Credo: A Sermon Series through The Apostles’ Creed // pt.9—“suffered under Pontius Pilate”

Terrence Malick’s beautiful 2019 film, “A Hidden Life,” focuses on Franz Jägerstätter, an Austrian conscientious objector during World War II. It is a powerful film. There is one scene in which Jägerstätter enters a church and has a conversation with Ohlendorff, a painter who is working on various paintings within the sanctuary. As he works on these paintings of Christ and other biblical figures and images, Ohlendorff says the following to Jägerstätter:

I paint the tombs of the prophets. I help people look up from those pews and dream…

I paint all this suffering but I don’t suffer myself. I make a living of it.

What we do is just create sympathy. We create admirers. We don’t create followers.

Christ’s life is a demand. We don’t want to be reminded of it so we don’t have to see what happens to the truth…

I paint their comfortable Christ, with a halo over His head. How can I show what I haven’t lived? Someday I might have the courage to venture, not yet. Someday I’ll paint the true Christ.

It is a heart-rending scene. It hits me especially hard as a pastor. Am I painting a comfortable Christ? Am I helping in the formation of admirers of the comfortable Christ instead of followers of the suffering Christ?

The painter Ohlendorff declares that he will “someday…paint the true Christ.”

We turn away from the suffering of Christ. Or, more precisely, we turn away from the suffering of Christ except in a transactional sense that benefits us. We do not mind His suffering insofar as it wins us our salvation. But what do we do with His suffering as it challenges our own comfortable lives? What do we do with His cross as a way of life, with His words from Matthew 16:24: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me”?

He “suffered under Pontius Pilate,” the Creed tells us. What are we to make of this? What, in other words, are we to make of the suffering Christ? Why did He suffer and what does that mean for you and for me?

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Matthew 20:29–34

Matthew 20

29 And as they went out of Jericho, a great crowd followed him. 30 And behold, there were two blind men sitting by the roadside, and when they heard that Jesus was passing by, they cried out, “Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” 31 The crowd rebuked them, telling them to be silent, but they cried out all the more, “Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” 32 And stopping, Jesus called them and said, “What do you want me to do for you?” 33 They said to him, “Lord, let our eyes be opened.” 34 And Jesus in pity touched their eyes, and immediately they recovered their sight and followed him.

Maybe you have seen the movie “Cinderella Man,” starring Russell Crowe. Crowe plays the boxer James J. Braddock, who boxed in the 1930s. One of the more powerful and moving scenes in the movie is when Braddock, working on the docks and unable to support his family, has to go and explain his desperate plight to a room full of wealthy, nicely-dressed men, literally with his hat in his hand, and ask for $18.38 so he can get his children out of the hard labor job he had to “farm them out to” when he could not pay his bills. The men in the room listen in silence to his appeal and look at his extended empty hat. Finally, a few put some money in and wish him well. A few others turn away in disgust. Many look uncomfortable and embarrassed. It is a masterfully-done scene. It highlights both the indignity of begging and the social stigma that comes with it.

I suspect that is how it has always been with beggars: some give to them, some turn away in disgust, and many are just uncomfortable. There are also a couple of different reactions in the begging scene Matthew describes in Matthew 20:29–34. Some rebuke the beggars and attempt to get them to be quiet. But there is one who hears them, one who shows them mercy, one who gives.

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Credo: A Sermon Series through The Apostles’ Creed // pt.8—“who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary”

It is rare that I do a double-take on religion polling…but I did a double-take on this one. Ligonier Ministries and LifeWay released their 2022 “State of Theology” report[1], and one part of it actually stopped me in my tracks. Here it is:

Brothers and sisters in Christ, in 2020 30% of self-professed Evangelical Christians agreed with the statement, “Jesus was a great teacher, but he was not God.” 30% agreed that Jesus is not God. And last year that percentage increased to 43%.

43%…of Evangelicals…do not believe…that Jesus is God.

Church, this represents a staggering failure on the part of the church to teach theology and to teach theological teaching. This is why something like the Apostles’ Creed is so important, especially insofar as it prompts us to dive deeper into the doctrinal realities of our faith.

