What do the following three phrases all have in common:

·        the spitting image

·        a chip off the old block

·        the apple does not fall far from the tree

I would wager you have heard all three of these phrases and may have used them as well. They all have interesting histories, by the way.

“The spitting image” appears to have originated with the idea of somebody being so similar to somebody else that it is as if the one was spit out of the mouth of the other. George Farquhar used it in this way in 1689 when he wrote in his play Love and a bottle, “Poor child! he’s as like his own dadda as if he were spit out of his mouth.” In the 1820’s, Andrew Knapp and W. Baldwin’s referred to a girl as, “A daughter…the very spit of the old captain.” The French have their own version of this and refer to somebody as “the spitting portrait” of somebody else. Norwegian literature refers to somebody who is very similar to somebody else as having been “blown out of the nose of” that person! The first usage of the phrase as we know it comes from a 1901 novel by A.H. Price: “He’s jes’ like his pa – the very spittin’ image of him!”

As for “a chip off the old block,” the earliest usage of the phrase seems to have come from the Bishop of Lincoln, Robert Sandson, who said in a sermon in 1621: “Am not I a child of the same Adam … a chip of the same block, with him?” The great poet John Milton wrote, “How well dost thou now appeare to be a Chip of the old block.” Both of those, of course, say, “chip of the same [or old] block.” The earliest known reference to “a chip off the old block” appeared in June 1870 in the Ohio newspaper The Athens Messenger, in this sentence:  “The children see their parents’ double-dealings, see their want of integrity, and learn them to cheat … The child is too often a chip off the old block.”

Then there’s “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote that the apple never falls far from “the stem.” The first usage of the phrase as we know it is found in H.W. Thompson’s 1939 book Body, Boots and Britches: Folktales, Ballads and Speech from Country New York.  The meaning is pretty obvious: people, like apples, never fall far from their points of origin, their parents. Just as a fallen apple necessarily falls near the tree from whence it falls, so too children usually end up being very much like their parents. [1]

“The spitting image,” “a chip off the old block,” “an apple that doesn’t fall far from the tree”: all three of these phrases recognize the reality of the very close connection between parent and child. All three recognize that while parents and their children are not interchangeable, there is a bond between, say, a father and son that is predictable and very difficult to alter. It is only with great effort that we overcome aspects of our parents’ personalities that we might want to overcome. Conversely, it is a great blessing that we naturally inherit aspects of our parents’ personas that we truly wish to retain.

It is a universally recognized principle: children tend to be like their parents. We have other ways of putting this too: “he is walking in his father’s footsteps,” “he is his father’s son” (or “she is her father’s daughter”). Sometimes we shorten it even more: “she is her daddy,” “he is his father.”

That’s telling, is it not? He is his father! That can be used positively or negatively: he is his father.

Jesus, the Son, has been speaking to His disciples about His Father. It was how Jesus referred to God: Father. Not only that, it is how Jesus taught us to refer to God: “Our Father, who art in Heaven…”

Last week we saw that Jesus was going to the Father to prepare a room for us in the Father’s house. We also saw that Jesus is the way and the means to and by which we enter the Father’s house. This morning we will see that the disciples struggle to understand what Jesus’ relationship with the Father really is. He will be asked directly about this, and His answer will astound the original hearers and all of us to this very day.

William Barclay said of Jesus’ words here, “It may well be that to the ancient world this was the most staggering thing that Jesus ever said.”[2] A.T. Robertson, the great Greek scholar of yesteryear, commented on Jesus’ words in our text and called them “a bold and daring claim.”[3]

Staggering. Bold. Daring.

What Jesus said about His relationship with the Father was indeed all of this and more. That is because Jesus went well beyond the normal recognition of the closeness and connection of fathers and sons. All of that is true of Jesus and His Father, of course, yet there is so much more as Jesus reveals in our text.

Let us first look to verses 8-9 and see that Jesus the Son reveals God the Father. We begin with a question.

⁸ Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us.”

