Matthew 5:4

Matthew 5:4

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

 

R. Kent Hughes has pointed to an article that appeared in the Chicago Sun-Times some years back concerning the scandals surrounding U.S. Representatives Daniel Crane and Gerald Studds.  The article was entitled “There is One Thing Worse than Sin” and was written by Dr. Thomas F. Roeser.  In it, he discussed two Congressional scandals:  Representative Crane’s inappropriate relationship with a seventeen-year-old female page and Representative Studds’ inappropriate relationship with a seventeen-year-old male page.  Both inappropriate.  Both sinful.  Both wrong.  But what struck Dr. Roeser about the scandals were the different reactions of the two Representatives to the July 14, 1983, censures they both received from the House.  This is what Roeser wrote:

Being censured is the only thing Crane and Studds have in common.  The nation got a flimmer of their philosophical differences when Crane admitted tearfully to his district, then to the full House, that “broke the laws of God and man,” casting a vote for his own censure, facing the House as the Speaker announced the tally.  Studds, in contrast, acknowledged he was gay in a dramatic speech to the House, then defended the relationship with the page as “mutual and voluntary.”  He noted that he had abided by the age of consent, and said the relationship didn’t warrant the “attention of action” of the House.  Studds voted “present” on the censure and heard the verdict from the Speaker with his back to the House.

Hughes says that, “Roser went on to contrast the different moral traditions both these men represent – properly excusing neither one for his sin.”  He quotes Roeser’s conclusion:

But there’s one consolation for Crane.  His…philosophy teaches that there is one thing worse than sin.  That is denial of sin, which makes forgiveness impossible.[1]

That’s intriguing.  Two men.  Two sins.  Two censures.  Two totally different reactions.  One Representative at least appeared to mourn over his sins, to acknowledge them, and to accept his punishment.  The other was defiant, back turned to the sentencing body.  In fact, Studds would never acknowledge the sinfulness of his actions.

Does it matter how we react to our sinfulness, our own rebellions against God?  Is it important, and, if so, why?  I would like for us to consider how the second Beatitude, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted,” address precisely this question.

Before we do, let us remember that we defined the Beatitudes as divine, celebratory pronouncements of present and future joy for those in the Kingdom of God yet living in the world.  They do not appear to make sense to the world because the world is upside-down.  They are a roadmap for the values of the Kingdom of God in the overlap between the Kingdom of God and the fallen kingdom of this world.  They should be exhibited among the people of God, through whom the reign of God’s Kingdom is currently breaking through into this world.

The Progressive Nature of the Beatitudes

To get at the meaning of the second Beatitude, a general point about the relationship between the Beatitudes themselves is necessary.  It is a significant point, and one I would like us to consider.  Simply put, it is that the Beatitudes are interconnected and progressive.  They are interconnected insofar as they are not intended to be separated one from another.  They are progressive insofar as they are presented in a deliberate order and build one upon another.  Thus, the second Beatitude follows the first necessarily, as the third follows the second, the fourth follows the third, etc.

In this sense, it is best to think of the Beatitudes as a ladder with eight rungs, the bottom-most being poverty in spirit and the upper-most being persecution.  I believe if you will take the time to consider the particular order of the Beatitudes you will see that this makes sense.

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For instance, we considered last week that poverty of spirit refers to an acknowledgment of our souls’ impoverishment outside of the Lord God and His merciful grace.  That is to say, to be poor in spirit is to recognize our great and abiding need for Jesus Christ.  Is to realize that we bring nothing to the table but our sins whereas He brings to the table His love, which is everything.

The last Beatitude refers to the blessedness of persecution, of suffering and of possibly even laying down your life for the gospel.  We might say that a willingness to suffer for Jesus Christ is the ultimate mark of true Christian maturity, and martyrdom is the ultimate expression of that mark.  But between poverty of spirit and persecution there is a journey we must undergo, a journey of growth and maturation.

How does the recognition of the Beatitudes’ progressive nature help in our interpretation?  It helps in that we can look at the preceding Beatitude to give us a sense of direction in considering the current Beatitude.  Thus, “those who mourn” has something to do with those who are “poor in spirit.”  And that leads to a very natural conclusion:  those whom Jesus speaks of as mourning are those whose mourning arises out of the poverty of their spirit, out of the recognition of their lostness outside of Jesus Christ.  Meaning, they are mourning their spiritual poverty that is itself a result of human sinfulness.  They are mourning their sins.

This is a fascinating idea, but we might ask if there is any reason for believing that this is what “those who mourn” is addressing?

The Nature of this Mourning

Let me first say that the suggestion that “those who mourn” is a reference to “those who mourn their spiritual poverty and sinfulness” is not a rejection of the idea that the Bible offers comfort to those mourning the loss of a loved one or friend.  To be sure, scripture offers wonderful comfort to those who mourn and grieve over death and pain.  The gospel itself is comfort.  Nor would I suggest that it is wrong to say that the statement, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted,” is not true in regards mourning and grieving in general.  Rather, I am simply suggesting that, in the context of these Beatitudes, the mourning of which Jesus speaks is mourning over our own sinfulness.

There are nine Greek words for “sorrow.”  The one Jesus uses here (pentheo) is the most extreme, denoting the most intense form of sorrow and mourning.[2]  That is a significant fact.  It means that the mourning addressed here is profound, painful mourning emanating from the deepest recesses of the heart.  These are hard tears indeed!  And what are these tears for?  They are for the destitution of our own sinful hearts.  They are for the realities that lead us to being poor in spirit in the first place.

If the thought of mourning over sins seem theoretical to you, let me suggest that you recall how often scripture shows this reality.  For instance, we often see the godly grieving over the lostness of the world.  Consider Luke 19:41-44, which records the reaction of Jesus as He looked down at the city of Jerusalem.

41 And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, 42 saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. 43 For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side 44 and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.”

Consider Romans 9:1-3, in which Paul expresses the sadness of heart he feels over the Jews’ rejection of Jesus Christ.

1 I am speaking the truth in Christ—I am not lying; my conscience bears me witness in the Holy Spirit— 2 that I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. 3 For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh.

Consider 1 Corinthians 5:1-2, in which Paul scolds the Corinthian church’s acceptance of a member who was having a relationship with his father’s wife.

1 It is actually reported that there is sexual immorality among you, and of a kind that is not tolerated even among pagans, for a man has his father’s wife. 2 And you are arrogant! Ought you not rather to mourn? Let him who has done this be removed from among you.

In Luke 6:25, mourning is promised those who are blithely carefree and careless in the world.  There, Jesus says, “Woe to you who laugh now, for you shall mourn and weep.”

I will never forget the first time I saw my father cry.  That is a memorable experience for a young man.  I was out of high school and was talking with my dad about the 1960’s, his generation.  He was sharing with me his opinion that the hippie movement of the 60’s had started out going in the right direction, that it was rightly protesting a great deal of the superficiality, plasticity, and hypocrisy of the American machine.  It was righteously indignant about government corruption and all that goes with it.  As he talked, he told me that, in his view, something went wrong with that movement.  Instead of moving towards Jesus Christ as the answer, it moved towards hedonism, careless and selfish free love, drugs, and debauchery.  Then he began to cry.  It caught me very much off guard at the moment, though I found it very moving:  my father crying over the lostness and sinfulness of his generation.

Have you ever shed tears for the depravity of the world?  Have you ever shed tears for your own depravity?

James seemed to feel that such tears were necessary and crucial.  In James 4:8-10, he wrote:

8 Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. 9 Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. 10 Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you.

Do you see how James’ words seem to be connecting the first two Beatitudes?  Poverty of spirit is reflected in James call for humility (v.10) and mourning is called for explicitly in verse 9.  Yes, the Bible knows quite a lot about the need to mourn over sin as the first step to coming to God.

I would argue that this is evident nowhere so clearly as in 2 Corinthians 7:5-13.  In this amazing passage, Paul is trying to comfort the Corinthians.  He is having to comfort them because they have come under deep conviction after receiving Paul’s first letter to them, 1 Corinthians, in which, again, he chastised them for being complicit in the open moral rebellion of a church member.  As you read this passage, keep in mind the words, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

5 For even when we came into Macedonia, our bodies had no rest, but we were afflicted at every turn—fighting without and fear within. 6 But God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus, 7 and not only by his coming but also by the comfort with which he was comforted by you, as he told us of your longing, your mourning, your zeal for me, so that I rejoiced still more. 8 For even if I made you grieve with my letter, I do not regret it—though I did regret it, for I see that that letter grieved you, though only for a while. 9 As it is, I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting. For you felt a godly grief, so that you suffered no loss through us. 10 For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death. 11 For see what earnestness this godly grief has produced in you, but also what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what longing, what zeal, what punishment! At every point you have proved yourselves innocent in the matter. 12 So although I wrote to you, it was not for the sake of the one who did the wrong, nor for the sake of the one who suffered the wrong, but in order that your earnestness for us might be revealed to you in the sight of God. 13 Therefore we are comforted.

Truly amazing!  Paul notes that the Corinthians were “grieved into repenting” (v.9).  Interestingly, he calls this kind of grief “godly grief,” noting that “godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret” and that godly grief produces “earnestness” in the believer (v.10-11).

The words “godly grief” suggests that there are kinds of grief that are not godly.  That is, there are kinds of grief, even grief over sin, that do not lead to repentance and salvation.  Thomas Watson, writing in 1660, spoke of a five-fold mourning that “is not the right gospel-mourning for sin.”  He defined these impure mournings, with accompanying examples, as:

  • A despairing kind of mourning (i.e., Judas Iscariot’s mourning)
  • Hypocritical mourning (i.e., Saul’s hypocritical repentance before Samuel)
  • Forced mourning (i.e., Cain’s fear of his punishment instead of his sin)
  • An outward mourning (i.e., “They disfigure their faces” Matthew 6:16)
  • A vain fruitless mourning (“Some will shed a few tears, but are as bad as ever.”)

Do any of these faulty kinds of mourning look familiar to you?  Do you recognize them in your own life?  Have you ever mourned the consequences of your actions and confused it for mourning your actual actions?  Have you ever mourned on the surface but not from your heart?  Have you ever mourned on the outside, employed a little bit of theatrics, without truly mourning?

Some of us who became believers at a young age may wonder how we can mourn over our sins.  Some of us have even listened with a kind of weird envy to those dramatic testimonies that we usually put front and center in churches:  testimonies of people caught in shocking addictions or guilty of shocking crimes who were suddenly and dramatically converted from darkness to light.  Some of us might even say to ourselves, “Why could I not have had more dramatic sins to mourn over, to be redeemed from, to tell stunned audiences about?”

Let me say that the mistake of such thoughts is a mistake of perspective:  all sins are profoundly ugly and destructive and all sinfulness should drive us to mourning.  Consider as well the sins you have committed since coming to Christ.  Consider your sins of mind.  Consider your sins of neglect and omission.  Consider your heart whenever it turns from Jesus.  Look deeply into your heart and you will have more than sufficient reason to mourn, be you eight or eighty.

True mourning is heart-brokenness over our actual sins.  The mourning that brings the blessing of God arises when one who is poor in spirit sees, is broken by, and grieves over the specific sins and the sinful disposition that has separated that one from the Lord God.  Those who mourn in this way will be blessed, for the Lord Jesus does not despise the grieving heart.

The Beauty of Comfort Christ Gives

The poor in spirit are blessed.  Those who mourn their poverty of spirit are blessed.  The Kingdom of God is for those who are broken over their great and undeniable need for God.  Those who are not so broken cannot even receive the Kingdom anyway, though they desperately need it!

I love how the great John Chrysostom put it:

Where shall they be comforted!  Tell me.  Both here and there.  For since the thing enjoined was exceeding burthensome and galling, He promised to give that, which most of all made it light.  Wherefore, if thou wilt be comforted, mourn:  and think not this a dark saying.  For when God doth comfort, though sorrows come upon thee by thousands like snow-flakes, thou wilt be above them all.  Since in truth, as the returns which God gives are always far greater than our labors; so He hath wrought in this case, declaring them that mourn to be blessed, not after the value of what they do, but after His own love towards man.[3]

The gospel tells us that the blood of Jesus Christ is sufficient to cover all our sins.  This means that you can rest in the comfort that Christ has won us!  This means that you can, indeed, be free!

We often hear Revelation 21 read at funerals, but let me ask you to consider this passage, particularly verses1-4, in the light of the second Beatitude, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”  These verses read:

1 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. 2 And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. 3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. 4 He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Ah!  The “loud voice” shouts out, “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes!”  A friend of mine once said to me, “Wyman, have you ever asked yourself why it is that everybody is crying in Heaven, that everybody has tears that need to be wiped away?”  He then suggested that the reason everybody is crying is because we know we do not deserve the Kingdom, because we are mourning what we know of our own hearts and the distance we see between our hearts and His glory.

But herein lies the comfort:  Jesus is in the business of wiping away heart-broken tears!  Jesus is in the business of picking up those who are broken under their sinfulness!  Jesus is in the business of calling home those who are far off!  Jesus is in the business of comforting those who mourn!

Bless are you who are mourning, for you will be comforted!

 

 



[1] R. Kent Hughes, The Sermon on the Mount. (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2001), p.29.

[2] John MacArthur, Matthew 1-7. The MacArthur New Testament Commentary (Chicago, IL: Moody Publishers, 1985), p.157.

[3] John Chrysostom, Homilies on the Gospel of St. Matthew. Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers. Vol.10. First Series. Ed., Philip Schaff (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2004), p.93.

Matthew 5:3

Matthew 5:3

3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

 

A number of years ago Ted Turner offended a lot of Christians by saying, “Christianity is for losers.”  Remember that?  “Christianity is for losers.”  That comment created quite the media storm.  In fact, the controversy was so intense for Turner that he eventually proposed to Johnny Hunt, the pastor of First Baptist Church, Woodstock, GA, that he, Turner, apologize for the comment at a Christian luncheon, which he did.  He has since then apologized again, saying he regretted making the comment.

That comment immediately struck me as interesting.  “Christianity is for losers.”

For some reason I did not feel particularly offended by it.  For one thing, opponents of Christianity have often leveled that charge, particularly Nietzsche, who railed against what he said was Christianity’s elevation of weakness and pity and “slave-morality.”  For another thing, I have long since stopped being outraged when non-believers act like non-believers, and the thought of having a non-believer apologize to believers strikes me as odd on a number of levels.  For yet another thing, Paul said something very close to Turner’s statement in 1 Corinthians 1 (albeit, without the intended insult and rancor) when he wrote:

26 For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. 27 But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; 28 God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, 29 so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.

No, Paul didn’t say, “Christianity is for losers.”  But he did say that Christianity is generally comprised of people that the world does not call “winners.”

I suppose above everything else, my reaction to the statement, “Christianity is for losers,” was, “Well, kind of, yeah!”  Meaning, there is a kind of truth to that, isn’t there?  I read the comments of one Christian after Turner’s controversial statement who made a good point.  He asked his readers to imagine how the opposite statement would sound:  “Christianity is for winners!”  Somehow that seems more problematic that Ted Turner’s comment.

After all, everybody who is born again knows that to be born again they had to first reach a point where they realized there great need for the new birth.  We wouldn’t say that Christianity is for “losers,” but we definitely would say that Christianity is for “the lost,” right?  More than that, Christianity is for people who realize that they have become losers in the great arena of life, that they cannot win on their own, that something is very, very wrong with us, and that we need help from the inside out.

Nobody was ever saved by saying, “Jesus, I’m a winner!  Save me!”  No, we’re saved by saying, “Jesus, I am lost and broken and rightly condemned!  Have mercy on me, a sinner!”

The world condemns such sentiments, considering them to be groveling and beneath the dignity of man.  The world celebrates the strong man, the winner, the champion.  However, Jesus began His Beatitudes by saying, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Want to hear a controversial statement?  Try that on for size!  “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

What can that possibly mean?  Let’s consider it this morning.  First, however, let’s consider the fact that this statement begins what we call the Beatitudes, traditionally numbered at eight (though some see more than that here) and introducing the SM.

What are the Beatitudes?

The SM begins with eight Beatitudes, so called because of the Latin word beatus which, in Latin, means “blessed.”  They are:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Again, the number of Beatitudes has been debated and various schemes of organizing them have been proposed, but I will be working with this arrangement, combining what may look like two Beatitudes at the end of the list into one on persecution.

It is important before we begin considering the individual Beatitudes that we understand what Jesus is doing here.  Clearly these constitute a unique section, given the similarity of their wording and their prominence here at the very beginning of the SM.  There are a few interesting things we should note about these, however, that I think will help us get at a definition of what these Beatitudes are.

To begin, let’s consider whether or not the first word here should be “blessed” or “happy.”  The great Greek scholar A.T. Robertson pointed out that there is a Greek word for “blessed” (eulogetoi), but that this is not the word used in the beatitudes.  Instead, the word makarioi is used and that word means “happy.”  While most English translations have used “blessed” instead of “happy” (presumably because of the connection of the word “happy” with the idea of chance or changing circumstances, or the flippancy with which the word “happy” is used in common English), Robertson protests, “But ‘happy’ is what Jesus said…It is a pity that we have not kept the word ‘happy’ to the high and holy plane where Jesus placed it.”[1]

In other words, because of how shallow and grounded in changing circumstances the word “happy” is in the English language, most translators have rendered it “blessed” instead.  This has been done, again, to provide a higher concept than mere happiness, but also in an effort to communicate that these Beatitudes are, in fact, declarations of God over His people.  I understand this motivation, and I will be using the word “blessed” throughout, but please do note that a grand and high sense of human happiness was in the heart of Jesus when He gave these.

Secondly, William Barclay has pointed out that the word “are” that is used in each of the Beatitudes is absent from the Greek.  He points out that Jesus was actually employing here “a very common kind of expression” in Aramaic and Hebrew, and that instead of “Blessed are the poor in spirit…” it should read, “Oh the blessedness of the poor in spirit…”  This means that “the beatitudes are not simple statements; they are exclamations…[T]he beatitudes are not pious hopes of what shall be; they are not glowing, but nebulous prophecies of some future bliss; they are congratulations on what is.”[2]

This is significant for us to understand.  The Beatitudes are joyful, bursting expressions of divine favor over those whom the world rejects.  “Oh the blessedness of the poor in spirit!”

