness of God in Him.’ The bill is paid, and the record of the court declares us not innocent, but free to go.
The tension remains. We know we must do. We know we cannot, or at the very least, will not do. We see Paul’s adamantine rejection of works as a basis for salvation, and must acknowledge the validity of His argument. If any man could have arrived at life by abiding under the Law, then there would be no Messiah come to save others. It would remain to man to save himself. Yet, we also see James’ adamantine demand for works. “Faith without works is dead” (Jas 2:20). Which is it? It’s both. We are required to live in this tension of knowing the demand for perfection and knowing our own imperfection. We are required to live in this tension of knowing our rescue depends solely on the merciful grace of God in Christ and yet knowing that as recipients of His merciful grace, much is required of us.
That Last Day lingers on the distant horizon, and I find it hard to imagine an earnest Christian who does not look upon it with a mixture of hope and concern. How else can we see it if we recognize our own myriad imperfections? Apart from steadfast faith in the redeeming work of Christ, that day must loom before us as a court case we cannot hope to win. But we are not apart from steadfast faith in the redeeming work of Christ, and in that steadfast faith, we are enabled to see that day in joyful anticipation. Yes, I suspect we shall hear things laid out in the open about us that we have labored long and hard to keep under wraps, at least so far as our fellow believers are concerned. Oh, who am I kidding? We’ve tried hard to convince ourselves we even had those things hidden from God, even though we are quite keenly aware of the impossibility of such a thing. We cannot look forward to the exposure anymore than the prophets could look forward to the exile. But we can take joy in what we know lies on the other side of discipline. We can face that trial with the sorrow rightly due for sin, but with the confident assurance of knowing this case was already settled long since. Yes, we are guilty of having done those things, and it to our great shame that we must acknowledge it so.
But we know this as well: The old man has been done away with. It is no longer I that liveth, but Christ that liveth in me. My debt has been paid, and the court has recorded the joyful determination that I am found righteous, legally cleared of all further penalty. Oh, no. I do not in honestly look forward to appearing before that throne of judgment. I don’t see how anyone can. But I do look forward to the end result, for that has been established in Christ Jesus, my Lord and King. I am His, and none, not even myself, can take me from out of His hand. In that strength and knowledge alone can I give answer to the psalmist. “If You, LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?” (Ps 130:3). “Who may ascend into the hill of the LORD? And who may stand in His holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who has not lifted up his soul to falsehood and has not sworn deceitfully. He shall receive a blessing from the LORD and righteousness from the God of his salvation” (Ps 24:3-5).
There is One who satisfies that requirement, and He does in fact ascend and stand, and He has in fact received a blessing from the LORD. “I saw the LORD sitting on a throne, lofty and exalted, with the train of His robe filling the temple” (Isa 6:1). We who are the called of the Lord, entered into His mercy by the gift of His grace, indwelt by the Spirit, are that temple, as He has told us. He has ascended. He is enthroned. The train of His robe fills us, the temple. His blood has cleansed us, and as we pass that throne of judgment, we are indeed entered into the kingdom of our inheritance, established from before the beginning, there to enjoy Him in the beauty of perfection forever. Oh, it is indeed devoutly to be desired, and this is our inheritance, bought and paid for, laid aside in heaven for that day, of which the Holy Spirit has been sent as our surety, the evidence to us of God With Us, that we will not fall away, we will not lose hope, we will not succumb. “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh” (2Co 4:8-11). To be clear, Paul was not suggesting some sort of bodily resurrection here on earth, nor was he suggesting some perfection of piety in himself or in us. The proof of Christ is not in us, so much as in spite of us. It is in the perseverance of the saints, made possible not by their strength of will, but by the will of God.