Lines 4 and 5 of the Creed are especially important here. Let us listen again:

who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,
born of the Virgin Mary

These two lines of the creed will help us establish two important biblical truths that will then lead us to our doctrinal understanding of who Jesus is. The two truths established by these lines are:

who was conceived by the Holy Spirit:         Jesus is fully God.
born of the Virgin Mary:                                Jesus is fully man.

Let us consider these truths.

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Matthew 20:17-28

Matthew 20

17 And as Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the twelve disciples aside, and on the way he said to them, 18 “See, we are going up to Jerusalem. And the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death 19 and deliver him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified, and he will be raised on the third day.” 20 Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came up to him with her sons, and kneeling before him she asked him for something. 21 And he said to her, “What do you want?” She said to him, “Say that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” 22 Jesus answered, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am to drink?” They said to him, “We are able.” 23 He said to them, “You will drink my cup, but to sit at my right hand and at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.” 24 And when the ten heard it, they were indignant at the two brothers. 25 But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. 26 It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, 27 and whoever would be first among you must be your slave,28 even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Howard Foshee writes:

Years ago, I read a newspaper feature written by a man who told of his student days in New York City. He related how he used to visit the magnificent Cathedral of St. John the Divine. Once a guide called his attention to a series of niches around the cathedral chancel. In each niche was carved the figure of a man who had been chosen as the greatest of his century. The first century was represented by St. Paul. Columbus represented the fifteenth; Washington, the eighteenth. The nineteenth had been awarded to Lincoln. It was the last niche that really caught his attention. This block of unshaped stone had not yet been carved. Still in rough hewn form, it represented the greatest man of the twentieth century. That name was yet to be chosen—for that person could well be in the process of becoming.[1]

It is a moving story, and it is intended to inspire. It leaves the reader with this question: Might you be the next great person? Even so, it does buy into a particular understanding of greatness, no? After all, Paul, Columbus, Washington, and Lincoln were all men of fame and great accomplishment. So there is a bit of despair that comes with the whole exercise as it raises the question of the likelihood of us doing what these great men did. But what if greatness is not really defined by accomplishment but rather by faith, hope, love, and obedience? Further still, what if true greatness in the Kingdom actually looks like failure in the terms of the world?

Jesus had something to say about greatness, and what He said went against all common sense. But Jesus—may we thank God—was anything but common, and so we will allow Him to define what great really means.

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Credo: A Sermon Series through The Apostles’ Creed // pt.7—“our Lord: What it Means to Call Jesus ‘Lord’?”

Calvin Miller once spoke of the challenge that school teachers faced in the counterculture of California in the 1960s. Seemingly all of a sudden, little children—the children of hippies—started appearing in classes with the most exotic of names: Peace, Moonbeam, Star, Rainbow, and the like. Teachers had to adjust and, above all else, had to avoid showing surprise at these strange names.

One school teacher was prepared, then, to find among her students a little boy named “Fruit Stand.” It was written right there on the little name card the kids wore: Fruit Stand. So the teacher decided to embrace it outright. “Good morning, Fruit Stand!” She said to the boy. Then, throughout the day, she warmed to the name: “Yes, little Fruit Stand? You have a question?” “That is right, Fruit Stand! That is the correct answer!” “Of course, Fruit Stand, you may go to the restroom.” And on and on it went

He was a sweet little boy, and the teacher was sad to see him go. Even so, at the end of the day, he lined up with the others to be led out to the buses. The teacher came to little Fruit Stand, patted him on the top of his head, said, “I will see you tomorrow Fruit Stand!”, then turned his name placard over so that the bus driver would be able to see where he was to be dropped off.

And there, on the back of his name card, it said…Anthony.

What I love about the Apostles’ Creed is the way that it names Jesus then turns His name card over so we can see what is written on the back. And what is written on the back is powerful and provocative and incendiary, for on the back we read: “Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord.” We have sought to answer the question, “What does it mean to call Jesus ‘Christ’?” We then sought to answer the question, “What does it mean to call Jesus ‘Son of God’?” Now we will attempt to answer the question, “What does it mean to call Jesus ‘our Lord’?”