Finally, New Testament scholar Craig Blomberg has pointed out that “an important change in tenses separates vv.3 and 10 from vv.4-9.  In the first and last Beatitudes, Jesus declares God’s kingdom to be present for those who are blessed.  In the intervening verses he refers to future consolation.”[3]  This is important for two reasons.  First, as D.A. Carson has pointed out, “To begin and end with the same expression is a stylistic device called an ‘inclusio.’  This means that everything bracketed between the two can really be included under the one theme, in this case, the kingdom of heaven.”[4]  Second, this changing tense helps us understand something very important about what Jesus calls “the kingdom of heaven.”  Simply stated, the fact that some of the blessings are present and some are future reveal that the kingdom of Heaven, the kingdom of God, is a reality that is breaking into the kingdom of the world right here and right now in and through the people of God but it is also a future reality that will not be perfectly realized until the grand consummation of all things.

I’ve put together a little image that I think may help us get at this important truth, the kingdom of God as having come but still coming, as being “already/not yet.”

worldkingdom

As I say, this is a very basic image and it is intentionally designed so.  On the left we have the world.  This is the world in which we live.  It is fallen.  It is dead and dying.  It is under the curse of sin.  Satan holds sway here.

Yet the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ is that God has stepped into this fallen world, which He originally made good, and has offered a way for us to be saved through the sacrifice of His Son on the cross and through the resurrection of Jesus from the dead.

When we come to Christ, we are changed from the kingdom of darkness and death and sin to the kingdom of God, which is a kingdom of salvation and light and truth.  The kingdom of God is so much bigger than the world!  It has so much more to offer.  We enter it through the cross, which you will note is there at the center of the overlapping circles.

For our purposes, however, I simply want to note that the kingdoms overlap a bit now in the reign of Christ among His people, the Church.  There was a time in my Christian life when I might not have put that diagram together just like that.  I would have seen the kingdom of the world here, then the cross within it, then perhaps a bridge from the cross to the whole separated kingdom of God.  In other words, there was a time when I saw the kingdom of God as wholly future.  The purpose of Jesus, then, was simply to get me ready for what was coming after death.

However, in reading the Bible I noticed that Jesus did not always use the future tense to speak of the kingdom of heaven.  In fact, He told people to repent for “the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matthew 3:2).  Even more provocatively, I found this in Luke 17:

20 Being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, he answered them, “The kingdom of God is not coming in ways that can be observed, 21 nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There!’ for behold, the kingdom of God is in the midst of you.”

The King James Version translates verse 21 to say, “The kingdom of God is within you.”

Well!  This is an astounding thought.  What this must mean is that there is a sense in which the kingdom of God is coming.  We will not receive it fully and perfectly until we die and stand before our God.  But there must be another sense in which it is already beginning to break into this old and dying kingdom into which we were born.  And that happens in the current reign of Christ in and among His people.

What this means, then, is that the church, believers in Christ, are now equipped to begin modeling what the kingdom of God is in their current lives and relationships while awaiting the complete fruition of this in the days to come.  The kingdom has come.  The kingdom is coming.  And this brings us to the Beatitudes and, indeed, the entire SM.

This means that the Beatitudes are kingdom of heaven proclamations here and now over those who have come and are coming to Christ.  It is a picture of the true state of things.  This world may see them as odd, and may, indeed, see Christianity as being for losers.  But in the kingdom of God and the economy of God, what the world rejects as useless God calls blessed.  Therefore, the poor in spirit are happy and blessed!

I love how N.T. Wright put this.  He wrote, “[The Beatitudes] are a summons to live in the present in the way that will make sense in God’s promised future; because that future has arrived in the present in Jesus of Nazareth.  It may seem upside down, but we are called to believe, with great daring, that it is in fact the right way up.”[5]

Taking all of this into consideration, here is how I have defined the Beatitudes:  The Beatitudes are divine, celebratory pronouncements of present and future joy for those in the Kingdom of God yet living in the world.  They do not appear to make sense in the world because the world is upside-down.

Who are the “Poor in Spirit”?

With this Kingdom perspective in mind, let us turn to the first Beatitude and ask ourselves who these “poor in spirit” are.  Let us begin, first, with the word “poor.”

John MacArthur notes that the word for “poor” used here, ptochos, means “to shrink, cower, or cringe” and was used in Classical Greek “to refer to a person reduced to total destitution, who crouched in a corner begging.  As he held out one hand for alms he often hid his face with the other hand, because he was ashamed of being recognized.  The term did not mean simply poor, but begging poor.”[6]  In other words, Jesus is speaking here of the poorest of the poor.  He is speaking of absolute gutter poverty and destitution.

But what kind of poverty is this?  Is it material poverty?  No, Jesus is speaking of “the poor in spirit.”  The Bible actually never hails poverty per se as a blessed state, nor does it condemn wealth per se as a curse.  To be sure, it often pronounces good news to the poor and oppressed, for whom humility is often a gift.  And it often warns the wealthy, for whom pride is often an inclination.  But it never makes a blanket statement about either.  In truth, a poor man can be proud and a wealthy man can be humble.  In terms of this first Beatitude, we might say that a materially poor man might actually be “rich in spirit” and a materially wealthy man might actually be “poor in spirit.”

No, this is not a simple reference to material poverty.  It is poverty of spirit.  But what is poverty of spirit?  Simply put, to be poor in spirit is to realize your complete bankruptcy of soul outside of the grace of Jesus Christ.  It is to realize that, without God’s saving hand, you are utterly lost and hopeless and condemned.  It is not a statement of worthlessness.  No human being is worthless.  Instead, it is a statement of perspective and the condition of our souls.  It is a recognition of our desperate need for a savior.

Some have defined poverty of spirit as humility.  I think that is not far off.  In truth, the poor in spirit refers to the man or woman who is humbled over his or her lostness, his or her need for a Savior, and his or her poverty outside of the Lord.  It is a recognition that we are not God.  Furthermore, it is brokenness under the weight of the knowledge of what we are without Him.

It is not surprising that the spirit of our proud age hates and detests this idea of being poor in spirit.  Our world does not value humility, lowliness, a recognition of the insufficiency of our own efforts.  On the contrary, our world, in its blindness, treasures the exact opposite, considering mankind to possess inherent rights to power and title and privilege.  As such, it mocks this Beatitude.

Consider, for instance, an article entitled “The Failure of Christianity,” published in 1913 in the journal, Mother Earth, by the atheist, anarchist Emma Goldman.  In it, she said this:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.”

Heaven must be an awfully dull place if the poor in spirit live there. How can anything creative, anything vital, useful and beautiful come from the poor in spirit? The idea conveyed in the Sermon on the Mount is the greatest indictment against the teachings of Christ, because it sees in the poverty of mind and body a virtue, and because it seeks to maintain this virtue by reward and punishment. Every intelligent being realizes that our worst curse is the poverty of the spirit; that it is productive of all evil and misery, of all the injustice and crimes in the world. Every one knows that nothing good ever came or can come of the poor in spirit; surely never liberty, justice, or equality.[7]

Do you see?  To Emma Goldman the poor in the spirit are not blessed, they are cursed.  She would say to us that there is no God to whom we are accountable and there is no God by whom we are saved.  There is no higher power than man before whom we should bend our knee.  But Jesus said precisely the opposite, and everything in our experience confirms the truthfulness of what Jesus has said.

Yes, this Beatitude is hated by the world.  The anti-Christian Roman Emporer who we know as Julian the Apostate used this Beatitude to defend his confiscation of the property of early Christians, saying that he simply wanted to help them enter the Kingdom of Heaven poor.[8]  So the world hates and mocks these words of Jesus.  Against these antagonists of the truth we might remember Jesus’ charge against the church of Laodicea in Revelation 3:17, “For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.”

The world may despise these words, but to us they are the very words of life.  Why?  Because poverty of spirit is how we receive the grace of God in Christ!  Those who are rich in spirit have their hands full of their own perceived majesty and cannot receive Jesus as a result.  The poor in spirit, by contrast, have their arms opened in humble acceptance of all that God will mercifully grant us in Christ…and that is everything.

The Lord spoke through the prophet Isaiah in Isaiah 66:2b and said, “But this is the one to whom I will look:
he who is humble and contrite in spirit
and trembles at my word.”  Do you see the beauty of this?  The Lord looks upon the poor the spirit, “he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at [His] word.”  This is not showy groveling.  This is sincere humility before a holy God.

And that is key:  the recognition of God’s utter holiness.  It is not until we see the splendor of His Spirit that we are able to see the desperation of our spirits.  It is not until we see Him as He is that we are able to see ourselves as we are.  Poverty within us does not come about until we stand in awe of the majesty within Him.  This is why D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones wrote, “The way to become poor in spirit is to look at God.”[9]

See Him, and you will see yourself.  Then you will be poor in spirit, unless you turn from the truth to a lie.

How is the Kingdom of Heaven “Theirs”?

But how are the poor in spirit “blessed”?  In particular, how is the kingdom of heaven “theirs”?  I think that question is most beautifully answered by Jesus Himself in a story He told in Luke 18 about two very different men.  Listen:

9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: 10 “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ 13 But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ 14 I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Ah!  The Pharisee was rich in spirit, was he not?  He thought he had a lot to offer:  “God, I thank you that I am not like other men…”  Then he lists off his resume.  He was haughty.  He was proud.  He did not show genuine humility.  To hear him pray, you wonder why he even felt the need to do so if he was already so wonderful.

But the tax collector, a man deeply despised in that culture, was poor in spirit.  He doesn’t say much, just, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”  And he is immediately blessed by God.  How so?   “I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other.”  The poor in spirit are richly blessed!

The kingdom of heaven is for the poor in spirit because Christ is for the poor in spirit.  In Christ, we inherit the riches of our God.  As Paul says in Romans 8:

12 So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. 13 For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. 14 For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. 15 For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” 16 The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, 17 and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him.

Christ is for the poor in spirit because Christ humbled Himself, even to the point of death on the cross.  He became low for the lowly.  He became poor for the poor in spirit.  He took our poverty and gave us instead His riches!

In “The Ballad of Reading Gaol,” Oscar Wilde wrote, “How else but through a broken heart may Lord Christ enter in?”

Indeed!

Oh blessed the poor in spirit!

Oh happy the humble before God!

 

 



[1] A.T. Robertson, Word Pictures in the New Testament. Vol.1. (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1930), p.39.  On the other hand, Hughes: “Contrary to popular opinion, blessed does not mean ‘happy,’ even though some translations have rendered it this way.  Happiness is a subjective state, a feeling.  But Jesus is not declaring how people feel; rather, he is making an objective statement about what God thinks of them.” R. Kent Hughes, The Sermon on the Mount (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2001), p.17.  But Hughes’ rejection of “happy” is based less on linguistic considerations than on the current, vapid usage of the word in American culture, whose insertion into the interpretation of the Beatitudes he rightly rejects.  Stott recognizes this outright, that “the Greek can and does mean ‘happy,’” but that “it is seriously misleading to render it ‘happy’ in this case.” John Stott, The Beatitudes. John Stott Bible Studies (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Connect, 1998), p.11-12.  However, Carl Vaught has pointed out that there are, in fact, two Greek words for “happiness,” and Matthew chooses the higher one: “The word that Jesus uses at the beginning of his teaching points to the concept of happiness.  There are two words for happiness in Greek that our author could have used.  One is the word eudaimonia and is the term Aristotle uses when he speaks about human happiness in the Nicomachean Ethics.  By contrast, Matthew uses the word makarios, which points beyond human happiness to a divine realm and to the kind of happiness appropriate to it.” Carl G. Vaught, The Sermon on the Mount. (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2001), p.12.

[2] William Barclay, Gospel of Matthew. Vol.1. The Daily Study Bible (Edinburgh: The Saint Andrew Press, 1968), p.83.

[3] Craig L. Blomberg, Matthew. The New American Commentary. Vol.22 (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1992), p.97.

[4] D.A. Carson, Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1987), p.17.

[5] Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone. Part One. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2004), p.38.

[6] John MacArthur, Matthew 1-7. The MacArthur New Testament Commentary (Chicago, IL: Moody Press, 1985), p.145.

[8] Augustine, Sermon on the Mount, Harmony of the Gospels, Homilies of the Gospels. Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers. First Series, Vol.6. ed., Philip Schaff (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2004), p.4, n.10.

[9] D Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1976), p.42.

Matthew 5:1-2

Matthew 5:1-2

1 “Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2 And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying”

 

How shall I begin to lead us through the Sermon on the Mount (SM hereafter)?  You will never know how that question has weighed on me since I announced we would be taking this journey.  That question, “How shall I begin to lead us through the SM,” is roughly analogous to the question, “How shall I reconstruct the great pyramids?” or, “How shall I redirect the Nile River?”

It is a monumental task, and one that has been undertaken by the best minds and hearts of the Christian church throughout two millennia of history.  That is what makes this so daunting:  the fact that so many great men of God have turned their attention to this sermon, and have done so with such startling insight and eloquence, but have all likewise done so with a certain sense of frustration.  For try as we might this sermon recorded in Matthew 5-7 is rightly recognized as the pinnacle of all Christian instruction, the apex of the Christ’s revelation of what life in the Kingdom of God is like.

But that is not the main reason why approaching this sermon is so daunting.  I suppose what makes it so very intimidating and so very frightening, is the fact that every time I begin to read this sermon I find that I am not reading it so much as it is reading me.  This sermon is a painful sermon.  R. Kent Hughes said that this sermon was “violent.”[1]  I tend to agree.  It hits us, time and again, with the glory of Christ and, simultaneously, with the inglorious nature of man.  It shows us our distance from almighty God.  It paints a picture of life in the Kingdom that is positively otherworldly…and yet necessarily this worldly in its intent.  And there is the rub:  the sermon leaves us no room to resign it to the theoretical.  I have long since rejected the notion that Jesus gave us this sermon to create a sense of despair, to show us an utterly unattainable ideal just to crush us so we would crawl to Him in desperation.  Do not misunderstand me:  the result of the sermon, if read rightly, is always that we will crawl to him in desperation.  But the truly frightening thing about this sermon is (a) that Jesus seemed to really mean it and (b) that Jesus seemed to be really calling us to the life outlined therein.

Yes, there is a violence to this sermon in terms of how it wounds us in our shallow faith, our plastic confessions, our superficial Christianity.  But then I remember that figure who stands behind the sermon:  Jesus.  Sometimes His words do feel violent, but never cruelly so, never sadistically so, never violent for the sake of violent.  The person of our loving Lord brings to the table another intriguing thought:  what if Jesus did not preach this sermon to crush us but to heal us?  What if the pain we experience in reading this sermon is not the desired end, but rather the necessary means to the end that is Christ itself?

When I announced that I would be preaching through the SM and that I had encouraged and challenged us all to memorize the sermon, I received an email from a dear friend of mine in another state.  What his email said surprised me, though I knew and know deep down that what it says is true.  Let me share a few parts with you:

Wyman,

I would like to be the last man on earth to discourage you or your church from memorizing the sermon on the mount.  I would be the first in line to say I need this medicine in the worst way and often.   I would like to say a few simple things you already know just so I get to “hear it” again so to speak.

1.  Those who need a “radical recommitment” to Jesus were not likely to have been committed to begin with.  By that I simply mean that what we call “radical commitment” may go away at the first winds of adversity and stay gone for a while.  Those who start out “radically committed” do fail and perhaps often but then the get up and start afresh and anew after each failure.  Radical commitment I am inclined to believe means daily repentance much like some of the medieval monks and the like. (more pain) Much of the “modern” American church is just not that interested in committing to Jesus and living what He taught.  Too painful and hard?

2.   Memorizing the sermon on the mount will naturally lead to some great internalized conflicts in many that will either resolve in abandonment of the truth or the forsaking of lesser things in repentance and commitment to Jesus.  Not much room in the sermon for “gray” or mild fixes.

3.   You as the leader in the effort will quiet likely face some deep-seated and long-held views that very well may have to die or go away to follow fully.  The numbers who take it to heart and do this may be small indeed by the time you get to the end or in other words the “committed” flock may be very small indeed.  Those who can’t, won’t or are unable to follow may begin to view those who do as “weird”, strange and even resent the contrast.   Strife may ensue…

…The glory of Christ and the wonders of His Kingdom as presented in the sermon on the mount is absolutely devastating to the flesh and the “comfortable” thing we call Christianity in America.   It has broken me down to tears and repentance many times mostly due to sinful inclinations that will not give up to do what He teaches us in that simple Kingdom message.  So, my dear friend, I hope and will pray that you find God’s very best but I just had to sound the alarm that the most shocking thing you will find is heart knowledge still ruling that has

no business in there …and a glory of Christ so breathtakingly splendid and exalted as to leave self in a heap of broken shards on the ground.  Our little concept of Christ in the modern western church is so weak and pathetic in so many ways.    Self revelation can be and often is terribly painful, ugly and just down right unbearable at times.   I will pray that Roni can hang while you have your theological construct shattered into a pile of near useless rubble as Christ is lifted up high and glorious in your own “heart’s eyes” as we have made for ourselves a god far too small and of ourselves persons far too big…

…May you find the grace and love to accept the unlovely and the unlovable because the sermon on the mount is going to “produce” a lot of both or at least that has been my experience with it.  It is lovely and it is compelling but it is just as equally costly and hard to do when it involves two or more people.

Do you find that too dramatic?  Soon, you will not.  This sermon searches us and leans against us in ways that make the reading painful.  In his wonderful book, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount, D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones speaks of the beginning of the SM in this way:

These beatitudes crush me to the ground.  They show me my utter helplessness.  Were it not for the new birth, I am undone.  Read and study it, face yourself fin the light of it.  It will drive you to see your ultimate need of the rebirth and the gracious operation of the Holy Spirit.  There is nothing that so leads to the gospel and its grace as the Sermon on the Mount.[2]

Brothers and sisters, let us pray that God wounds us where we need to be wounded so that He might heal us where we need to be healed.  This sermon is a hard tonic, but it is sweet if received with an open heart.  This sermon is violent, but it is the violence of a loving friend who loves us enough to wound us with truths we do not want to hear.  This sermon does wound us…but faithful are the wounds of a friend.  The first time you read this sermon, it may feel like a cross has been dropped across your shoulders…but it is merely the cross that Jesus has called us to carry.  This sermon drives us to our knees…but it is on our knees that we are most able to receive the mercy of our tender Lord.