You may recall from some weeks back my mentioning that Philip was one of the disciples who had a Greek name (the other was Andrew). I noted this when preaching through John 12 and the scene when the curious Greeks asked Philip for an audience. It may, perhaps, be simply ironic, but this Jewish disciple with the Greek name asks for evidence, for further knowledge, for definitive proof, we might say, which was a very Greek thing to do. He presumes to speak for all of the disciples: “Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us.”

“It is enough for us”? Enough what? Enough proof? Enough evidence? Enough to get them to stop whispering curious questions behind Jesus’ back about the nature of Jesus’ Father?

It is a very natural thing to ask. Jesus, after all, has spoken at length about His Father. The Father had sent Jesus. The Father had empowered Jesus. Jesus could only do what He saw the Father doing. Jesus was going to prepare a room for His followers in His Father’s house.

Jesus raised the issue and did so consistently. Philip asks for evidence. “Lord, show us the Father.” The question occasioned a truly provocative response from Jesus.

^9a Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me, Philip?

Fascinatingly, Philip asks to see the Father…and Jesus begins speaking of Himself. Even here we begin to see the germ of a shocking possibility, an almost unspeakable thought about the connection between Jesus the Son and God the Father.

The disciples were by now accustomed to strange answers to what they thought were simple questions, but this was truly mind-boggling. Philip asks to see the Father, and Jesus responds, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me?”

Did Philip think that Jesus had misunderstood, that Jesus had misheard him? Did he open his mouth to say, “No Jesus, you misunderstood. I did not ask us to show us You! We know You! We see You! No, we are asking you to show us the Father.”

If Philip was going to say this, he did not get His chance, for Jesus goes on in the next breath to flabbergast His disciples completely:

^9b Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’?

“Jesus, show us the Father!”

“Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.”

There is irony here. Philip’s question reveals that the disciples do not believe they have seen the Father. If they thought they had they would not have asked the question. But Jesus’ answer reveals that they have seen the Father all along. They had been seeing the Father without realizing that they had been seeing the Father!

How is this possible? How could they have seen Him whom they claimed not to have seen? Is it not because they were seeing with their physical eyes but not with spiritual eyes of faith? Is it not because they were contented with the surface instead of realizing the depths and truths that lay before their very eyes?

St. Augustine put this beautifully when he pointed out that the eyes of faith were still being formed in the disciples and they were at this point unable really to see at all:

“Why wasn’t he seen? Because the eye he could be seen with was not yet whole. As for the Lord’s body, which could be seen with these eyes, it was not only the one who revered him who saw him but also the Jews who crucified him. So if he wanted to be seen in another way, it means he was requiring other eyes.” [4]

In other words, the physical eyes of man could look upon Jesus and either love and worship Him or hate and crucify Him. We see this today. Some people look at and love Jesus. Some people look at and hate Jesus. It is possible to look at Jesus but not really see who He is.

To eyes of faith, however, Jesus reveals more than what the physical eyes see. To eyes of faith, Jesus reveals nothing less than God the Father. “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” Eyes who look with faith upon Jesus can do nothing but love Him and revere Him and honor Him and worship Him and celebrate Him and exalt His name, for eyes of faith see that Jesus reveals His Father.

To see Jesus is to see the Father! Jesus explains and reveals the Father.

I mentioned St. Augustine earlier. Well, St. Augustine’s teacher, the great church father Ambrose of Milan, a wonderful pastor and theologian, said that Jesus was the “portrait” of the Father, and not just any portrait:

“Yes, he who looks on the Son sees, in portrait, the Father. Notice what kind of portrait is spoken of. It is truth, righteousness, the power of God. It is not silent, for it is the Word. It is not insensible, for it is Wisdom. It is not vain and foolish, for it is power. It is not soulless, for it is the life. It is not dead, for it is the resurrection.”[5]

Christianity is therefore a religion of revelation. It is not a secret religion. We do not have secret ceremonies. We are not a mystery cult. We do not have secret handshakes, secret looks, secret code words or secret doctrines. When Christianity met underground, it did so only for reasons of survival, not for reasons of concealing its convictions.

Our faith is built around a figure who is Himself the revelation of God. Jesus sheds light. Jesus makes known. Jesus uncovers. Jesus unveils. Jesus shows. Jesus announces. Jesus proclaims. Jesus is the great revelator. Jesus is revelation. Jesus shows us God.