This last title, “Lord,” must be understood. To say that it is pervasive in the New Testament is to make an understatement, for as James Leo Garrett writes:

Whereas “Lord” is used 139 times in the New Testament of God the Father, it is used 489 times of Jesus. The latter usage occurred in all books except Titus, and 1, 2, and 3 John.[1]

So what does this important and very-present word “Lord” mean?

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Credo: A Sermon Series through The Apostles’ Creed // pt.6—”His Only Son: The Son and the Father”

There is a phrase in the Bible and a phrase frequently said by Christians that many Muslims find absolutely shocking and offensive. That phrase is “Son of God.”

Collin Hansen, in his Christianity Today article, “The Son and the Crescent,” explains.

The Qur’an explicitly states that God could not have a son. In Arabic, the word ibn (“son of”) carries biological connotations. Muslims reject the possibility that God could have produced a son through sexual relations with Mary. Christians confess that Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. But this distinction is lost on many Muslims who lack the theological context for understanding nuanced Christian teaching on the Trinity.

The problem, however, far surpasses a theological argument between Muslims and Christians. In fact, the Qur’an (At-Tawba 9:30) says God curses anyone who would utter the ridiculous blasphemy that Jesus could be ibnullâh (“a son of God”). Not only do Muslims disagree with Christians about the identity and nature of Jesus, they also incur a curse for even mentioning the phrase “Son of God.”

Rick Brown, a Bible scholar and missiologist, has been involved in outreach in Africa and Asia since 1977 and regularly consults on language development and linguistics, including Bible translations. He says pious Muslims would sooner leave the presence of someone who utters the phrase than risk judgment in hell for hearing it. Even those who lack such devout scruples think hearing or reading “Son of God” will bring bad luck. Many avoid associating with Westerners altogether, regarding them as polytheists who harbor strange views about God’s family.[1]

Hansen goes on to explain that this reality has led to an intense debate between Bible translators, with some either dropping the language of “Son of God” in reference to Jesus or adding qualifying language to the phrase to distinguish it from biological sonship and others arguing that this goes too far, compromises the integrity of these translations, and ultimately hinders evangelism and missions by making too many concessions to Muslim readers.

That is an interesting debate, but for our purposes let us say this: the language of “Son of God” is critically important to our understanding of Jesus, has deep biblical attestation and roots, and must be rightly understood and articulated.

We have considered what it means to call Jesus “Christ.” Let us consider now what it means to call Jesus “Son of God.”

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Credo: A Sermon Series through The Apostles’ Creed // pt.5—”And in Jesus Christ: What Does it Mean to Call Jesus ‘Christ’?”

“Tenn. judge: Parents can name their baby ‘Messiah’”

WBIR-TV, Knoxville, Tenn.

Published 10:54 a.m. ET Sept. 18, 2013

Well. That will get your attention! Here are some of the details:

NEWPORT, Tenn. — A Tennessee judge reversed a ruling Wednesday ordering a mother to change her 8-month-old’s name from “Messiah.”

The boy’s mother, Jaleesa Martin, and father could not agree on a last name, which is how they ended up at a child support hearing in Cocke County Chancery Court last month.

Child Support Magistrate Lu Ann Ballew ordered the baby’s name be “Martin DeShawn McCullough.” His name included both parents’ last names but left out Messiah.

So the parents go before the judge concerning the last name but the judge, in making her ruling, tries to make them drop the first name, “Messiah.” Now, the magistrates ruling would be overturned by virtue of the fact that the parents were not there to discuss the first name but rather the last name and, it was decided, making them drop the first name was unconstitutional. Even so, the judge’s explanation was interesting.

“The word ‘Messiah’ is a title, and it’s a title that has only been earned by one person—and that one person is Jesus Christ,” Ballew said.

The mother, commenting later, said:

“I was shocked. I never intended on naming my son Messiah because it means God and I didn’t think a judge could make me change my baby’s name because of her religious beliefs,” said Martin.

The child’s name is now Messiah DeShawn McCollough. McCollough is the father’s name.