As we begin journeying through the SM, let me offer an analogy that might help us understand our approach. Hans Dieter Betz likened journeying the SM to touring a great cathedral.

The experience can thus be compared with visiting famous old castles or cathedrals.  Tourists may put in thirty minutes to walk through, just to get an impression, and that is what they get.  But if one begins to study such building with the help of a good guidebook, visions of whole worlds open up.  Whether it is the architecture, the symbols and images, the statues and paintings, or the history that took place in and around the buildings, under closer examination things are bound to become more and more complicated, diverse, and intriguing, with no end in sight.[3]

My intent is not to have us run through the cathedral for thirty minutes.  Instead, let us take our time, walking carefully, slowly, observing as we go the varied and multifaceted layers of this staggering and stupefying sermon.  Let us not miss what is happening in our rush to get through.

How shall we begin, then?  Simply like this:  by defining the what, the where, and the why.  We will approach these questions with a consideration of the first two verses of Matthew 5.

1 “Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2 And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying”

The What?

What is this sermon we begin considering today?  The most simple answer is found in verse 2: “And he opened his mouth and taught them…”  So Matthew 5-7 is a series of teachings from the mouth of Jesus.  They are teachings directed primarily at the disciples, as we learn in verse one: “Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him.”  But do note that while they are initially directed toward His disciples, the crowd is nearby.  Furthermore, chapter seven will tell us that “the crowd was astonished.”

Jesus goes onto the mountain and sits, in the traditional manner of a teaching rabbi.  When He sits, His disciples move toward Him from the crowd.  Yet the instructions are loud enough to be heard by the crowd, who, apparently, move closer to hear the shocking words of the sermon.  The SM, then, is a series of verbal teachings from Jesus, seemingly initially directed toward His followers, but not kept from the crowd at large.

While it is not an insignificant point that these teachings can only be grasped by His disciples, it is furthermore significant that the wider crowd heard them.  There is therefore a sense in which the sermon is offered to the world.  This is likely what was behind John Wesley’s adamant insistence that the SM was not merely for disciples but rather for “all the children of men; the whole race of mankind; the children that were yet unborn; all the generations to come, even to the end of the world, who should ever hear the words of this life.”[4] In a sense, yes, but it is also true that conversion is necessary for the SM to be understood, grasped, and lived.  In other words, the SM is for disciples and for the whole world, but in different kinds of ways.  For disciples, it is light on the path to which they have already committed themselves.  For the world, it is an invitation and a challenge to enter this new way of living.

As we progress, considering the what, the where, and the why, let us construct a definition, building on it as we go.  What is the SM?  The SM is a message delivered by Jesus specifically to His followers but also, beyond them, to everybody who will come to Him. 

The Where?

But it is not just a sermon is it?  It is the sermon on the mount.  Perhaps no sermon has been so geographically defined as this one.  You may be interested to know that the phrase, “the sermon on the mount,” comes from St. Augustine’s 4/5th century commentary that he entitled, Our Lord’s Sermon on the Mount.[5]

Is there any significance in the fact that the sermon is preached on a mountain?  Christians throughout history have tended to believe there is, with some of the theories as to the significance of the location being fanciful and some of them less so.

The author of the anonymous fifth century commentary on Matthew, the Opus Imperfectum in Matthaeum, suggested three reasons why Jesus went up onto the mountain to deliver his sermon:  (1) in order to fulfill Isaiah 40:9 (“Go on up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good news;
lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good news; lift it up, fear not;
 say to the cities of Judah, “Behold your God!”), (2) to show us the high and exalted nature of the things of God, and (3) because the mountain is a symbol of the church, where men and women go today to receive the words of God in Christ.[6]  That last reason seems to me to be reading a bit too much into the location of the SM, though, of course, it is right in asserting that it is in the church that we heard the Word of God today.  Jerome saw a metaphorical significance to the mountain, saying that Jesus went up the mountain “that he might bring the crowds with him to higher things.”  Augustine suggested that the mountain was the chosen place for the sermon in order to show the superiority of the gospel (“the gospel’s higher righteousness”) to the earlier teachings the Lord gave the Hebrews.  The early Christian Chromatius, writing in the 5th century, said that Jesus was trying to draw a contrast to Mt. Sinai, where the law was earlier given to the Jews:  Sinai being a mount of judgment and fear, this mountain being a mountain of blessing and of grace.[7]

Most Christians have tended to agree with Chromatius’ general point.  I certainly do.  It is almost a certainty that Jesus’ going up onto the mountain was intended to evoke an image in the minds of the Jews who witnessed it.  There was a kind of prophetic provocativeness about it.  In truth, it was likely intended to stir a memory.  That image and that memory comes from Exodus 19.  In this chapter, Israel has encamped around Mt. Sinai and God speaks to Moses:

9 And the Lord said to Moses, “Behold, I am coming to you in a thick cloud, that the people may hear when I speak with you, and may also believe you forever.” When Moses told the words of the people to the Lord, 10 the Lord said to Moses, “Go to the people and consecrate them today and tomorrow, and let them wash their garments 11 and be ready for the third day. For on the third day the Lord will come down on Mount Sinai in the sight of all the people. 12 And you shall set limits for the people all around, saying, ‘Take care not to go up into the mountain or touch the edge of it. Whoever touches the mountain shall be put to death. 13 No hand shall touch him, but he shall be stoned or shot; whether beast or man, he shall not live.’ When the trumpet sounds a long blast, they shall come up to the mountain.” 14 So Moses went down from the mountain to the people and consecrated the people; and they washed their garments. 15 And he said to the people, “Be ready for the third day; do not go near a woman.” 16 On the morning of the third day there were thunders and lightnings and a thick cloud on the mountain and a very loud trumpet blast, so that all the people in the camp trembled. 17 Then Moses brought the people out of the camp to meet God, and they took their stand at the foot of the mountain. 18 Now Mount Sinai was wrapped in smoke because the Lord had descended on it in fire. The smoke of it went up like the smoke of a kiln, and the whole mountain trembled greatly. 19 And as the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses spoke, and God answered him in thunder. 20 The Lord came down on Mount Sinai, to the top of the mountain. And the Lord called Moses to the top of the mountain, and Moses went up.

Immediately following this, in Exodus 20, Moses receives the ten commandments from the hand of the Lord.  The wording on Exodus 19:20 is key, and it shares the same language as Matthew 5:1.

Exodus 19:20 – “And the Lord called Moses to the top of the mountain, and Moses went up.”

Matthew 5:1a – “Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain…”

This, again, is provocative and important.  The two mountains are being linked as are, no doubt, the two who went up the mountains, Moses and Jesus.  In the broadest possible terms, what this means is that the SM is doing something to explain more deeply the Law that was given to Moses on the mountain.  The second mountain defines the first.

Specifically, however, I am struck by the contrast in mood and tone imagery surrounding the two mountains.  The mountain Moses ascended, Mt. Sinai, is clothed in awesome power.  The imagery is turbulent and cataclysmic:  fire and smoke and thunder and power surround Mt. Sinai.  Furthermore, fear is on this mountain, for the people are instructed not to touch it lest they die.  This is the mountain of the Law, the mountain of Almighty God.

Sinai is the mountain of God’s pure righteousness unmasked and undiluted.  Upon it, Moses is given the commandments, the great standards that speak of God’s righteousness and of our great distance from it.  Sinai trembles and quakes with divine justice and divine holiness.  It is a mountain of power and of trembling, and well it should be, for Sinai is our rightful judgment and doom, for who can keep this Law?  The Law given thereon is good and right and pure, but, for us, it is unattainable, a sign of our distance from God, a reminder of the wrath to come.  Who can help but tremble before Sinai, the awesome and terrible mountain of a mighty God?

But then I look past Mt. Sinai and past Moses.  I look past them and see another mountain and another who goes upon it.  He does not come to obliterate Sinai.  In fact, He defends the law as good.  Sinai was not a mistake.   It was utterly necessary.  The Law was necessary and good and the Law will stand forever as the standard of a holy God’s righteousness.  No, this second Moses who is greater than Moses did not come to obliterate the law or do away with it.  He came to fulfill it, to accomplish what nobody had ever been able to accomplish.

I am struck by the lack of fear surrounding this second mountain and this second Moses, Jesus.  I am struck by the lack of warnings against drawing near this mountain of the Lord.  Nobody will die for coming to this mountain.  Nobody will be stoned.  Nobody will be executed.  In fact, the crowds come to this mountain, uncertain at first, but then in stark amazement at what they are hearing.  This is the mountain of the Law’s fulfillment, not in any act of man, but in a great, coming act of God in and through Jesus, the Son.

At Mt. Sinai, we tremble.  At this mountain, we rejoice.  At Sinai, we shrink in fear.  At this mountain, we come to the welcome arms of Jesus.  At Sinai, we see our doom.  At this mountain we see our salvation.

All of Scripture is a story of two mountains, one bringing death and judgment, the other revealing life and salvation.  This mountain is saying something very important about the first mountain, Mt. Sinai, and about Moses, the Law, and what it means to stand rightly before God.

Let us therefore continue building our definition.  The SM is a message delivered by Jesus specifically to His followers but also, beyond them, to everybody who will come to Him.  It is the ultimate explanation of God’s righteousness, which is expected of God’s people, and which has been and is fulfilled in Jesus, who calls His followers into this righteous life by calling them into His own life. 

The Why?

But why did Jesus preach this provocative sermon?  Was His intent simply to add three more chapters of content to Matthew’s gospel?  Was He simply trying to be dramatic or poignantly ironic?  Or was there a very concrete reason why He preached this sermon.

To find the answer to the question of why, we must move to the end of the sermon, Matthew 7.

24 “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. 25 And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. 26 And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. 27 And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.”

The SM, then, is the path to wisdom.  We do not mean by “wisdom” mere knowledge or mere ethics.  We mean, rather, the path to life in God.  To reject this life-altering wisdom is to expose ourselves to collapse:  “And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.” Great is the fall of “everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them.”

The SM is life, for is the heartbeat of Jesus.  It is a portrait of Kingdom living[8], painted in vivid and troubling colors for all who will come and set their feet on the path of the cross.  The SM is what life in Jesus looks like.  It is a snapshot of what it looks like when the kingdom of God invades the kingdom of the world in and through the followers of Jesus.

To complete our definition, we can put it like this:  The SM is a message delivered by Jesus specifically to His followers but also, beyond them, to everybody who will come to Him.  It is the ultimate explanation of God’s righteousness, which is expected of God’s people, and which has been and is fulfilled in Jesus, who calls His followers into this righteous life by calling them into His own life.  It is the path of wisdom and of life.  It is the definitive picture of what life in the Kingdom of God looks like and must be.

Jesus invites us to come up on the mountain with Him, to sit and to learn.  More than that, He invites us to come up on the mountain with him and live.

 



[1] R. Kent Hughes, The Sermon on the Mount. (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2001), p.16.

[2] D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1959-1960), p.13

[3] Hans Dieter Betz, The Sermon on the Mount. Hermeneia. (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1995), p.1

[4] John Wesley, Sermons. Vol.1-2. The Works of John Wesley. Vol.5-6, Third Edition (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1998), p.249.

[5] Augustine, Sermon on the Mount, Harmony of the Gospels, Homilies on the Gospels. Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers. First Series, Vol.6. Philip Schaff, ed. (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2004), p.3.

[6] Thomas C. Oden, ed., James . Kellerman, trans., Incomplete Commentary on Matthew (Opus imperfectum). vol.1. Ancient Christian Texts. Thomas C. Oden and Gerald L. Bray, eds. (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2010), p.83-84.

[7] Manlio Simonetti, ed. Matthew 1-13. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. New Testament, vol.Ia. Thomas C. Oden, ed. (Downer’s Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2001), p.71-78.

[8] The Kingdom implications are discussed more fully in the next sermon on Matthew 5:3.

Galatians 6:14-16

Galatians 6:14-16

 

14 But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world. 15 For neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation. 16 And as for all who walk by this rule, peace and mercy be upon them, and upon the Israel of God.

 

I would like to begin my sermon this morning by saying a bad word, an obscene word.  Or, to be more precise, by saying a word that used to be considered obscene two-thousand years ago.  The word has had an interesting journey for reasons we will discuss today, but, make no mistake about it, the word I am going to share with you today was once considered profoundly obscene and profane.

Two millennia ago, in Greece, Rome and the civilized world at that time, this word was largely off limits. It was taboo, obscene, profane.  This word was largely avoided as something beneath the dignity of cultured people.  People knew it happened, of course, the act that this word signified.  It happened not infrequently.  But it was a kind of open secret.  In fact, from the 3rd century onward, the word that rested at the center of this one act was actually used as a vulgar word, a profane word.  History often puts the word on the lips of slaves and prostitutes from that time, but virtually never on the lips of cultured, respectable people.  It was too scandalous to be on the lips of respectable people.  The Roman Varro said that even the sound of this word was too unpleasant for ears to hear.  Martin Hengel said that, to ancient people, this word was “utterly offensive” and “obscene.”[1]  In fact, most writers considered the subject that this word spoke of as so distasteful that they almost never mention it.

The Romans and Greeks practiced this act, but in their writings they referred to the act itself as shameful, infamous, barren, criminal and terrible.  Josephus, an ancient Jewish historian, referred to this act as “the most wretched” of acts.  Cicero called it “that plague.”  The Stoic philosopher Seneca said that what this word signified could only arise from the basest of human emotions, anger.

The word I’m talking about is the word crux in Latin.  In English, we translate crux as “cross.”  Two thousand years ago, and before that even, the word cross was essentially a swear word, a profane word.  It was profane because crucifixion on a cross was reserved for the worst of criminals.  The ancient jurist Julius Paulus (200 A.D.) wrote the Sententia.  In it, he listed the worst punishments for the worst crimes.  The crux (cross) is listed as the summa supplicia.  It sits above crematio (burning) anddecollation (decapitation) in Paulus’ list.

The early Roman opponents of Christianity were shocked and outraged that this new group, the Christians, would present their Lord as having been crucified.  In fact, they considered the Christian focus on the cross as a sign of madness, what Pliny the Younger called amentia, or a mental disorder.  Minucius Felix had one of his literary characters refer to the “sick delusions” of the Christians.  He called Christianity a “senseless and crazy superstition” leading to “old-womanly superstition.”  His main complaint was the fact that Christians dared to worship somebody who had been crucified.  He said:

To say that [the Christians’] ceremonies centre on a man put to death for his crime and on the fatal wood of the cross is to assign to these abandoned wretches sanctuaries which are appropriate to them and the kind of worship they deserve.

In ancient oracle of Apollo, a man complains that his wife has become a Christian.  He is told:

Let her continue as she pleases, persisting in her vain delusions, and lamenting in song a god who died in delusions, who was condemned by judges whose verdict was just, and executed in the prime of life by the worst of deaths, a death bound with iron.

The ancient parody De Morte Peregrini calls Christians “poor devils” for believing in a crucified God. Some early anti-Christian graffiti from the Palatine shows a crucified man with a donkey’s head and the words, “Alexamenos worships his god.”

 

I want you to see this morning how utterly abhorrent the idea of worshipping anybody who had hung on the cursed tree of the cross was to the ancient world.  In truth, it is abhorrent to the world today as well. But more than that, I want you to see how those who knew Jesus, those who walked with Jesus, those who, like Paul, had had an encounter with Jesus came to see in this despised word a thought so beautiful, so unbelievable and so shockingly hopeful that their lives were altered forever.

I. The cross redefines our understanding of ourselves and our abilities. (v.14a)

We are considering today the Apostle Paul’s conclusion to his great letter to the Galatians.  He starts his conclusion in a jarring manner.

14a But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ

“But far be it from me…” Paul writes.  John MacArthur notes that “far be it from me” (or “may it never be”) “translates me genoito, a strong negative that carries the idea of virtual impossibility.”[2]  In other words, it is impossible in Paul’s mind for him to boast about anything other than the cross.

Keeping in mind how obscene this word was to the ancient world, can you imagine how flabbergasting this statement must have sounded to the people of that time?  The great Roman Cicero wrote that the very word “cross” “should be far removed not only from the person of a Roman citizen but from his thoughts, his eyes and his ears,” and here is Paul proclaiming that this word is his greatest boast and his greatest hope!

We must try to get how shocking this idea was!  In the mid-20th century, the Southern Baptist minister Clarence Jordan tried to reclaim this sense of shock for Southern Christians in the 1950s and 60s.  He did this by paraphrasing the verse in his famous Cotton Patch Gospels in this way:  “God forbid that I should ever take pride in anything, except in the lynching of our Lord Jesus Christ.”[3]

At that time, with the great racial upheavals in the South, that was Jordan’s best shot at getting people to understand how unexpected Paul’s boasting in the cross was.  It is hard to think of a parallel in our culture.  The cross, for us, has been domesticated.  We frankly have to work to find the cross offensive. We grew up looking at the cross, singing about the cross and thanking God for the cross.

But the cross was a bloody scene of execution in the ancient world.  It was not a piece of jewelry and it was not on any 100% cotton t-shirts.  It was not pretty, ornate, decorated or stylish.  Musicians did not wear it and athletes did not have it on gold chains.

The idea of the cross as something beautiful would never have been imagined in the ancient world.  To them, it was a brutal, barbaric, but necessary act reserved only for the worst of the worst.

And here we find Paul, in the midst of that same culture, writing “far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

His boasting in the cross was amazing enough, but notice the beginning of the verse:  he proclaims that he will boast in nothing but.  Meaning, the cross of Jesus has now become more important to Paul than his own sense of self, his own accomplishments and his own abilities.

The cross, in other words, changed Paul’s view of Paul.  Why?  Because Paul knew that his greatest efforts could only accomplish the sins for which Christ died on the cross.  Paul knew that, at his peak, he was an enemy of God and blind to the things of God.  Paul had seen himself at what the world would have called “Paul’s best” and he knew that his best was nothing but a sham and a shame.

Church, the cross is where we see ourselves for who we really are.  This is why the cross remains repellant to many people today.  People who want to boast in themselves hate the cross, for the cross calls for us to see our own sins and weaknesses and failings.  The cross demands humility and surrender.

For those who are willing to surrender, however, the cross is our greatest boast and our greatest hope. The way of the cross leads home for the way of the cross leads us from the death of our own rebel souls.  The cross and the resurrection leads us to God through Christ.  The cross redefines us.