To see Jesus is to see the Father.

To see Jesus heal is to know that God is a healing God.

To see Jesus forgive is to know that God is a forgiving God.

To see Jesus reach out to the outcast is to know that God is the God who loves outcasts.

To see Jesus tell His disciples to forgive and forgive again, is to know that God’s mercies are ever new.

To see Jesus weep is to know that God cares.

To see Jesus die…is to know that God will do whatever it takes to save lost humanity.

To see Jesus rise again is to know that God wins!

Do you want to know what God is like? Then look at Jesus and know!

In what ways does Jesus demonstrate the truth that to see Him is to see the Father? He demonstrates it in two ways: His words and His work.

¹⁰ Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own authority, but the Father who dwells in me does his works.

If you doubt Jesus’ unity and oneness with the Father, ask yourself this question: where could the words of Jesus have come from if not from the very heart of God. People ask, “How can I know that Christianity is true? How can I know that the Son and the Father are one? How can I trust in the deity, the divinity of Jesus Christ?”

Here is how: immerse yourself in His words. Read, learn and open your heart to the teachings of Jesus. The disciples knew in their bones that the kinds of things Jesus was saying were the kinds of things they had never heard anybody say before. They knew, as I know, as all of you who have trusted in Jesus also know, that the words of Jesus go to the very essence of our hearts’ condition. There is power in the Word of God, and the Word of God is Jesus!

“The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own authority…”

People sometimes condemn Christians for irrational belief, for believing against the evidence, but that is not my experience. What is irrational about hearing Jesus speak and feeling your heart burst into flame within your chest at the realization that these words are qualitatively different than anything else the world has ever heard before? What is irrational about hearing the teachings of Jesus and knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that the teachings of this Jesus have a shocking capacity to penetrate past our own thoughts and assumptions and an amazing ability to reveal to ourselves more than we previously knew?

Irrational to believe? No evidence? I see the evidence for the truth of Christianity every time I hear Jesus speak the Sermon on the Mount, every time I hear Jesus answer His religious critics, every time I see Jesus hold His tongue before a kangaroo court hell-bent on destroying Him. I see the evidence for Jesus every time I see Him speak words that silence hateful tongues or stop self-righteous hands from doing evil. I see the evidence of the truthfulness of Jesus whenever I see Jesus reveal more and more truth to His struggling and sometimes thick-headed disciples, when I see Him tell parables that seem so very simple at first blush but that end up being so utterly profound when you step into them that you marvel how such a simple story could be so multi-faceted and poignant.   I see Jesus as God and Man whenever I see Him confound Pilate, or acknowledge Judas’ coming crime, or foretell Peter’s denial, or forgive Peter.

No evidence? The evidence is in the words. Had Jesus never performed a miracle, I would believe, for His word is truth and His word is power.

But what of the human heart’s demand for more proof, for more certainty? There is more:

¹¹ Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, or else believe on account of the works themselves.

Are the words not enough? Can you possibly convince yourself that what Jesus said was not of God, was not divine in its origin? There is more. Jesus offers us the words and the works.

Jesus was no mere speaker, no mere preacher, no mere rhetorician. Jesus spoke words of power, but Jesus also confirmed His words in works of power.

¹¹ Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, or else believe on account of the works themselves.

Jesus states elsewhere that we are most blessed if the words are enough. In John 20, after Thomas asks to touch Jesus’ resurrected body so He can believe, Jesus responds:

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

Yes, we are blessed if we do not have to see the works…but Jesus is not stingy with His grace, not is He stingy with His evidences. In addition to His words, He works!

What are the works that confirm the words? The works are nothing short of His miracles, of His divine displays of power.

Are you not awed by His astounding teachings? Then be awed by Him turning water into wine. Be awed by Him healing the blind, the crippled, the lame. Are Jesus’ words not enough? Then what of His walking on water, His calming the storm, His multiplying bread and fish?

Even these miracles were merely preparatory for the great work to come: His work on the cross. Is it not enough that Jesus said God would forgive your sins? Then watch Him die as a sacrifice for your sins! Is it not enough that Jesus said God loves you? Then watch Him suffer on the cross to win you to the Father!