Martin said she’s relieved.[1]

Whew! There is a lot going on here! Quite apart from the legal angle, I am intrigued by a few things.

The judge actually is correct that the word “Messiah” is a title. But then so is the name “Judge” and I had a great uncle named Judge Reynolds, so…

And I am still chewing on the Judge’s argument that Jesus “earned” the title “Messiah.” Earned? That invokes an image of a person not having something and then getting something because he worked for that something. If that is what is meant, it is a problem. Jesus was the Messiah, the anointed redeemer, by virtue of what He did, yes (perhaps “fulfilled” instead of “earned”?) but more so He was the Messiah because He bore the divine anointing as such in His person. You do not have to “earn” what you “are.” Yet, He did show in His words and work that He was the Messiah.

Anyway, regardless of what you think of the legalities or semantics of the judge’s reasoning, it is a bit eyebrow-raising to name one’s child “Messiah.”

To some, the word “Messiah” may sound like a strange or exotic Old Testament word. But you need to understand that every time you say the word “Christ” you are saying Messiah.

Theologian James Leo Garrett Jr. explains.

The Hebrew word māšî(a)ḥ, meaning “anointed one,” was transliterated into Greek as messias and translated into Greek as Christos, a substantive derived from the Greek verb chriein, meaning “to anoint.” The Latin translation is Christus, and hence we have the English “Christ.”[2]

That is to say that as the word “Messiah” travels from a Hebrew tongue to an English tongue it tends to become “Christ” along the way.

We also refer to “Messiah” every time we say “Christian.” Alister McGrath writes:

The Roman historian Tacitus refers to Christians’ deriving their name from “Christ, who was executed at the hands of the procurator Pontius Pilate in the reign of Tiberius.”[3]

So in a sense we have all taken on the name “Messiah,” though, for us, we mean that we are followers of or disciples of the Christ.

In the Apostles’ Creed way proclaim believe in “Jesus Christ.” But when we say this, what are we saying?

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Matthew 20:1-16

Matthew 20

1 “For the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And going out about the third hour he saw others standing idle in the marketplace, and to them he said, ‘You go into the vineyard too, and whatever is right I will give you.’ So they went. Going out again about the sixth hour and the ninth hour, he did the same. And about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing. And he said to them, ‘Why do you stand here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You go into the vineyard too.’ And when evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first.’ And when those hired about the eleventh hour came, each of them received a denarius. 10 Now when those hired first came, they thought they would receive more, but each of them also received a denarius. 11 And on receiving it they grumbled at the master of the house, 12 saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ 13 But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? 14 Take what belongs to you and go. I choose to give to this last worker as I give to you. 15 Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?’ 16 So the last will be first, and the first last.”

 

One of my favorite westerns is Clint Eastwood’s “Unforgiven.” In the climactic scene, William Munny (Eastwood) confronts the ruthless sheriff “Little Bill” (Gene Hackman) after “Little Bill” had Munny’s friend Ned (Morgan Freeman) killed and his body publicly displayed. Munny shoots “Little Bill” and then prepares to do so again while standing over the dying sheriff. “Little Bill” says to the looming Munny, “I don’t deserve to die like this.” To which Munny says (as only Clint Eastwood could say it), “Deserves got nothing to do with it.” Then he kills “Little Bill” in an act of vengeance.

It is a memorable and terrifying scene. It is interesting to me that one can find online debates about whether or not that line—“Deserves got nothing to do with it.”—makes sense, coming from Munny. Some argue that it does not make sense since Munny clearly kills “Little Bill” precisely because he deserved to die. Others, however, disagree, noting that Munny doesn’t think he deserves to live either, or that any of them do. Regardless, it is a great line: “Deserves got nothing to do with it.”

I wonder if that line works too in a positive sense? I think it does. In fact, I think it might be a good summary line for Matthew 20:1–16. In this story, Jesus seems to be saying the same thing, though as a note of hope, not of doom. When it comes to salvation and the Kingdom, “Deserves got nothing to do with it.” Rather, it is all of grace and the free gift of God.

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