Carl F.H. Henry said, “How can anybody be arrogant who stands beside the cross.”  Indeed!  How indeed!

II. The cross establishes a life-giving disconnect between the believer and the world. (v.14b)

Paul then says something even more shocking and enigmatic.  He says:

14b But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.

Some commentators have noted the fact that, biblically, the cross speaks of three crucifixions:  the crucifixion of Jesus, the crucifixion of the world to the believer and the crucifixion of the believer to the world.  Of course, there is only one cross, one crucifixion that matters:  the cross of Jesus.  But what Paul is doing in the latter half of Galatians 6:14 is unpacking the deep and profound implications of Christ’s cross:  “by which the world has been crucified to me, and the I to the world.”

First, in the cross of Jesus, the world has been crucified to us.  Paul is using the word “world” here to refer to the fallen, anti-Christ, rebellious, wicked world order:  its assumptions, its values, its arrogance, its love of evil.  This world does not own us anymore.  It does not control us.  It does not define us.  It does not give us our marching orders.  It does not tell us how we will live.  The world no longer has us in its grasp.

When Christ died on the cross and rose from the grave, the power of sin, death, hell and the world was shattered.  We still live in it and we still battle against it, but we have been given victory over it.

Furthermore, Paul says that he has been crucified to the world.  This communicates a posture of basic hostility between the church of the Lord Jesus Christ and the fallen world order and system.  To the world, Paul is now insane, deluded, foolish and weak.  The world that once respected Paul now think he has lost it and has been duped.  The world now hates Paul’s values, Paul’s new sense of right and wrong, Paul’s devotion to this crucified Jesus.

In his usually subtle way, Martin Luther comments on this verse and says:

“Paul regards the world as damned, and the world regards him as damned.  He abhors all the doctrine, righteousness, and acts of the world as the poison of the devil.  The world detests Paul’s doctrine and acts and regards him as a seditious, pernicious, pestilent fellow and a heretic.  The world’s judgment concerning religion and righteousness before God and the devil are contrary to one another.  God is crucified to the devil, and the devil to God; God condemns the doctrine and acts of the devil (1 John 3:8), and the devil condemns and overthrows the Word and acts of God, for he is a murderer and the father of lies.  So the world condemns the doctrine and life of godly people, calling them pernicious heretics and troubleers of the public peace.  And faithful people call the world the son of the devil, following its father’s steps as a murderer and liar.”[4]

What this means is the cross establishes a life-giving disconnect between the believer and the world. This disconnect can be temporarily difficult, for it means we now live in a world that does not and cannot understand us.  But it is a life-giving disconnect in that it frees us from a world system that, if it had its way, would drag us to hell with it.

Friends, some of you have experienced this disconnect.  You have received opposition in your workplaces or in your homes or, Heaven forbid, even in your churches when you have tried to follow and love Jesus. Some of you have felt the sting of the world’s reproach when you have stood up for what God’s Word calls the truth.  Some of you have paid prices for refusing to abandon the way of Jesus in how you conduct your business, in how you stand for the truth, in how your live as a spouse or as a parent or as a friend.

Please remember that Paul said the world had been crucified to him and him to the world.  This is not a call for abandonment of the world.  We must love those in the world and plead with them to come to Christ, but recognize that the cross of Jesus affects a disconnect that it will be observable, palpable and real when you seek to walk in the ways of the Lord.

III. The cross is the means by which we come into a new way of living. (v.15)

Yes, the cross changed everything for Paul, as he next reveals:

15 For neither circumcision counts for anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation.

The cross affects a new creation.  This is where we cannot speak of the cross without remembering the resurrection.  The two great events go hand in hand.  Because Paul had died to self and embraced the cross and because Paul was so enraptured by the beauty of Christ crucified and risen again that he could boast in nothing else and because Paul’s immersion in the ways of the world had been severed on the cross, Paul was not able to become a new creation in the midst of the renewal of creation itself.  Jesus was making all things new, including Paul!

New Testament scholar Leon Morris notes concerning this verse that “[Paul’s] acceptance of the crucified Christ was not simply an interesting episode:  it was a death to a whole way of life and a rising to a new mode of existence.”[5]  It was a new way of living life.  The only thing that “counts for anything,” to Paul, is “new creation.”  He must now become a new creation in Christ.

In another of his letters, Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:

17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.

He understood what we must understand, that Christ came to replant Eden, to redeem us from the curse, to win the battle!  Our brother John put it prophetically like this in Revelation 21:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. 2 And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. 4 He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” 5 And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” 6 And he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment.

Can you say what Paul has said!  Can you say, “The things that used to matter to me do not matter anymore.  The bigger paycheck does not mean what it used to mean, because of the cross of Jesus.  The perfect job does not mean what it used to mean, because of the cross of Jesus.  Fame does not mean what it used to mean.  The desire to be the best does not mean what it used to mean.  The need for more does not mean what it used to mean.  The frantic search for pleasure does not mean what it used to mean.  The need to be adored, the need to be feared, the need to be respected, the need to be successful, the need to be popular, the need to have it all…none of that matters now to me, all because of the cross of Jesus.  All that matters to me now is becoming a new creation in Christ and being useful in God’s great work of bringing new creation into all things!”

In 1707, the great hymn writer Isaac Watts wrote a hymn expressing the truth of our text this morning. This hymn has been rightly adored throughout the ages.  Charles Wesley, another great hymn writer, said that he would gladly give up all the hymns that he wrote if he could only have written this one.  Hear Isaac Watts’ hymn:

When I survey the wondrous cross

On which the Prince of glory died,

My richest gain I count but loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride.

 

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,

Save in the death of Christ my God!

All the vain things that charm me most,

I sacrifice them to His blood.

 

See from His head, His hands, His feet,

Sorrow and love flow mingled down!

Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,

Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

 

His dying crimson, like a robe,

Spreads o’er His body on the tree;

Then I am dead to all the globe,

And all the globe is dead to me.

 

Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

IV. The cross is an invitation to a life in which God pours His peace and mercy upon us. (v.16)

Paul reveled in the cross.  But the cross, to Paul, was not stuck in time.  Oh, it was a one-time event, an event that, by its nature, could never be repeated.  Yet it was a living, daily reality, not a stagnant, historical truth.  He reveals this in the next verse.

16 And as for all who walk by this rule, peace and mercy be upon them, and upon the Israel of God.

Paul speaks here of the life-altering reality of the cross as a “rule.”  Craig Keener notes that “Jewish teachers described their moral laws derived from the Old Testament law as halakah, which literally means, ‘walking’…Paul blesses those who ‘walk by this rule’ (NASB) as opposed to the ‘rule’ of Jewishhalakah.”[6]

We must remember that, in Galatians, Paul is concerned with freeing the believers in Christ from the legalist rules of the Judaizers who were saying that you must have “Jesus plus”:  Jesus+circumcision, Jesus+kosher, Jesus+following the customs.  In calling the way of the cross a “rule” he is contrasting it with the burdensome “rules” of the false teachers.  As if to say, “If you demand rules of the people of God, let our rule be this:  the rule of the cross, the rule of the crucified and risen Jesus!”

Christ is our halakah, our rule!

Notice that the cross is an invitation to a way of life, a way in which we are invited to walk.

16 And as for all who walk by this rule, peace and mercy be upon them, and upon the Israel of God.

We have come to treat the cross as a bank of salvation that we rob and leave.  We have come to treat the cross as a pantry that we raid for eternal goodies.

But the cross is a way, it is a life.  We walk in it and by it and in the shadow of it.  The result:  “peace and mercy.”

Let us return to the cross as a living reality, an ever-present reminder and motivation.  Let us free it from its status in the religious museum of our own customs.

The way of the cross leads home.  It leads to Jesus.  It leads to life.

Love the cross of Christ.

May the Christ who took the cross change you now and forever.

 



[1] Martin Hengel. Crucifixion. (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress Press, 1977), p.22.  The many quotations and references in the opening illustration for this sermon come from Hengel’s tremendous and very helpful work.

[2] John MacArthur, Jr., Galatians. The MacArthur New Testament Commentary. (Chicago, IL: Moody Press, 1987), p.204.

[3] Quoted in Timothy George, Galatians. The New American Commentary. Vol.30 (Nasvhille, TN: Broadman and Holman, 1994), p.436.

[4] Martin Luther, Galatians. The Crossway Classics Commentaries. Eds. Alister McGrath and J.I. Packer (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 1998), p.299-300.

[5] Leon Morris, Galatians. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1996), p.189.

[6] Craig Keener, The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1993), p.534,537.

John 21:1-19

John 21:1-19

 

1 After this Jesus revealed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias, and he revealed himself in this way. 2 Simon Peter, Thomas (called the Twin), Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples were together. 3 Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing. 4 Just as day was breaking, Jesus stood on the shore; yet the disciples did not know that it was Jesus.5 Jesus said to them, “Children, do you have any fish?” They answered him, “No.” 6 He said to them, “Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in, because of the quantity of fish. 7 That disciple whom Jesus loved therefore said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his outer garment, for he was stripped for work, and threw himself into the sea. 8 The other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, but about a hundred yards off.9 When they got out on land, they saw a charcoal fire in place, with fish laid out on it, and bread. 10 Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.” 11 So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, 153 of them. And although there were so many, the net was not torn. 12 Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” Now none of the disciples dared ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord. 13 Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and so with the fish. 14 This was now the third time that Jesus was revealed to the disciples after he was raised from the dead. 15 When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Feed my lambs.” 16 He said to him a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Tend my sheep.” 17 He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. 18 Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.” 19 (This he said to show by what kind of death he was to glorify God.) And after saying this he said to him, “Follow me.” 20 Peter turned and saw the disciple whom Jesus loved following them, the one who also had leaned back against him during the supper and had said, “Lord, who is it that is going to betray you?” 21 When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?” 22 Jesus said to him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!” 23 So the saying spread abroad among the brothers that this disciple was not to die; yet Jesus did not say to him that he was not to die, but, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you?” 24 This is the disciple who is bearing witness about these things, and who has written these things, and we know that his testimony is true. 25 Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.

 

Everybody has had to eat crow before.  Do you know what I mean?  “Eating crow” as an idiom that refers to that awkward and painful moment when you have to admit you were wrong, when you have to own up to the fact that not only are you wrong but you are wrong after swearing that you were right!

Wikipedia says that the phrase “eating crow” likely comes from a story from the mid-nineteenth century about a New York farmer who answers his boarders’ complaints about the edibility of the food they are being served with the statement, “I kin eat anything!”  So the boarders take a crow, stuff it with Scotch snuff, and give it to the farmer.  He eats it!  The story ends with the farmer saying, “I kin eat a crow, but I be darned if I hanker after it!”

A post on Phrases.org quotes an 1888 Atlanta Constitution article claiming that, in the War of 1812, during an armistice, a New Englander crossed the Niagra River to hunt and ended up shooting a crow.  A British soldier heard the shot, found the soldier and wanted to humiliate him for crossing the river.  The British soldier was unarmed, so he tricked the New Englander by complimenting his fine shot and his fine gun.  He asked if he could hold the gun.  The New Englander agreed and handed it over.  Immediately the British soldier turned the man’s gun back on him, reprimanded him for crossing the river into their territory, and demanded that he take a bite out of the crow!  The New Englander did so.  The British soldier gave him his gun back and told him to go back to his side of the river.  Immediately, however, the New Englander turned the gun on the British soldier and demanded that he eat the whole crow raw!  At gunpoint, he forced him to do just that.

Whatever its origins, eating crow is not pleasant.  It is especially unpleasant when it follows a bold proclamation or assertion that turns out to be wrong.

Maybe the greatest example of eating crow in all the world is Peter having to face Jesus after denying Him three times.  Peter had to eat crow.  After all, as Matthew 26 tells us, Peter had earlier twice proclaimed that he would never deny or abandon the Lord:

30 And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. 31 Then Jesus said to them, “You will all fall away because of me this night. For it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.’ 32 But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.” 33 Peter answered him, “Though they all fall away because of you, I will never fall away.” 34 Jesus said to him, “Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.” 35 Peter said to him, “Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!” And all the disciples said the same.

Of course, we know what became of Peter’s great boast.  Not only did he deny Jesus, he did so three times!

Yes, Peter had to eat crow.  But, more than that, Peter needed to be restored.  He needed somehow to start putting the pieces of his life back together again.  He needed a new start.  He needed forgiveness. He needed a way, not to forget his tragic error, but to see it, understand it, be forgiven of it and move forward from it.

How about you?  How about you?  Do you need to start over again?  Is there something you need to own, look at, be forgiven of then let go?  Are there any crows you need to eat, any humble pies on which you need to dine?

Forgiveness.  Restoration.  Putting the pieces back together again.

How do we do this?  How do we begin?  How do you start over when you have really, really messed up?

John 20 is very helpful here, for John 20 shows us how Jesus restored Peter after Peter’s infamous fall. As such, John 20 also shows us how to be restored, how to live again, how to get back to living after we have dropped the ball.

Let us consider this amazing text!

I. To Be Restored, Peter Needed to Return to the Scene of His Sin and Deal With It. (v.1-14)

The first step to restoration is looking your sin square in the face and owning it for the crime that it is. We simply must not avoid the ugly implications of what we have done in our sins against God.  In order to do this, we must let the Holy Spirit bring us face to face with what we have done.  We must let Him take us back to the scene of the crime if we are ever to be free of the crime we have committed.  This happens with Peter in an interesting and subtle way.

Peter has denied Jesus.  Christ was crucified.  Christ was buried.  But then Peter stood at the empty tomb and saw that Christ had risen.  Christ had also already appeared to all of the disciples.

So Peter knew that Christ was risen, but there is evidence even still that Peter did not fully understand all that this meant and all that this would mean for him and for his future.  And who can blame him?  It was a stunning and incomprehensible turn of events.  He no doubt rejoiced that Christ had come, but it yet remained for his own personal encounter with Christ, his own restoration to Christ, to take place in a meaningful way.  The denials, in Peter’s mind, likely hung like an awkward elephant in the room, an issue he knew probably needed to be addressed but an issue he likely dreaded addressing.  Even so, it was crucial for Peter to address what he had done, not so that Jesus could heap shame upon him, but so that Jesus could restore him, heal him and call him to further and greater ministry.

When we find Peter in chapter 20, he and the others have returned to their former life.  They have taken up their nets again.  This does not mean they have abandoned Jesus yet again.  It simply means that they have defaulted to what they knew best in the midst of their uncertainty about the future course of their lives.  They went back to fishing.  While fishing, however, the Lord Jesus comes, and He comes to restore Peter.

1 After this Jesus revealed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias, and he revealed himself in this way. 2 Simon Peter, Thomas (called the Twin), Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples were together.3 Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing. 4 Just as day was breaking, Jesus stood on the shore; yet the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. 5 Jesus said to them, “Children, do you have any fish?” They answered him, “No.”6 He said to them, “Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in, because of the quantity of fish.7a That disciple whom Jesus loved therefore said to Peter, “It is the Lord!”

It is an amazing scene.  Jesus comes to the fishing disciples and reveals Himself to them yet again, this time through a miraculous catch of fish.  They have been laboring in vain.  Jesus, unrecognized, calls to them from the shore to throw the nets on the other side.  When they do, they pull in an amazing catch. Humorously, it is once again John who must assist Peter in recognizing the Lord.  (I wait with baited breath to ask John and Peter in glory if they, in fact, really cared for one another at this time!  Ha!)

7b When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his outer garment, for he was stripped for work, and threw himself into the sea. 8 The other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, but about a hundred yards off. 9 When they got out on land, they saw a charcoal fire in place, with fish laid out on it, and bread. 10 Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.” 11 So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, 153 of them. And although there were so many, the net was not torn. 12 Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” Now none of the disciples dared ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord. 13 Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and so with the fish. 14 This was now the third time that Jesus was revealed to the disciples after he was raised from the dead.

Wow!  Peter’s heart jumps!  It is the Lord!  He has seen Him twice already, but those seemed to have been fairly limited, momentary meetings.  Anyway, it is not like it gets old seeing your recently dead friend yet again!

Peter hurls himself into the sea and swims to shore.  There he finds Jesus, on the shore, before a charcoal fire, inviting them to bring fish for a meal.  He invites them to come to the fire.

“Come and have breakfast!”

Come and dine.

Come to the fire.

Come, Peter, and stand around the charcoal fire.

A charcoal fire.

charcoal fire.

An interesting detail:  charcoal.  Jesus prepared a charcoal fire.

The word “charcoal” is used only twice in the entire New Testament.  Only twice.

The second time is here, in verse 9:  “They saw a charcoal fire in place.”

And the first time charcoal is mentioned?  It is close by, just two chapters prior.  We find it in John 18. Do you remember?

18 Now the servants and officers had made a charcoal fire, because it was cold, and they were standing and warming themselves. Peter also was with them, standing and warming himself.

Do you remember John 18?  It was set in the courtyard of the high priest, at the dwelling of (apparently) Annas and Caiaphas.  It is where Jesus was taken after Judas betrayed Him in Gethsemane.  It is where Jesus was questioned by Annas and struck in the face by Annas’ servant.

It is where the people had made a charcoal fire to fight back the cold.

It is where Peter stood warming himself during Jesus’ interrogation.

It is…where Peter denied Jesus.

In chapter 18, Peter denies Jesus at a charcoal fire.

In chapter 20, Jesus invites Peter…to a charcoal fire.

Have you ever been out somewhere and something triggers your senses and carries you back to a moment in your life?  Maybe it is a song.  That happens to me sometimes.  I can hear a song and suddenly I am back in high school or college or maybe I am a little boy again.  The sound triggers something:  a member, a recollection, a thought you once had, a feeling.

Smells can do that too.  Have you ever smelled something and you are immediately carried back in time to a place, a situation or a circumstance that was buried in your memory?  Maybe you smell a smell and instantly, in your mind, it is Christmas at your grandparents.  The food is spread out before you.  People are laughing and talking.  Kids are running around.  You smile as you remember.  The smell helped you remember.

Sometimes this can be painful.  A sound, a sight, a smell can take you back to some places you do not want to go:  an awkward moment, a painful moment, an embarrassing situation, a moment you regret.