But there is even more. Is it not enough that Jesus said He would go to prepare a place for us in the Father’s house? Then watch Him, when dead and buried, breathe again on the third day, live and rise and walk out of the tomb! Are the words not enough? Then watch Him rise and ascend to the Father, speaking words of commission and mission as He ascended.

Dear friends, Jesus proves His deity through the words and the works. They are the two-fold evidences of His deity, His oneness with the Father.

But to what end, all of this? To what end? Are the words just so you can know more in your head? Are the works just so you can feel more in your heart? No. No, there is more! Jesus’ oneness with the Father, His coming, His evidential words and works are not intended merely to convince you. They are intended to call you and compel you to come into a relationship with the Father.

Consider the first verse of our text this morning:

⁷ If you had known me, you would have known my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.”

In verse 7, Jesus uses the word “know” three times. When Jesus uses “know” here, He is not speaking merely of knowledge. “Know” is not synonymous with “know about.”  Instead, “know” here is talking of intimate knowledge, relational knowledge.

Jesus is not talking about information. He is talking about a relationship.

Christ came that we might enter into relationship with Him and, in doing so, enter into relationship with the Father.

⁷ If you had known me, you would have known my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.”

Jesus’ words foretell a future shift in the way the disciples will know Jesus. As they see Him crucified and resurrected, as they experience the shattering pain of loss when Jesus dies and the ecstatic rebirth of faith when He rises again, they will grow in their knowledge of the Father and of the Son. But this knowledge will not grow only quantitatively. It will grow qualitatively. They will learn more about the Father through the Son, because they will finally see and love the Father in the Son.

This is a forward-looking promise: “From now on you do know him and have seen him…” A.T. Robertson suggested that the statement, “From now on you do know him,” should best be translated, “you are beginning to know the Father from now on.”[6] In other words, they see the Father in the Son, but they will grow to know Him more through the events that are about to take place. Or, as the church father John Chyrsostom put it, “The [knowing] belongs to the future; the [seeing] belongs to the present.”[7]

Do you see? Our journey with God in Christ is (a) relational and (b) progressive. We learn to love Him more and, as we do so, we travel deeper into who God is. We not only see the Father through the Son, we love Him as we love Jesus.

Lest you fear that I believe in a Binity instead of the Trinity, let me point out, as Jesus will do in next week’s passage, that God the Holy Spirit is at work revealing God the Father in and through God the Son, that the Holy Spirit convicts and calls and equips and builds and informs all who come to the Father through the Son.

I am a Christian. That means, by definition, that I believe in one God. “Hear oh Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one” (Deuteronomy 6:4). But this one God is one in essence and three in person. He is the “three-in-one” Triune God:  Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Our journey into the Triune God is a marvelous adventure of growth and revelation and understanding. God can be seen in Jesus! The Son is not the Father and the Father is not the Son but the Son and Father are equally God. So too with the Holy Spirit. Three persons, one essence: “God in three persons, blessed Trinity!”

Would you like to know the Father? Do you, like Philip, wish only to see God the Father so that you might believe? Then look and see! “Where do I look,” you ask? Simple: Look at Jesus! Look at Jesus and see God. Look and see and know and come and love and live! See and repent! See and let go of all that you were and are. See and embrace the Father through the Son by the power of the Spirit.

The gospel is quite simply the truth that God is in Christ reconciling the world to Himself. He did so on the cross and in the empty tomb, and He does so every time a human being repents of his sins, comes to the cross and empty tomb and calls on the name of Jesus today.

“He who has seen me has seen the Father.”

To see Jesus is to see God.

Jesus is God.

To come to the Son is to come to the Father.

There is nothing stopping you from coming but your own heart. Would you be forgiven? Then come to Jesus and be forgiven! Would you live? Then come to Jesus and live! Would you know God? Then come to Jesus and know Himtoday!

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Recently Roni and I watched the film, “Melancholia.” By the way, that is not an endorsement. It was an odd and “artsy” movie (and by “artsy” I mean, “Lots of people staring blankly for long periods of time while moving in super-slow-motion as classical music plays in the background). It was not without its merits, though we did have to hit the “fast forward” button a time or two.