The last time Peter smelled charcoal he was denying the Lord Jesus, and the Lord Jesus here invites him right back to the smell of his shame.  No doubt when the scent hit his nostrils Peter paused.  No doubt he was carried back to a moment he desperately wanted to forget.

Did their eyes meet over the fire?  It had happened before, remember?  Their eyes met over that last fire, right on the heels of the third denial and the cock crowing Peter’s shame.

Did Peter stutter when he smelled this fire?  Did he pause?

What is Jesus doing here?  I believe He is taking Peter back to the scene of his sin so that Peter can finally be rid of his shame.  I think Jesus has to wound Peter with memory before Peter is really ready to move past His sin.  After all, Jesus paid the price for those denials on the cross.  It has been paid for, but now it needs to be abandoned.

Peter needs to let go.  Peter needs to be restored.  Jesus takes Peter back to the fire of his denials and transforms it into a fire of restoration and forgiveness.  In doing so, Jesus rescues Peter from his shame and turns a terrible memory into a present and future occasion for joy.  In other words, after this moment, the smell of charcoal will not shame Peter, it will cause him to rejoice.  From this point onward, the smell will not make him think of his own shame but rather of Christ’s own grace.  But Peter has to take this awkward, painful journey of recognition and pain and acknowledgment to get there.

A question:  have you accepted the Lord’s invitation to come to Him so that He can free you from your sin?  Have you come to the fire of remembrance so that He can forgive you and set you free?

How many Christians are miserable because they refuse to see their sin for what it is?  How many Christians want sweet fellowship with Jesus without having to deal with what they have done?  How many Christians refuse to come back to the fire with Jesus so that he can set them free?

Unbeliever, how about you?  How many unbelievers avoid Jesus resolutely because they know what they will have to remember if they come to Him?

Friends, the Lord does not intend for you to live in guilt and shame and fear.  When He forgives, He casts your sins far from you.  The painful remembrances of past sins can indeed be transformed into beautiful reminders of God’s grace, but only if you will let Jesus deal with you where you are and set you free.

Oh, do not avoid the awkward encounter that reminds you of what you have done.  It is only in facing the truth about our sins that we can ever be free from our sins.  This is precisely why Jesus came:  to set you free.

II. To Be Restored, Peter Needed to Reaffirm His Love for Christ. (v.15-19)

Peter must face his sin, but Jesus is not conducting an experiment in cruelty here.  He is not rubbing Peter’s face in his sins.  He does not do that.  No, we must face them so that we can repent of them so that we can be free of them.  We must be honest with ourselves.  But Jesus brings restoration on the heels of this recognition.  He builds us once we have been broken under the weight of our sin.  Behold the grace of God:

15 When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Feed my lambs.” 16 He said to him a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Tend my sheep.” 17 He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. 18 Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.” 19 (This he said to show by what kind of death he was to glorify God.) And after saying this he said to him, “Follow me.”

Jesus does two things here:  He calls Peter to confess his love for Jesus then He essentially reinstates Him to mission and ministry by prophesying that Peter will, in fact, follow Jesus to the point of suffering for Him.

In calling Peter to confess his devotion to Christ, Jesus asks him three questions, each asking if Peter loves Jesus.  Some have pointed out that in the first two questions Jesus uses the word “agape” for love whereas Peter answers with the word “phileo.”  “Peter, do you agape me?”  “Yes, Lord, I phileo you.” The difference between “agape” and “phileo” is, generally, that “agape” refers to perfect, pure love, the love of God, and “phileo” refers to something like “friendship” or the love between friends.  In His third question, however, Jesus uses Peter’s word, “phileo,” instead of “agape.”

Many see this as Jesus meeting Peter where he is.  Peter is hesitant to proclaim that he has “agape” because he knows his failures and weaknesses now all too well.  And, the thought is, that Jesus finally accepts what Peter can give, “phileo” love.  In this way, Jesus is accepting the love that Peter is able to give, the love of a mustard seed as it were.

Others suggest that parsing these two words for love in such a way as to find the previously mentioned relational dynamic between Jesus and Peter is forced and is reading too much into this, and perhaps they are right.  Even so, it is an interesting observation to make and one that can encourage us.  No doubt Peter did struggle to answer Jesus’ questions.  In light of his denials, he surely struggled with how to respond to Jesus.  But the key is that Jesus gave Him the opportunity to proclaim his love and devotion and did not cast him out.

Furthermore, there is no denying that Jesus asks Peter about his love three times.  In light of Peter’s three denials, these three opportunities to profess his faith and love cannot be seen as accidental or irrelevant.

Peter denies Jesus three times.

Jesus asks Peter if he loves Him three times.

It is an awesome thing to behold!  Jesus once again is taking Peter back to the scene of the crime, to the memory of his three denials, but He does so to restore, not to condemn.  He gives Peter the opportunity to profess his love three times just as Peter had denied his love three times.

It is an amazing thing how God can build devotion on the ruins of our denials, how God can lead us to love in the very pangs of our previous betrayals.  You do not love best by denying your denials.  You love best by acknowledging that sometimes we have not loved at all.

Jesus gives Peter the opportunity to reaffirm his love.  He gives us the very same.

III. To Be Restored, Peter Needed to Stop Worrying About Others and Focus on His Own Walk With Jesus. (v.20-25)

There was one final step that Peter needed to take, and he revealed his need to take it in a question he asked Jesus about John.

20 Peter turned and saw the disciple whom Jesus loved following them, the one who also had leaned back against him during the supper and had said, “Lord, who is it that is going to betray you?” 21 When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?” 

Is it not amazing how quickly we can turn our attention to others when God is trying to work on us?  Of course, Peter is not suggesting that John is in sin.  Rather, he is inquiring about John’s ultimate earthly fate since Jesus had just intimated to Peter that he, Peter, would undergo persecution.  Even so, is it not pitiful and typical how Peter, only just restored from one of the most infamous sins in world history, and only just made the recipient of shocking, unexpected and unmerited grace, immediately begins to wonder about somebody else, in this case, John?

How quickly our just-forgiven eyes turn to others!  Jesus’ response is candid and should never be forgotten.

22 Jesus said to him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!” 23 So the saying spread abroad among the brothers that this disciple was not to die; yet Jesus did not say to him that he was not to die, but, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you?” 24 This is the disciple who is bearing witness about these things, and who has written these things, and we know that his testimony is true. 25 Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.

 
“What is that to you?”

When God is working on us, why do we so quickly think about others?  “What about her,” we ask, “What about him?”

I suspect we do this because once we have convinced ourselves of forgiveness, we want to move on, assert spiritual authority over others and try to forget the awkward fact that we are still in need of God’s help, we are still in need of God’s correction, we are still in need of the shaping hand of God.

More times than not, we try to turn the focus on others in an effort to cut short a process of correction that has yet to reach its completion.  We want God’s work with us to be quick, simple and painless.  If we can turn the spotlight on others, we can turn it off of ourselves.

Perhaps Peter’s issue had less to do with genuine concern for or even curiosity about John than it did with concern over Peter no longer being the issue!

Brothers and sisters in Christ:  for you, you are the first issue as far as obedience is concerned.  Do not try to change the subject when God is trying to work on you.  Do not try to bring others into the issue when, at the root of it all, you are your own issue.

There are Christians who never become what they could be in Christ because they are too busy with the business of others.  There are Christians whose houses never seem to be in order because they are always meddling in other people’s houses.  Peter wanted to talk about John, but Jesus was not through talking about Peter.

Do you see the loving, graceful, chastening, shaping, correcting, healing hand of our Savior?  Look at the Savior who restores us.  Look at the Savior who forgives us.  Look at the Savior who turns deniers into champions and sinners into saints.

Look at your sin honestly…then look at the Savior who died to forgive you of your sins.

Look at your crimes without flinching…then look at His cross without doubting.

Jesus, the God who restores, the God who makes all things new.

John 20:11-31

John 20:11-31

 

11 But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb. 12 And she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. 13 They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”14 Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” 16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher). 17 Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” 18 Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”—and that he had said these things to her. 19 On the evening of that day, the first day of the week, the doors being locked where the disciples were for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” 20 When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord.21 Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.” 22 And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. 23 If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you withhold forgiveness from any, it is withheld.” 24 Now Thomas, one of the Twelve, called the Twin, was not with them when Jesus came. 25 So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.”26 Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.”27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.” 28 Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” 29 Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” 30 Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; 31 but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

 

This day is the great day for Christians…the greatest day.  You have gathered here this morning, of all mornings, whether you fully realize this or not, because on this day the Lord Jesus rose from the dead, defeated sin death and Hell and broke the shackles of death in which He was bound on the cross.

Without this day, the Church of the Lord Jesus has no foundation for its existence and none of us have any hope at all.

Christopher Buckley is the son of the late William F. and Priscilla Buckley.  A well-known writer in his own right, Christopher Buckley wrote an interesting and sometimes troubling memoir of his parents and especially of their deaths entitled, Losing Mum and Pup.  In it, Buckley recounts how he struggled to tell his late father, William F. Buckley, that he, their son, was not a believer in Jesus Christ.  Christopher writes:

This was not the moment to break what remained of his heart by telling him that although I greatly admired the teachings of Jesus, I had long ago stopped believing that he had risen from the dead; it’s an honest enough doubt, really, but one that rather undercuts the supernatural aspect of Christianity.[1]

Yes, the rejection of the resurrection does “rather undercut the supernatural aspect of Christianity.”  It is a tragic position for Christopher Buckley to hold, but at least he understands the significance of the resurrection and what it means when we reject it.  In this regard, he is more honest than some churchmen.

For instance, some years ago, a magazine in England asked forty-three Anglican bishops if they believed in the literal, physical, bodily resurrection of Jesus.  “Most answered a simple ‘yes,’ while the bishops of Bradford, Oxford, and Southwell did not answer at all. Bishop Richard Lewis of St. Edmundsbury and Ipswich responded through his press secretary, ‘It is immaterial whether Christ was resurrected in body or spirit.’”[2]

Can you imagine a poorer choice of words, by the way?  It is “immaterial” whether or not Jesus rose bodily from the grave?  If these words from the lips of a churchman did not make me want to cry, I would laugh.

Of course it is material whether or not Jesus rose bodily!  His resurrection is the cornerstone of our faith, and without it all is in vain.  The Apostle Paul proclaimed in 1 Corinthians 15:

13 But if there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised. 14 And if Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain. 15 We are even found to be misrepresenting God, because we testified about God that he raised Christ, whom he did not raise if it is true that the dead are not raised. 16 For if the dead are not raised, not even Christ has been raised. 17 And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. 18 Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. 19 If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.

Yes, remove the resurrection of Jesus Christ and you remove the cornerstone doctrine of our faith.  Wisely and well did Arnold Toynbee exclaim, “Find the body of that Jew, and Christianity crumbles into ruins.”

Yes, the resurrection matters, and so we turn to it yet again this day.  I would like for us to see and encounter the risen Christ today.  In particular, I would like for us to consider some strange things Jesus did when He rose from the dead.  I would like for us to consider the odd behavior of the resurrected Jesus and what it means for us today.

I.  The Resurrected Jesus Refuses to be Held (v.11-18)

We begin with Mary Magdalene.  She had an interesting history with Jesus.  In Luke 8:2, Luke speaks of her as, “Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out.”  So Jesus had exorcised demons from this woman.  He had healed her.  As a result, she followed Him.

We have already noted how, when almost all of His disciples abandoned Him at His moment of trial, Mary Magdalene stood with some of the other women and John nearby.  In other words, Mary loved the Lord Jesus. She was devoted to Him.  Her reaction to finding the tomb empty is therefore perfectly understandable.

11 But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb. 12 And she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. 13 They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”

Certainly we understand and can sympathize with Mary’s pain.  The horrors of the cross were trying enough, but the thought of His body being placed elsewhere or worse was simply too much.  So she grieves.  As she does so, she is asked the same question the angels asked, but, this time, by a man she assumes is the gardener.

14 Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.”

This stranger repeats the question:  “Woman, why are you weeping?  Whom are you seeking?”  She pleads with this man for help, asking him to share with her any information she might have on the body of her Master.  What happens next is astounding:

16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher).

To her amazement, and ours, it is Jesus!  Try to imagine that you have never heard this story before.  Try to imagine that you are utterly convinced that Jesus is dead.  And now imagine that He stands here before you.  It is only our overfamiliarity with the story that makes it less astounding.  He was dead…now He lives!  In her exuberant shock, she grabs hold of Jesus.  His response is enigmatic and puzzling.

17 Jesus said to her, “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” 18 Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”—and that he had said these things to her.

When I speak of the odd behavior of the risen Jesus, this is what I mean.  What could be more natural and more instinctive than for Mary to grab hold of Jesus.  He was crucified.  Now He lives!  She clings to him with unhinged joy, and He responds:  “Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers…”

Interpreters over the years have wrestled with what this all means.  Rightly so.  It is a tantalizing and mysterious statement.

Some things seem clear enough.  For instance, whatever else is happening, she was not to cling to Him because He had a task for her.  He needed her to go to the disciples with the message of the resurrection.  In this sense it means, “Let go of me for I have a job for you.”

But the immediate reason for His call for her to let Him go is, “for I have not yet ascended to the Father.”  In other words, while Jesus did not begrudge Mary’s ecstatic joy or rebuke her for grabbing hold of Him, He needed for her to understand that His work was not yet done and that His current place was not His final place.  He had yet to ascend.

This is utterly crucial.  It was crucial that Mary not think that things were simply going to go back to the way they were, that His standing before her was the period at the end of the sentence.  The ascension of the Son back to the Father was utterly crucial, as Paul noted in Romans 8:

33 Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. 34 Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised— who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. 35a Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?

He is risen, but He must ascend.  He must take His place at the right hand of the Father where He makes intercession on our behalf, speaking to the Father of His bride, the church, and proclaiming our innocence through His blood.

It is as if He is saying, “Do not cling to me.  I know you are happy.  I am too.  But my work is not yet done.  I cannot stay here forever.  While our relationship will continue forever, it will not be in this form.  Mary, you must let Me go.”

Is that not an odd and amazing and difficult and beautiful thing for Jesus to say?  He asks Mary to let Him go. Of course, this seems absolutely right when you consider the awesome truth of Easter.

We must let Jesus do what He has come to do.  We cannot cling to Him as if He belongs only to us, as if He came merely to establish a pipeline for our own private devotions, as if I and I alone am His sole audience.  He came to die and ascend back to His place in glory.

Easter is about setting things free.  Jesus was set free from death.  We have been set free from sin, death and hell. We even must set Jesus free from our own personal efforts, no matter how well intentioned, to cling to Him, to keep Him right here with me, with us.  He has a commission, a task, a calling.  He must ascend to the Father.

Easter is about setting things free.  Easter is about not clinging to what needs to be let loose.

For instance, Gregory of Nyssa, the fourth century theologian and preacher and Bishop of Nyssa in Cappadocia, used his Easter message from the year 379 AD to condemn slavery.  Gregory’s 379 AD sermon stands as one of the earliest attacks on the institution of slavery in the history of the world.  He was not the first to attack slavery. The book of Philemon and the New Testament call for the recognition that, in Christ, there is “neither slave nor free” (Galatians 3:28) had already sought to undermine the institution.  As David Bentley Hart explains:

“Moreover, ever since 321, when Constantine had granted the churches the power of legally certifying manumissions (the power of manumission in ecclesia), propertied Christians had often taken Easter as an occasion for emancipating slaves, and Gregory was no doubt hoping to encourage his parishioners to follow the custom.”[3]

What was the connection between Easter and the emancipation of slaves?  Why on this day did some wealthy Christians let their slaves go free?  Why on this day did Gregory preach against the institution of slavery?

It is because Easter is when we stop clinging.  Mary had to stop clinging to Jesus.  She had to let Him complete the task for which He had come.  Thomas will have to stop clinging to his doubt.  Peter had to stop clinging to his guilt.  Many of the early Christians came to stop clinging to their slaves.

How about you?  What do you need to stop clinging to this morning?  What do you need to release?

The Lord Jesus has ascended and now sits at the right hand of the Father.  He is making intercession for all who have called on His name.  What do you need to let go of for Him?

II.  The Resurrected Jesus Breathes on the Disciples (v.19-23)

But this is not the only odd thing that Jesus does.  He next comes to His disciples, and He comes in a most unexpected way.

19 On the evening of that day, the first day of the week, the doors being locked where the disciples were for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” 20 When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord. 21 Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.”

It is not surprising that Jesus says twice, “Peace be with you.”  Can you imagine the jolting shock of Jesus suddenly appearing in the room with them?!  Whoa!  So He says, “Peace be with you…Peace be with you!”  He then does things:  (1) He shows them that it is really Him (“he showed them his hands and his side”) and He commissions them (“As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.”)  On the heels of this commissioning, He does something that is most unexpected.

22 And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.23 If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you withhold forgiveness from any, it is withheld.”

How wonderfully and gloriously confounding this is!  Why does He breathe upon them?  The text gives us the most immediate reason:  “Receive the Holy Spirit.”  This means that, at least in a foreshadowing and anticipatory way, Christ is giving them the power of the Spirit.  Of course, the Spirit will come in its full force at Pentecost after the ascension, but He confers upon them His Spirit, His power and His abiding presence.  This breathing is directly linked with the commission, “so I am sending you.”  In other words, they go out in the power of the breath, the Spirit of the living God.

But something else is happening here, too, something even more startling.  The text says, “he breathed on them.”  Where have we heard this before?

You will recall that when we looked at John’s account of Jesus in Gethsemane, we linked Gethsemane to Eden. We brought the New Testament idea of Christ as the “second Adam” into play at that time, showing that Christ came as the second Adam to undo the damage that the first Adam had done in Eden.  In this way, we saw that Christ came to usher in a new creation, to restore the people of God to right standing with their God.

So with that in mind, I think about this image:  “he breathed on them.”

“He breathed on them.”

“He breathed on them.”

Ah, do you remember the story of creation from Genesis?  In Genesis 2, we find this fascinating detail of the creation of man:

7 then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.

What is happening here is nothing less than Christ’s proclamation that through His death and resurrection all who come to Him are resurrected as well.

7 then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.

 

22a And when he had said this, he breathed on them

Jesus came to restore Eden, to take us back to the tree of our shame and give us, instead of a curse, forgiveness. He took the curse on the tree of our shame and then destroyed the curse through the victory of the empty tomb.

Jesus is in the business of breathing life into dead things.  The Bible says we are dead in our sins, that “the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23).

We are dead in our sins.

But when we come to Christ, He breathes life into us.  He breathes into us and we live!

“For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6:23)

Jesus breathes on the disciples!  He breathes power and life into their frightened souls.

III.  The Resurrected Jesus Invites a Touch of Faith then Commends Faith that Does Not Need a Touch (v.24-31)

Then He has an odd encounter with Thomas.  Now, Thomas missed the first encounter with Jesus, as the Bible tells us.

24 Now Thomas, one of the Twelve, called the Twin, was not with them when Jesus came.25 So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.” 26 Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.”

Once again Jesus comes and once again Jesus bids them have peace.

27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.” 28 Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” 29 Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

How fascinating!  The resurrected Jesus invites a touch of faith then commends faith that does not need a touch.

You will note the difference between Jesus’ approach to Mary Magdalene and Jesus’ approach to Thomas.  He seems say opposite things to them:  to Mary, “Stop clinging,” to Thomas, “Come touch.”  It is wonderful how Jesus deals with each of us right where we are and on the basis of what we need.

He offers physical proof to Thomas.  There is no evidence that Thomas actually touched Him.  Instead, the very offer seems to move Thomas to his amazing proclamation, “My Lord and my God!”  He is moved by what he has seen and he is moved by the offer of physical proof.  So Thomas believes and Thomas worships.

Then Jesus says, “Have you believed because you have seen me?  Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”  This is a significant thing for Jesus to say, for, obviously, the vast majority of people who have come to Christ throughout human history have not had the great option that Thomas had to touch the physical body of Jesus.  The vast, vast majority of believers over the last two thousand years are counted among “those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

I do not believe Jesus’ intent is to rebuke Thomas or criticize his faith.  I think He is simply saying that it is a beautiful thing and blessed thing when a man or woman or boy girl believes simply on the basis of God’s Word, without the need for extra proof.  Again, as a matter of necessity, this includes all of this.

No doubt, for this reason, John moves on to conclude the chapter in this way:

30 Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; 31 but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

Do you see the connection between verses 29 and 31?

29 Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

 

31 but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

We are the blessed ones “who have not seen and yet have believed.”  We are the blessed ones that have believed and “by believing…have life in his name.”

The encounter with Thomas, as the encounter with Mary Magdalene, as the encounter with the disciples upon whom He breathed, are all foreshadowings of the encounters He has with every person who calls upon His name. This day, this Easter day, and the events which we remember and celebrate on this day, are for us as much as they are for them.

He has risen so that we might believe.  He lives, and we can live through Him.  If, like Thomas, we dare to believe in Christ and we dare to see Him as our Lord and our God, we will have life and life eternal.

This Easter is for you.

May you live as He lives.  May you come to Jesus and be saved this day. 



[1] Christopher Buckley. Losing Mum and Pup: A Memoir. Kindle Loc. 1643-45.

[2] Richard John Neuhaus, “While We’re At It,” First Things.  November 2001.

[3] David Bentley Hart, Atheist Delusions. (Yale University Press), Kindle Loc. 2367-3311.

John 20:1-10

John 20:1-10

We have gathered here early on this morning, in this “Sunrise Service,” because the empty tomb was discovered early in the morning.  As such, this morning has helped us to see every morning as a reminder of Easter, as a reminder of that most important of mornings.  Every morning whispers a resurrection hallelujah because every morning is a kind of resurrection.  As that great Scottish sage George MacDonald wrote:

The world is full of resurrections.  Every night that folds us up in darkness is a death; and those of you that have been out early, and have seen the first of the dawn, will know it – the day rises out of the night like a being that has burst its tomb and escaped into life.

Indeed, Paul himself said that we can see something of the attributes of God in creation itself (Romans 1:19-20).  Surely each morning is evidence of that fact.  Every morning, the dark of night is beaten back the resurrected light of a new day. Every morning is a symbol of this morning.  Every morning whispers Easter joy.

For we followers of Christ who hold the resurrection of Jesus as the greatest truth in the world, we cannot help but view all of creation through the prism of the cross and empty tomb.  So we have gathered here this morning, in this time of resurrection, to remember that, “He has risen!  He has risen indeed!”

Our text this morning reveals the life-altering, reality-defining, faith-forming implications of Easter.  Let us consider these implications and how they speak to us today.

I.  Easter Redefines Our Assumptions Concerning the Possible (v.1-2)

The horrible spectacle of the crucified Jesus no doubt hung like a bleak shadow over the hearts and minds of the shell-shocked disciples.  There was so much for them to try to comprehend:  their abandonment of Jesus, what the cross meant about Jesus and all that He had taught them, what they were to do now, how they were to return to their lives?  How were they to begin putting their lives back together again, for instance?  How were they to understand all of this, accept all of this?  They came into this morning with their minds reeling from conflicting thoughts, feelings and sensations, and the results of the cataclysmic collision between their reeling minds and the blunt realities of the empty tomb would change them and the world forever.

Our passage begins, first, with one of the faithful women, Mary Magdalene, who we last saw standing at the cross, going early in the morning to the tomb.

1 Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb. 2 So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.”

Let us behold the natural mind of man, the natural assumptions of man, the inherent, germane categories of the human mind.  It makes perfect sense to think as Mary Magdalene thought when she saw the empty tomb.  Her reaction was perfectly reasonable:  “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.”

Reasonable.

Makes perfect sense.

I would have thought and said the exact same thing at that point.

It was a perfectly natural thing for Mary to assume.  But soon Mary will meet the resurrected Jesus, and then Mary will understand:  Easter redefines our assumptions concerning the possible.

Easter redefines “reasonable.”

Easter redefines “makes sense.”

Easter redefines “normal.”

Brothers and sisters in Christ, everything we thought we knew, everything we thought we understood, all of our inherent common sense, all of our pragmatic realism, everything we assumed we had nailed down about reality and how the world works…all of this has to be rethought in light of that empty tomb.  We now have to redefine what we thought we knew, scrutinize our own assumptions and reconsider all kinds of things we previously thought were impossible.

How do we do this?  We do this by giving ourselves to the resurrected Jesus who redefines reality.

We do not believe the improbable.  We believe what the world calls “impossible.”

We do not believe the unlikely.  We believe the, “That just doesn’t happen!”

No, Mary, nobody has taken Him.  You will have to begin thinking in a whole new way now.  Nothing is going to be the same!  The Lord Jesus is going to redefine your very assumptions about what is possible.

And He does the same with us.  Because of Easter, things we previously considered impossible are now possible.  The crucified Christ now lives.  And we, who were dead in our sins and trespasses, can now live through Him.

II.  Easter Makes Faith in Christ Possible (v.3-9)

The most basic and most important thing that Easter makes possible is faith in the risen Christ.  Mary Magdalene informs Peter and John that the body is missing.

3 So Peter went out with the other disciple, and they were going toward the tomb. 4 Both of them were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first.5 And stooping to look in, he saw the linen cloths lying there, but he did not go in. 6 Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen cloths lying there,7 and the face cloth, which had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen cloths but folded up in a place by itself. 8 Then the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; 9 for as yet they did not understand the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead.

The disciples investigate this most unlikely scene.  We are told specifically that John believed.  But notice the order of verse 8:  “and he saw and believed.”

He saw.  What did he see?  He saw the empty tomb, the linen cloths, the face cloth folded separately.  “He saw and believed.”  The resurrection of Jesus made faith possible, made belief a reality.  The resurrection makes faith in Jesus possible today as well.

Do you understand that our faith is bound up with raw, historical, tangible, physical evidence?  There were men and women who saw these things.  They were there.  They saw and believed.

I have no tolerance for those who say the resurrection does not matter, or that perhaps Jesus only rose “spiritually” while, in reality, His body rotted in the tomb.  The Word of God will not allow that kind of reduction.  I agree with John Updike who wrote:

Let us not mock God with metaphor,

analogy, sidestepping, transcendence;

making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the

faded credulity of earlier ages:

let us walk through the door.

Yes, let us walk through the door just as the disciples walked into this tomb.  Let us enter there.  Let us look.  Let us see. Let us touch.  Let us stand in this amazing moment in history, this raw, unexpected, utterly shocking turn of events.  Let us stand there with the Mary and John and Peter.  Let us see what they saw.  Let us see and let us believe!

I believe in Jesus because His body was not there.  I believe for the exact same reasons the early followers of Jesus believed:  because the body that was nailed to that cross was not held by that tomb.

Our faith is grounded in a moment, an event, a concrete reality.  That reality is the foundation for all of our spiritual convictions, all of our theological beliefs.  The events of Easter confirm the truth of all that Jesus ever said and all that He claimed to be.  Easter makes faith in Christ possible!

III.  Easter Compels Us to Go to Others (v.10)

What then?  What do they do?  How do they respond?  Verse 10 explains in understated simplicity:

10 Then the disciples went back to their homes.

What I want us to see first is what the disciples did not do.  They did not enshrine the empty tomb.  They did not stay there in religious ecstasy.  To be sure, their faith still had a ways to go to grow and solidify, perhaps especially Peter’s. But they had seen the empty tomb, and a radical new possibility opened up to their previously darkened minds.

They were not paralyzed there, slain in the Spirit, caught up in mystical euphoria.  They did not seek to guard the place, pray before the cloths or seek to establish the physical items as relics and sacred paraphernalia.

Instead, they “went back to their homes.”  Whatever they were thinking, whatever their theological grasp of the implications of this tomb (and, according to scripture, there were some) and however strong their faith was or was not at this point, they at least knew (1) that the world was somehow different now and (2) that they needed to carry the shocking truth of the empty truth to others.

They did not say, “Let us build a booth here and offer worship to the Lord,” as they had done on the Mount of Transfiguration.

They said, “Let us go home…to the others.”

Easter has feet.  It pulsates with energy and movement and power.  It lends itself most naturally to going.

And while Peter and John both, no doubt, had to grow even more in their understanding of what all of this meant, they at least knew this:  that this truth could not be held, contained, sat upon, merely internalized or enshrined for static observation.

Jesus was up!  Jesus was out!  Jesus was on the move!  Because of that, so were they!  Because of that, so are we!

We too are up and out and on the move, reaching our homes and our schools and our workplaces and our worlds with the same unbelievable news they carried with them:  the Jesus who was crucified is no longer in the tomb.  The Jesus who was crucified could not be held by the grave.

The Jesus who was crucified lives now and forevermore!

He is risen!  He is risen indeed!

John 19:16b-42

John 19:16b-42

 

16b So they took Jesus, 17 and he went out, bearing his own cross, to the place called The Place of a Skull, which in Aramaic is called Golgotha.18 There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, and Jesus between them. 19 Pilate also wrote an inscription and put it on the cross. It read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” 20 Many of the Jews read this inscription, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and it was written in Aramaic, in Latin, and in Greek. 21 So the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, “Do not write, ‘The King of the Jews,’ but rather, ‘This man said, I am King of the Jews.’” 22 Pilate answered, “What I have written I have written.” 23 When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his garments and divided them into four parts, one part for each soldier; also his tunic. But the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom, 24 so they said to one another, “Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it to see whose it shall be.” This was to fulfill the Scripture which says, “They divided my garments among them,
and for my clothing they cast lots.” So the soldiers did these things, 25 but standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. 26 When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” 27 Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home. 28 After this, Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said (to fulfill the Scripture), “I thirst.” 29 A jar full of sour wine stood there, so they put a sponge full of the sour wine on a hyssop branch and held it to his mouth. 30 When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, “It is finished,” and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. 31 Since it was the day of Preparation, and so that the bodies would not remain on the cross on the Sabbath (for that Sabbath was a high day), the Jews asked Pilate that their legs might be broken and that they might be taken away. 32 So the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first, and of the other who had been crucified with him. 33 But when they came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. 34 But one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water. 35 He who saw it has borne witness— his testimony is true, and he knows that he is telling the truth— that you also may believe. 36 For these things took place that the Scripture might be fulfilled: “Not one of his bones will be broken.”37 And again another Scripture says, “They will look on him whom they have pierced.” 38 After these things Joseph of Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews, asked Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus, and Pilate gave him permission. So he came and took away his body. 39 Nicodemus also, who earlier had come to Jesus by night, came bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about seventy-five pounds in weight.40 So they took the body of Jesus and bound it in linen cloths with the spices, as is the burial custom of the Jews. 41 Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid. 42 So because of the Jewish day of Preparation, since the tomb was close at hand, they laid Jesus there.

 

Today is known as Good Friday.  It is the day in which the church traditionally remembers the crucifixion of Jesus.  This evening, we will be concluding this service and departing after hearing the seven last words of the cross and observing the extinguishing of these seven candles which symbolize those seven last words.  By “seven last words” I mean the seven sayings that Jesus spoke from the cross.

Our text this evening includes three of those seven last words.  We will approach this text from the perspective of those three words.  We will do this because the words of Christ from the cross each reveal something of the great person and the great work of Christ.  They reveal, in other words, in ways powerful and poignant, who Jesus is and what He was doing on and through the cross.

I.  The Christ Who Cares:  “Woman, behold, your son!…Behold, your mother!” (v.16b-27)

Jesus is now taken to Calvary where the mockery and humiliation continue.

16b So they took Jesus, 17 and he went out, bearing his own cross, to the place called The Place of a Skull, which in Aramaic is called Golgotha. 18 There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, and Jesus between them. 19 Pilate also wrote an inscription and put it on the cross. It read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” 20 Many of the Jews read this inscription, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and it was written in Aramaic, in Latin, and in Greek. 21 So the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, “Do not write, ‘The King of the Jews,’ but rather, ‘This man said, I am King of the Jews.’” 22 Pilate answered, “What I have written I have written.”

This scene seethes with a kind of provocative mystery.  What is going on in Pilate’s mind?  Is he trying to work out his own frustration by intentionally goading the Jews with this sign?  Is he trying to communicate that, through his brief encounter with Jesus, he had come to believe that there was something truly unique about this man?  What is going on in Pilate’s mind?  We do not know, but Pilate lets the sign stand as he had it prepared:  “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.”

The soldiers who are overseeing this execution are less subtle in their actions.

23 When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his garments and divided them into four parts, one part for each soldier; also his tunic. But the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom, 24 so they said to one another, “Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it to see whose it shall be.” This was to fulfill the Scripture which says, “They divided my garments among them,
and for my clothing they cast lots.” So the soldiers did these things,

These soldiers are no doubt continuing the games they normally play during these macabre spectacles of execution.  Their indifference is shocking, but it cannot guard them from fulfilling earlier biblical prophecy that foretold their actions.  They are more concerned with their games than with this Jesus.

Jesus, however, is more concerned about others than Himself.

25 but standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. 26 When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!”27 Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.

Here is one of the most moving scenes in all of Scripture:  the crucified Son making provision for His grieving mother.  Mary, His mother, is accompanied by family and friends:  her sister Mary and Mary Magdalene are both mentioned by John.  They do not abandon Jesus as His disciples have.  They do not flee.  They are faithful, resolved, grieving but present.  Of course, one disciple remains:  John.

When the caring eyes of Jesus behold His mother, He is moved by love and compassion and makes arrangements for her care:  “Woman, behold, your son!”  And to John:  “Behold, your mother!”

How can our hearts not be overwhelmed at this display of love and concern and care?  We are touched, deeply, as no doubt Mary and the women and John were, by the selflessness of the Lord Jesus, by His almost incomprehensible concern in this moment of His great trial.  But we are touched by something even deeper.

Is this word not a reflection of Jesus’ love and concern for all of His people?  Does it not help to define the cross itself?  On the cross, Jesus thought of others.  On the cross, Jesus though of His mother’s well-being.  On the cross, Jesus thought of your well-being.  The self-giving Christ gives Himself on the cross for others.

See Him there, thinking of His mother.  See Him there, thinking of you!  See the Christ who cares.

II.  The Christ Who Suffers:  “I thirst.” (v.28-29)

The beauty of this care is amplified by the grueling nature of the physical ordeal Jesus endured on the cross.  We see this in the next word recorded in our text.

28 After this, Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said (to fulfill the Scripture), “I thirst.” 29 A jar full of sour wine stood there, so they put a sponge full of the sour wine on a hyssop branch and held it to his mouth.

“I thirst.”

This Jesus, fully God and fully man, suffered.  His body begins to react to the scourging, the crucifixion, the beating, the brutality.  This is more than a mere request for a drink.  It is an amazing reminder of the raw and real physicality of the incarnation itself.  He became a man!  He did not become a man of superhuman strength.  He became a man of simply human strengths and weaknesses…and men can thirst and hunger and hurt and bleed.

“I thirst.”

There is enormous pain wrapped up in that statement.  That word, “I thirst,” reminds us in ways subtle but powerful that Jesus paid a price in His body.  To be sure, the greatest pain of the cross was not physical.  The greatest pain was, no doubt, the spiritual agony of His becoming sin for us (2 Corinthians 5:21).  Even so, the physical pain was no small or insignificant part of the cross.

“I thirst.”

“I hurt.”

“I feel.”

“I have a body…and My body is breaking for you.”

Are we offended by the thirst of Christ, the pain of Christ, the hurt, the tears, the blood?  Do we romanticize the cross in an effort to avoid the raw, hellish, physicality of the event, the seering, stinging, flesh-and-blood reality of the event?

“The Word became flesh” (John 1:14).  Flesh thirsts.  Flesh hungers.  Flesh aches.  And, if you pierce it, flesh bleeds.

Our God is the God who came to bleed for us.  It is an astounding and offensive thought…and yet our very salvation is bound up in it in ways that it make it impossible to ignore.  Stanley Hauerwas once opened one of his classes at Duke Divinity School with this shocking prayer:

“Bloody Lord, you are just too real.  Blood is sticky, repulsive, frightening.  We do not want to be stuck with a sacrificial God who bleeds.  We want a spiritual faith about spiritual things, things bloodless and abstract.  We want sacrificial spirits, not sacrificed bodies.  But you have bloodied us with your people Israel and your Son, Jesus.  We fear that by being Jesus’ people we too might have to bleed.  If such is our destiny, we pray that your will, not ours, be done.  Amen.”[1]

Do not turn away from the thirsting Savior, the bleeding Savior, the wounded Savior.  Do not minimize the sweating Savior, the gasping Savior, the Savior who breathes out these last words in tormented pain.

Look upon the Christ who suffers:  “I thirst.”  Look and behold His love for you!

III.  The Christ Who Accomplishes:  “It is finished.” (v.30-42)

Do not forget, though, that there was a purpose for the suffering, a reason for the pain.  The cross was not an exercise in masochism, nor was it a mere physical trial.  It was not some feat of strength, nor was it a display of Jesus’ courage, though courage it revealed.  No, it had a grand purpose.  It sought to accomplish something.  The third word we find in our text confirms this truth.

30 When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, “It is finished,” and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

“It is finished,” Jesus says.  Then He dies.  He really dies.  He dies upon the cross.  But He dies only after He finishes “it.”

This act, this embrace of the cross, this suffering, this pain:  it had a purpose.  “It is finished.”

What was finished?  What was “it”?  First, note that John moves on to the final details of the cross and the events of the burial.

31 Since it was the day of Preparation, and so that the bodies would not remain on the cross on the Sabbath (for that Sabbath was a high day), the Jews asked Pilate that their legs might be broken and that they might be taken away. 32 So the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first, and of the other who had been crucified with him. 33 But when they came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead, they did not break his legs.34 But one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water. 35 He who saw it has borne witness— his testimony is true, and he knows that he is telling the truth— that you also may believe. 36 For these things took place that the Scripture might be fulfilled: “Not one of his bones will be broken.” 37 And again another Scripture says, “They will look on him whom they have pierced.” 38 After these things Joseph of Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews, asked Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus, and Pilate gave him permission. So he came and took away his body. 39 Nicodemus also, who earlier had come to Jesus by night, came bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about seventy-five pounds in weight. 40 So they took the body of Jesus and bound it in linen cloths with the spices, as is the burial custom of the Jews. 41 Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid.42 So because of the Jewish day of Preparation, since the tomb was close at hand, they laid Jesus there.

Even in the details of His removal from the cross and His burial, scripture is fulfilled.  There is a definite finality about this scene.  He is taken from the cross.  The body is given to Joseph of Arimathea. Nicodemus is present as well.  So are the women.  So is John.  And He is buried.

When they heard Jesus say, “It is finished,” did they take Him to mean simply, “I am dying now”?  Did they think the “it” was His life?  “It, My life, is finished.  Now, I die.”  Is this what they thought?

They could be excused in thinking so.  After all, Jesus’ death on the cross was confirmed and sealed with the spear thrust.  He was dead.  He was really dead.  Did they, like the hiding disciples who feared to draw near the cross, think that this was what Jesus meant by, “It is finished”?

They would have been excused had they done so.  After all, what would you have though if you had seen the scourging, the crucifixion, the slowly agony of death and then His lifeless body?  In Dostoevsky’s novel, The Idiot, Prince Myshkin stops before a painting of the crucified Christ and contemplates its image.

In the picture the face is fearfully crushed by blows, swollen, covered with fearful, swollen and blood-stained bruises, the eyes are open and squinting:  the great wide-open whites of the eyes glitter with a sort of deathly, glassy light.  But, strange to say, as one looks at this corpse of a tortured man, a peculiar and curious question arises; if just such a corpse (and it must have been just like that) was seen by all His disciples, by those who were to become His chief apostles, by the women that followed Him and stood by the cross, by all who believed in Him and worshipped Him, how could they believe that that martyr would rise again?

And later:

The people surrounding the dead man, not one of whom is shown in the picture, must have experienced the most terrible anguish and consternation on that evening, which had crushed all their hopes, and almost their convictions.[2]

Yes, this scene had crushed their hopes, but only “almost their convictions.”  After all, there must have been something about the way Jesus said, “It is finished.”  I suspect the words sat uneasily on their minds.  I suspect that while their minds thought, “It is finished,” meant, “I am dying now,” something in their souls knew that, “It is finished,” must meant something more.

After all, had Jesus not made numerous strange statements about fulfilling the will of His Father?  Had Jesus not offered odd and tantalizing images about “the sign of Jonah” (Matthew 12:40) or rebuilding the temple after three days (John 2:19)?

While they would not know definitively know until Easter morning what we all know now, did they dare even then to suspect that, “It is finished,” could actually be referring not to the finishing of Jesus’ life, but rather to the finishing of the old ways of the fallen world, the finishing of an old and fallen Kingdom which was giving way now, through this crucified Jesus, to a greater Kingdom of God?  Perhaps they could not have expressed it in that way, until the world-altering events of Easter morning happened, but I cannot help but think that there stirred something in, say, the heart of Mary or the heart of John that held onto that, “It is finished.”

“It is finished.”

What is finished?

Ah, the events of Easter will tell us in no uncertain terms!

The work of Christ on the cross is finished.

Death is finished.

Satan is finished.

Hell is finished.

The earthly powers are finished.

The old life we used to live is finished.

“It is finished.”

Christ has done it.  His work on the cross heralds the beginning of the end of so many things that need to pass away…and the revelation of the Kingdom of God into which we are not invited and able to come.

“It is finished.”

We need live in the prison of ourselves no more.  We need die in our sins no more.  We need be cast into hell no more.  We need live in enmity with one another no more.  We need despair no more.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, Christ finished paying for your sins on the cross.  Christ finished His great trial on the cross.  Christ was faithful to complete the task to which He was called.  He finished it.  He accomplished it.

Next, He will rise.  Next, He will walk out of the tomb.  Next, He will put the great exclamation point on the saving work He came to conduct.

Praise God for the caring, hurting, accomplishing work of Christ on the cross!  Praise God for the lamb that was slain!

Hallelujah!

 

  



[1] Stanley Hauerwas, Prayers Plainly Spoken. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1999), p.90.

[2] Fyodor Dostoevsky.  The Idiot.  (New York:  Everyman’s Library), p. 388-389.

John 19:1-16

John 19:1-16

 

1 Then Pilate took Jesus and flogged him. 2 And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head and arrayed him in a purple robe.3 They came up to him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” and struck him with their hands. 4 Pilate went out again and said to them, “See, I am bringing him out to you that you may know that I find no guilt in him.” 5 So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, “Behold the man!” 6 When the chief priests and the officers saw him, they cried out, “Crucify him, crucify him!” Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and crucify him, for I find no guilt in him.” The Jews answered him, “We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he has made himself the Son of God.” 8 When Pilate heard this statement, he was even more afraid. 9 He entered his headquarters again and said to Jesus, “Where are you from?” But Jesus gave him no answer. 10 So Pilate said to him, “You will not speak to me? Do you not know that I have authority to release you and authority to crucify you?” 11 Jesus answered him, “You would have no authority over me at all unless it had been given you from above. Therefore he who delivered me over to you has the greater sin.” 12 From then on Pilate sought to release him, but the Jews cried out, “If you release this man, you are not Caesar’s friend. Everyone who makes himself a king opposes Caesar.” 13 So when Pilate heard these words, he brought Jesus out and sat down on the judgment seat at a place called The Stone Pavement, and in Aramaic Gabbatha. 14 Now it was the day of Preparation of the Passover. It was about the sixth hour. He said to the Jews, “Behold your King!” 15 They cried out, “Away with him, away with him, crucify him!” Pilate said to them, “Shall I crucify your King?” The chief priests answered, “We have no king but Caesar.” 16 So he delivered him over to them to be crucified.

 

 

Today is the day traditionally known as “Maundy Thursday.”  The word “Maundy” comes from John 13:34, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.”  The Latin translation of the first words of that verse are “Mandatum novum…”  (“A new commandment…”)

It is an ancient day of remembrance.  It is at least as old as the year 393 AD when it is mentioned by the Council of Hippo.[1]  It is almost certainly older than even that.  Of course, Maundy Thursday is rooted in the New Testament, in the upper room in which Jesus calls upon His disciples to take bread and wine as the signs of His broken body and shed blood and to do these things “in remembrance” of the Lord Jesus.

Tonight we come together and remember.  We come to remember Jesus.  We come to remember His work on the cross.  We come to remember His pain and His sacrifice.

Our text this evening involves the moments immediately preceding the cross.  Jesus has been delivered into the hands of the state by the angry mob.  They are demanding His death by crucifixion.  The Roman governor, Pilate, is attempting to pull off the impossible feat of (1) placating the bloodthirsty mob, (2) maintaining order in the region, (3) not dropping the ball before his superiors in Rome and (4) trying to get Jesus off of his hands without being guilty of the execution of Jesus.

The result is that Pilate serves Jesus up to the demands of the murderous crowd.  He makes some final but feeble last attempts to remove guilt from his own hands, but, despite his best efforts, he plays his part in the crucifixion of Jesus.

I would like to call us this evening to consider this passage and to remember.  As we prepare for the Lord’s Supper, let us come together and remember many things.

I. As we come to the table, let us remember the physical pain that Jesus underwent. (v.1-3)

Pilate has Jesus scourged and physically humiliated by the soldiers.

1 Then Pilate took Jesus and flogged him. 2 And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head and arrayed him in a purple robe. 3 They came up to him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” and struck him with their hands.

Jesus is whipped.

Jesus’ brow is punctured by the cruel thorns of a mocking crown.

Jesus’ bloodied back is draped in a taunting purple robe.

Jesus is verbally mocked:  “Hail, King of the Jews!”

Jesus is pummeled by the fists of the surrounding soldiers.

Let us remember the physical pain of Jesus.

The elements on this table hurt.  It hurt for the body to be broken.  It hurt for the blood to be spilt.

The pain preceded the cross.  The physical ordeal on the way to the cross was so daunting that the ancient Roman Seneca argued that it would be better for a man to commit suicide than to undergo the hellishly prolonged agony of the scourging and then the cross.  Seneca wrote:

Can anyone be found who would prefer wasting away in pain dying limb by limb, or letting out his life drop by drop, rather than expiring once for all?  Can any man be found willing to be fastened to the accursed tree, long sickly, already deformed, swelling with ugly weals on shoulders and chest, and drawing the breath of life amid long-drawn-out agony?  He would have many excuses for dying even before mounting the cross.[2]

Seneca asks if anyone would willingly take the prolonged physical ordeal of the cross as opposed to the immediate death offered by suicide.  We answer, “Yes, Seneca.  There was one who willingly took the prolonged pain.  There was one who did not take the quick way out.  His name was Jesus and He took the pain.

Tonight, as you come, remember the pain.

II.  As we come to the table, let us remember that Jesus was rejected by His own people. (v.4-6)

The Lord Jesus was not kidnapped by outsiders.  Rather, He was rejected by His own people.

4 Pilate went out again and said to them, “See, I am bringing him out to you that you may know that I find no guilt in him.” 5 So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, “Behold the man!” 6 When the chief priests and the officers saw him, they cried out, “Crucify him, crucify him!” Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and crucify him, for I find no guilt in him.”

Pilate presents the beaten and bloodied Christ to the crowd.  But it is not just any crowd.  It is a crowd of His own people, the people to whom He was sent.  And they cry, “Crucify him!  Crucify him!  Crucify him!”

History tells us that when Julius Caesar was assassinated by Senate, he was shocked to find his friend Brutus among the crowd.  “Et tu, Brute?!” he said.  “And you, Brutus?”

It is a shocking thing to be killed by your own people.  Jesus’ death was instigated by a crowd of His own people.

Hear that, church, and be warned:  sometimes those closest to the truth not only have the hardest time seeing the truth but also are some of the first ones to come to hate the truth.

As you come, remember that Jesus was rejected and handed over by His own people.

And remember that many of us claim to be His people.

III.  As we come to the table, let us remember that Jesus was killed for who He was. (v.7)

Remember, too, that it was not merely something that Jesus did that raised the ire of the crowd.  It was who He was.

The Jews answered him, “We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he has made himself the Son of God.”

They pin their hopes for the death of Jesus primarily on the threat of His person.  It was who He claimed to be that was the great offense.  Of course, what He did was also offensive to the Jews, but what He did simply flowed out of who He is.

They not only hated Jesus’ works, they hated Jesus Himself.

All rejection of Christ is a rejection of who He really is.  The world hates the notion that God would step into creation and that He would step into creation in this way, the person of a humble Jew.

Christ Jesus was an offense to the Jews.

Christ Jesus is an offense to the world today.

Perhaps you are offended by Him as well:  by His claim of divinity, by His teachings on the Kingdom, by the doorway of the cross, by His call for us to take the cross too, by His dignity and strength, His humility and resolve, His courage and His truth.

This table answers the question, “What is God like?”  God is like this:  Jesus suffering so that a people may be purchased, Jesus taking the blows so that humanity might be saved, Jesus being pummeled by the mob so that we might be set free.

Does this offend you, the person of Jesus?  This is who He is.

IV.  As we come to the table, let us remember that Jesus accepted the cross. (v.8-11)

Note, too, the silent resolve of Jesus.  Pilate, shocked by this claim of deity, suddenly begins to understand that this is no mere, local, political squabble.  Apparently this man has claimed not to be “a king” but “The King”!  Pilate comes to him in frightened panic:

8 When Pilate heard this statement, he was even more afraid. 9 He entered his headquarters again and said to Jesus, “Where are you from?” But Jesus gave him no answer. 10 So Pilate said to him, “You will not speak to me? Do you not know that I have authority to release you and authority to crucify you?” 11 Jesus answered him, “You would have no authority over me at all unless it had been given you from above. Therefore he who delivered me over to you has the greater sin.”

Jesus does not bargain.

Jesus does not beg.

Jesus does not avoid.

Jesus does not deny.

In silence, He accepts the full and devastating implications of His deity.  This Pilate cannot understand where Jesus is from, but Jesus knows.  He knows where He is from and He knows He is hated for it.  He knows He is suffering for it.  He knows he will suffer for it even more.

He knows…and He accepts it.

Silently.

With quiet dignity.

Jesus accepts the will of God, even to the point of the cross.

As you come, consider the silent strength of Jesus Christ.

How loud are you when obeying God will cost you something?  Do you accept the will of God, even when His will is painful?

Consider the silent acceptance of Jesus.

V.  As we come to the table, let us remember that Jesus was crucified on the altar of political capital. (v.12-14)

Pilate is befuddled, but Pilate needs a way out.  The crowd knows what kind of man he is, and they appeal to his base sense of political capital.

12 From then on Pilate sought to release him, but the Jews cried out, “If you release this man, you are not Caesar’s friend. Everyone who makes himself a king opposes Caesar.”13 So when Pilate heard these words, he brought Jesus out and sat down on the judgment seat at a place called The Stone Pavement, and in Aramaic Gabbatha. 14 Now it was the day of Preparation of the Passover. It was about the sixth hour. He said to the Jews, “Behold your King!”

Ah!  How very crafty the crowd is!

“Pilate,” they say, “this man makes Himself out to be more than Caesar himself.  How can you aid a man who thinks He is greater than Caesar?  Is it not seditious, treasonous to assist a rival power?  If you release this man, you are not Caesar’s friend.”

Pilate was a man of the world.  He knew the rules.  You do not bite the hand that feeds you.  You do not anger Caesar.  So Pilate is now reduced to a criminal act of cowardice:  He presents Jesus to the Jews and says what he knows will whip them into a foam of fury:  “Behold your King!”

Pilate has now made his decision.  He has no personal beef with Jesus.  Perhaps he even finds him mysterious and intriguing.  But is he willing to lose what little political capital he has to defend this odd man?  Indeed, he is not.

May we remember as we come that Jesus was sacrificed on the altar of political capital.  May we behold the rank and shameful reasons why Jesus was killed by cowardly men.

VI.  As we come to the table, let us remember that Jesus presents us all with only two choices. (v.15-16)

Pilate says, “Behold your King!”  The reaction is utterly predictable.

15 They cried out, “Away with him, away with him, crucify him!” Pilate said to them, “Shall I crucify your King?” The chief priests answered, “We have no king but Caesar.”16 So he delivered him over to them to be crucified.

At last, the clear reality of the situation emerges from the dense fog crowd manipulation, political expediency, tight-rope walking and legal maneuvering.  At the end of the day, it is a simple choice:  Jesus or Caesar.  Who will be King?

Jesus or Caesar?  God or mammon?  The Kingdom of God or the kingdoms of the world?  Obedience or power?  The will of God or the will of man?  The cross or the palace?  Calvary or Rome?

In all of human history, there are always and only two choices.  You will either stand with Jesus and His cross or you will stand with Caesar and throne.  The one lasts forever.  The other is in a constant state of corruption.  The one seems unpopular but in it there is life.  The other seems to make purpose sense, but the way of Caesar is death.

As you come tonight, consider the stark choice with which we are presented tonight.

Jesus or Caesar.

God or the world.

The cross or comfort.

Life or death.

If you have chosen life in Christ, you are invited to come to the table.

If you have chosen life with Caesar, I plead with you to repent and be saved right now, this very moment!  Then, you too may come and eat and drink and remember what your Savior has done for you.

 

 


[1] F.L. Cross and E.A. Livingstone, eds.  The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church. (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2005), p.1065.

[2] David Noel Freeman, ed., The Anchor Bible Dictionary. Vol.1 A-C. (New York, NY: Doubleday, 1992), p.1209.

John 18:28-40

John 18:28-40

 

28 Then they led Jesus from the house of Caiaphas to the governor’s headquarters. It was early morning. They themselves did not enter the governor’s headquarters, so that they would not be defiled, but could eat the Passover. 29 So Pilate went outside to them and said, “What accusation do you bring against this man?” 30 They answered him, “If this man were not doing evil, we would not have delivered him over to you.” 31 Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and judge him by your own law.” The Jews said to him, “It is not lawful for us to put anyone to death.” 32 This was to fulfill the word that Jesus had spoken to show by what kind of death he was going to die. 33 So Pilate entered his headquarters again and called Jesus and said to him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” 34 Jesus answered, “Do you say this of your own accord, or did others say it to you about me?” 35 Pilate answered, “Am I a Jew? Your own nation and the chief priests have delivered you over to me. What have you done?” 36 Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.” 37 Then Pilate said to him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world— to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice.” 38 Pilate said to him, “What is truth?”After he had said this, he went back outside to the Jews and told them, “I find no guilt in him. 39 But you have a custom that I should release one man for you at the Passover. So do you want me to release to you the King of the Jews?” 40 They cried out again, “Not this man, but Barabbas!” Now Barabbas was a robber.

 

Have you ever looked right at somebody and not seen them?  Do you know what I mean?

I once had somebody come to me and tell me that I had caused another person great offense.  (By the way, this did not happen here.  It happened in another state.)  They went on to say that a lady had shared with her that she had seen me in town and I had refused to acknowledge her.  To make matters even worse, the name of the lady who was offended was on the church roll.  She did not attend, and I had never met her, but, technically, she was a church member.

Well, this concerned me for obvious reasons.  I have a great many faults, but, as a rule, ignoring people in public is not one of them.  So I resolved to make it right and apologize to this lady.  I went by her business but she was not there, so I left a card.  A short time after that, I learned that her husband was in the hospital so I thought, “Well, I will just go and see him and apologize.”

When I walked into the hospital room she was standing by the bed of her husband.  Let me just say that the reception was, at best, chilly!  I introduced myself (again, I had never met her), inquired about her husband and then told her that I understood I had offended her and I wanted to apologize.

Her reaction really caught me off guard.  She was ready to talk!  She said that I had indeed offended her, that she had passed me in a parking lot, had looked right at me and smiled and that I had looked at her, frowned and walked away.  Well, that did not sound like something I would do, but she was adamant.  I told her that I had no recollection of it happening, that I would never do so on purpose and that all I could imagine was that I was lost in thought and did not see her.  She assured me that, yes, I most definitely had seen her, had looked right at her, had turned up my nose at her and walked on.

Have you ever gone to apologize to somebody and it does not go well?  Have you ever started out apologizing and then ended up almost undoing your apology?

I asked her if she had spoken to me and she responded that she had not but that she had smiled at me. Then she revealed that she had gone into the store, had encountered my wife and that my wife had offended her by doing the exact same thing!  Well!  My wife has much less faults than I do, and I can assure you that shunning people is not one of them.

I told the lady that surely she was mistaken and that my wife was not the type of person to be rude to anybody.  She was adamant.  She insisted that she saw Mrs. Richardson in the store, that she made eye contact, that she smiled at Mrs. Richardson and that Mrs. Richardson met her smile with a rude frown and then turned her back on her and walked off.

My temperature was rising.  I asked her if she had spoken to or said anything to my wife.  She again said that she had not but that Mrs. Richardson most surely saw her and frowned at her.  I assured her that neither Mrs. Richardson nor myself were the type of people to do such a thing and that, if such a thing happened, it must have been that we did not really see her or that we were lost in thought and somehow missed her smiling face.

THEN she said:  “I could not believe it!  You were so rude to me, and then your wife was!  And here I ama member of the church!

I was praying for grace, but this was too much:  “That’s odd,” I said, “I have never seen you in church.”

“I do not attend,” she said, “but I do send in my money.”

“Well,” I responded, “perhaps if I had seen you sitting in a pew at least once over the last many years I would have recognized you.  Even so, I think you are mistaken about what had happened.  If I looked at you but did not acknowledge you, it must have been because my mind was elsewhere, or I was hurrying, or something caused me to look at you but not see you.”

She asked, “How can you look at somebody but not see them?  You looked right at me!”

Church, it was one of the most frustrating conversations I ever had, and I regret to tell you that I entered the room with only her irritated but I left it with both of us irritated.

It is a reasonable question:  “How can you look at somebody but not see them?”  But if you think about it, this happens all the time.  You have probably experienced the exact same thing.  It is possible to be out and about, to look right at somebody, but not really see him at all.

Sometimes we do that to others, sometimes others do that to us.  It happens.  Sometimes you can look right at somebody but not see him.

Sometimes you can look right at somebody but not see him.

Would you like to know who experienced this?  Jesus.  It happened all the time to Jesus.  People looked right at Him.  Many people sat and listened to Him speak.  Some people even followed Jesus.  Some people met him just once.  Regardless, this “looking but not seeing” dynamic happened all the time with Jesus.

Some of His own disciples looked at Jesus but did not see Him.  All of the disciples struggled here and there to see Him.  It is doubtful that Judas ever really saw Jesus at all.

And the Jews who condemned Him.  They looked at Him.  They looked closely at Him.  They scrutinized Him.  They looked right in His face.  But they looked at Him without seeing Him.

And Pontius Pilate.  He looked at Jesus.  He only met Him once, but He looked at Him.  He looked at Jesus but He did not see Jesus.

Why?  Why were so many people able to look at Jesus without seeing Jesus?  What were they blinded by?  What clouded their vision?  To be sure, many things caused them to look without seeing, and that is what I would like us to consider tonight on this Wednesday of Holy Week.

I. The Jews Could Not See Jesus Because They Were Blinded By Religion (v.28-32)

Jesus has been betrayed.  Jesus has been arrested.  Jesus has been denied.  Jesus has been interrogated by Annas.  Jesus has been struck.  And now Jesus is being delivered to the representative of Rome, Pontius Pilate.  These are scenes of large personalities and large crimes, but here, in the middle of the story, we find a telling detail about the blindness of those Jews who delivered Jesus to Pilate.

28 Then they led Jesus from the house of Caiaphas to the governor’s headquarters. It was early morning. They themselves did not enter the governor’s headquarters, so that they would not be defiled, but could eat the Passover. 29 So Pilate went outside to them and said, “What accusation do you bring against this man?” 30 They answered him, “If this man were not doing evil, we would not have delivered him over to you.” 31 Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and judge him by your own law.” The Jews said to him, “It is not lawful for us to put anyone to death.” 32 This was to fulfill the word that Jesus had spoken to show by what kind of death he was going to die.

How very interesting!  Just as Peter stopped at the gate before his entry into the High Priest’s courtyard, so too the Jews do not enter Pilate’s headquarters.  They deliver Jesus to Pilate, but they do not go in. Pilate must come out to them.  Why?  The text tells us:

28 Then they led Jesus from the house of Caiaphas to the governor’s headquarters. It was early morning. They themselves did not enter the governor’s headquarters, so that they would not be defiled, but could eat the Passover.

Unbelievable!  Almost incomprehensible!

The Jews do not enter Pilate’s headquarters because they thought they would have been defiled by entering a pagan, Gentile place.  It being the Sabbath, this was especially undesirable for them as it would have meant that they could not eat the Passover meal.

In other words, they delivered Jesus to Pilate, but refused to enter his residence so that…wait for it…they could remain religiously pure.  Talk about swallowing a camel but straining at a gnat!  They are concerned about maintaining their ritual, religious purity at the exact time that they are perpetrating the most heinous crime the world has ever seen!

These Jews could not see Jesus for who He was because they were blinded by their religion.  In the name of their religion, they handed Jesus over to be killed.  In the name of their religion, they were blinded to their great defilement while thinking that they were avoiding defilement!

Let us make no mistake:  the religious people were the ones who turned Jesus over to be hostile hands. The religious people loved their theories more than they loved God.  The religious people were the most blind to the truth of who God was.

In the name of religion, they missed God.  In the name of “purity” they became impure.  In an effort to avoid defilement, they are ten times defiled.

Please do not miss Jesus because of your religion.  Please do not think that keeping the customs means that you are being obedient to God.  Please do not let the self-righteousness of your adherence to the smaller laws blind you to your great shame in violating the bigger laws.

How about you?  Is this you? Ask yourself this:  “Do I really love Jesus…or do I love my own devotion? Do I really know Jesus…or do I just know the rules?  Do I really walk with Jesus…or do I walk in the ways of the religious establishment?”

They were blinded by their religion.  Their religion meant more to them than their God.

II. Pilate Could Not See Because His Mind was Trapped in the World (v.33-37a)

Those who delivered Jesus over were blinded to who He really was.  So was the one to whom they delivered Jesus.  Listen to this conversation:

33 So Pilate entered his headquarters again and called Jesus and said to him, “Are you the King of the Jews?”

Pilate begins his interrogation of Jesus by seizing hold of an idea that he understands:  kingship.  “Are you the King of the Jews,” he asks Jesus.

This makes perfect sense, of course.  Most people approach Jesus from the vantage point they happen to posses at the moment in which they encounter him.  We all do.  Pilate is a man of politics and he approaches Jesus like a politician.  There is no evidence that Pilate understood theology.  There is even less evidence that he understood philosophy.  But politics?  That he could do.

He knew what a king was.  A king was a person of power who possessed a kingdom and had authority over his subjects.  There can be no doubt whatsoever that this is the understanding of the term that Pilate poured into his question, “Are you the King of the Jews?”

Immediately, we sense a tension and a disconnect between Jesus and Pilate.

34 Jesus answered, “Do you say this of your own accord, or did others say it to you about me?” 35 Pilate answered, “Am I a Jew? Your own nation and the chief priests have delivered you over to me. What have you done?” 36 Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.”37 Then Pilate said to him, “So you are a king?”

This is not only a disconnect between Jesus and Pilate, it is a disconnect between two totally different views of reality itself.  Jesus knew the truth.  Pilate merely knew the world, and his mind was trapped in it.

That is why this conversation bears the frustrating marks of two people talking past each other.  It is because Pilate was using the term “king” in the only way he knew, but Jesus was speaking of it on a totally different level.

34 Jesus answered, “Do you say this of your own accord, or did others say it to you about me?” 35 Pilate answered, “Am I a Jew? Your own nation and the chief priests have delivered you over to me. What have you done?”

Ah, we see the defining marks of a secular man.  Jesus wants to know where Pilate got this idea.  “Am I a Jew? Your own nation and the chief priests have delivered you over to me.”  Pilate is thinking in the world’s terms.  All he knows is a world of territorial rulers and powers and kings…even if that territory was as wide as the Roman Empire.

So Pilate enforces the boundaries:  “You are a Jew.  I am a Roman.”  That is the upshot of his comments.  In exasperation, he seems to want to point out the obvious:  “I am not a part of your small Jewish world.  I am a foreign ruler here.  Your world is not my own.  This is a local matter.  I am just having to deal with it.”

Pilate was seeking to minimize the potential threat of that about which Jesus was speaking.  A local, upstart “king”?  That, Pilate could handle.

Of course, this was not the kind of King Jesus was.  Jesus explains:

36 Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.”

Jesus does not intend to grant Pilate’s premise, to concede to the assumption that Pilate has any idea what a “King” really is.  His answer is not merely a rebuke, it is an illumination of the difference between the way the two are thinking about reality.

Jesus is not a localized King.  He is not merely, “The King of the Jews.”  Jesus does not have a corner in which He must sit.

On the contrary, the One who stood before Pilate, the One Pilate addressed, the One Pilate dared to question and the One on whom Pilate was seeking to hoist his failed and limited little political conceits was none other than the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Pilate understood the territorial kings of the world, but he did not understand the idea of one King over all creation.  Pilate understood national identity:  Jews there, Romans here.  He did not understand that all of humanity really only had one King.  Pilate understood the power to control, but he did not understand that there was a power over all the powers.

Pilate’s mind was trapped in the world.  He was a secular man.  Jesus and Pilate pass like ships in the night because Pilate could not and would not think beyond the categories that had been defined for him by the world.

Sometimes I think Pilate’s great tragedy was a lack of imagination.  He could not imagine that this man was not only a king but the King!  He could not imagine that reality transcended the petty politics in which he was enmeshed.  He could not think beyond his view of reality and that view had been shaped by the world.

What has defined your thinking about God?  The world?  God Himself?

Jesus came to reveal the reality of a King and  Kingdom that is beyond the surface politics of the world. As such, many will not open their hearts to His radical, new vision of reality.  Pilate could not and neither do many people today.

III. Pilate Could Not See Jesus Because He Was Blinded By Intellectual Despair (v.37b-38a)

And yet, it was not merely worldly thinking that blinded Pilate.  There is a kind of despair in his words as well.

37b Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world— to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice.” 38a Pilate said to him, “What is truth?”

To bridge the gap between their conflicting visions of reality, Jesus tells Pilate that he is speaking the truth to Pilate.  Pilate responds with the famous question, “Quod est veritas?  What is truth?”

Now we begin to understand why Pilate’s mind is enslaved by surface, worldly thinking.  In truth, what he sees constitutes the sum total of his vision of reality.  He does not believe there is a truth beyond what he can see, what he knows, the little world he inhabits.  This is because he wonders if truth even exists at all!

“What is truth?”  That is the question our world is asking today.  There is a despair that has gripped the world today.  Is the despair of ever discovering, much less knowing, truth.  David Samuels wrote this in the New York Times Magazine:

“It is a shared if unspoken premise of the world that most of us inhabit that absolutes do not exist and that people who claim to have them are crazy.”[1]

The world hates the idea of absolute truth…except, of course, the world’s own creed that “there is no absolute truth.”

Truth is scary.  Truth imposes boundaries upon us.  Truth gives us parameters.  This is because if there is a “true” there is also a “false.”  If there is a “right” there is a “wrong.”

Mankind builds its own idol of reality on the altar where it has just killed truth.  If there is no truth, I am free to make my own truth.  When I make my own truth in the absence of the truth, then I am free to begin saying really crazy things like, “What may be true for you may not be true for me.”

But that does not work at all if truth exists, if the truth is a reality.

Jesus is truth.  Pilate is a walking doubt.  It is no wonder this meeting did not go well.

Jesus offered Pilate the truth.  Pilate was blinded by intellectual despair.

IV. Pilate Could Not See Jesus Because He Was Blinded by Personal Advancement (v.38b-40)

Unfortunately, Pilate’s main dilemma was not romantically philosophical or intellectually strident.  His main dilemma involved rank careerism and opportunism.  In truth, Pilate could not see Jesus because he was blinded by personal advancement.

To understand how Pilate’s behavior reflects a desire for personal advancement, you need to understand the tenuous nature of his position as governor of Judea.  He served in that post from AD 26 until AD 37. It was a difficult post and Pilate had done a number of things to exasperate the Jews over whom he had rule.  He had also exasperated his superiors in Rome.  R.C. Sproul explains:

When he came to Jerusalem, he brought the Roman standards with the image of the emperor into the city, which incensed the Jews.  To see the image of the emperor set up in the Holy City was outrageous to the populace of Jerusalem, and Josephus tells us that they responded by coming into the city and staging a literal sit-down strike.  They surrounded the house of Pilate, then sat down in the street and refused to move for five days.  Finally, Pilate called in his troops and warned the Jews that if they did not leave, the soldiers would cut off their heads.  The Jews then laid back and stretched out their necks, awaiting execution.  Pilate finally backed down and removed the standards from the city.

Later, Pilate tried again.  He brought the votive shields of the emperor into the Holy Place, which was another sacrilege in the sight of the Jews, and once again the people gathered in protest.  The four sons of Herod sent a protest to the emperor, and the emperor commanded Pilate to respect the Jews’ religious freedom and to remove the shields from the Holy Place.  Once again, Pilate was frustrated by the insurgent Jews.

Pilate again stirred protests when he took the sacred treasure from the Jewish temple to build an aqueduct in the province.  This sparked another protest by the Jews. This time, Pilate sent his soldiers into the crowd, and they clubbed people to death.  That created even more trouble for Pilate.

One other incident bears mentioning.  A Roman governor had the privilege of striking coins with any image he so desired.  Pilate made copper coins bearing images of pagan religion.  That was another outrage in the eyes of the Jews.[2]

You can see, then, the precarious position in which Pilate found himself.  His career and any hope of personal advancement he had could not survive the twin trials of (a) revolt from below and (b) displeasure from above.  He is caught between the mob and Rome.  Whatever his personal feelings about Jesus might have been, he needed a way to save face and to save his neck.  So he worked a loophole.

38b  After he had said this, he went back outside to the Jews and told them, “I find no guilt in him. 39 But you have a custom that I should release one man for you at the Passover. So do you want me to release to you the King of the Jews?” 40 They cried out again, “Not this man, but Barabbas!” Now Barabbas was a robber.

He avoided condemning Jesus directly (“I find no guilt in him.”) and, instead, shifted the burden to the crowd.  He let them choose who they wanted free:  Jesus or Barabbas.

Do you see how cowardly this is, this evasion of having to make a choice in favor of personal advancement?  Pilate was trying to climb the ladder…or, more accurately, he was trying to avoid being thrown off the ladder.  He did not need a controversy.  He did not need the disruption.  He did not need the personal price he would have to pay if he stood by Jesus.

It is amazing how disruptive Jesus can be to a person’s family, a person’s career, a person’s sense of comfort, a person’s hopes for advancement.  It costs to follow Jesus.  Sometimes it costs you a job. Sometimes it costs you a relationship.  Sometimes it costs you that next promotion.

Of course, the great paradox of the gospel is that what we give up to follow Jesus does not compare to what we gain, but in the painful throes of the decision lots of people choose to sell their souls for a step up.

Pilate tried not to make a decision.  But, of course, that is itself a decision.

Make no mistake:  when confronted with Jesus, you will make a decision.  The decision to make no decision is still a decision.  The decision to make no decision is, in truth, a rejection.  To say nothing is to say “no.”

Pilate rejected Jesus by trying not to accept or reject Jesus.  His neutrality was itself a loud and clear, “No!”

It is amazing how many people are so blinded by their hopes of personal advancement that they delude themselves into thinking they can avoid the decision altogether.  “I will not accept Jesus,” they say. “Neither will I reject him.”

Is that you today?  Do you stand with Pilate?  Seeking to say neither “yes” nor “no” to Jesus?

It is odd but true that the Jews clamoring for His death were showing more honesty and integrity than Pilate who was seeking to save his own hide with a loophole.  It is more honest to reject Jesus than to try to avoid Jesus when He’s standing in front of your very face.

May I say this to all of you who are gathered here today:  you have looked at Jesus, but have you seen Him?  Have you really seen Him?

If you have seen Him, what have you done?  Rejected him like the angry mob?  Avoided him like spineless Pilate?  Or accepted Him, trusted in Him, believed on Him and His great work?

Paul wrote in Romans 10 these words:

8 But what does it say? “The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart” (that is, the word of faith that we proclaim); 9 because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.10 For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved. 11 For the Scripture says, “Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame.” 12 For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; for the same Lord is Lord of all, bestowing his riches on all who call on him. 13 For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

Call on Him today.  Do not miss Him from merely looking at Him.  Do not be blinded by the world, by your mind, by your doubts or by your own safety.  Call on Him today, and He will give you life.

 

 

 



[1] Richard John Neuhaus, “While We’re At It,” First Things.  August/September 1999.

[2] R.C. Sproul, John. St. Andrew’s Expositional Commentary (Orlando, FL: Reformation Trust Publishing, 2009), p.348-349.