The movie was written and directed by Lars von Trier. There is a lot of side story, but, at the heart of it, it involves two sisters and the different ways they coped with imminent worldwide destruction. As it turns out, a rogue planet named “Melancholia” is speeding toward the earth and will soon collide with it. The movie considers how different people handle the approach of certain death.

Of the two sisters, one is a severe depressant. She is so depressed that she actually ends her marriage at the wedding party after her own wedding! She can barely cope with life at all. Her sister, on the other hand, is depicted as reasonable and strong. She takes her depressed sister in and tries to nurse her to health.

The interesting twist comes in the way that the sisters deal with the knowledge that they will all soon die (along with the rest of the planet). Ironically, the depressed sister grows stronger and has no fear whatsoever. She could not handle her own wedding day, but she is icily strong and stoic in the face of imminent apocalypse. The other sister, however, becomes increasingly unglued as the planet and death approaches. Lars von Trier actually wrote the movie after he went through a season of depression. He discovered that depressed people tend to come unglued in the face of small things but tend to handle massive tragedy much better than others.

This is what the movie depicts. What you see in the movie is the ironic switching of places: the depressed sister who cannot handle life but can handle death and the strong sister who can handle life but cannot handle death. In the end, the strong sister has to be led and comforted by the depressed sister to prepare herself for their certain demise.

It is, as I mentioned, an odd movie. At the heart of the movie rests this question: How do you handle the certain approach of death? How does one keep from being troubled when one knows death is coming? And what do people who are going to die draw on to help get themselves through approaching tragedy?

The movie succeeds brilliantly, by the way, at asking the questions. If fails terribly at answering them. God is almost completely absent from the film. The depressed sister grows stronger, but she grows stronger in a kind of fatalistic nihilism. She tells her sister that the earth is evil, that it will be best for it to be destroyed anyway and that nobody is going to miss it. So her strength comes from her fatalistic negativity. Her sister on the other hand just dissolves into hysterics, unable to cope at all.

In many ways, I think, the movie is a parable about life. After all, death is approaching. We will die. And how do we handle that fact? How do we handle the certainty of our own coming demise?

It is a question we all think about, at times. It was certainly a question the disciples thought about. After all, their lives had taken a rather unexpected turn. They had met and taken up with this Jesus. He had told them a lot about life, had He not? He had showed them how to live it and what pits to avoid along the way. He had, in essence, redefined their lives.

But the thought remained: what happens afterward? As Jesus continues to prepare their minds and hearts to grasp the reality of the coming crucifixion, He turns to comforting them and preparing them to think about what comes afterward.

Jesus begins by naming that creeping sense of worry that was slowly coming over the disciples. This worry was inevitable, given their situation. They could not have grasped, at that point, the realities of the cross and resurrection. Jesus knew that their hearts were troubled. He knew their hearts would be troubled still more at His crucifixion.

Let us also admit that He knows the trouble of our hearts too. We too, even on this side of the resurrection of Jesus, struggle at times with the approach of death, with thoughts of the end. I believe, then, that Jesus spoke to the disciples and speaks to us even now when He said:

¹ “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.”

He names the trouble: “Let not your hearts be troubled…”

Let us remember that Jesus is not speaking dispassionately or in ignorance. It is interesting to note that the three chapters preceding our chapter this morning all contain references to Jesus being troubled:

John 11:33 – When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled.

John 12:27 – “Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? But for this purpose I have come to this hour.

John 13:21 – After saying these things, Jesus was troubled in his spirit, and testified, “Truly, truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me.”

Jesus knew what it was to be troubled, but there is comfort in seeing the Savior who was troubled telling His disciples not to be, is there not? Even here we begin to see in types and shadows the substitutionary work of Jesus. He is troubled, so we need not be. He stands on the anvil of the wrath of God so we need never stand there. He sweats drops of blood so we do not have to.

“Let not your hearts be troubled.”

But Jesus goes further: “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.”

In what way are we equipped against the worry that is inherent to the human condition? How do we not worry? How, in other words, do we have peace? This is how: “Believe in God. Believe also in Jesus.”

The “also” there should not be read as an argument against the deity of Christ. On the contrary, it is a gripping pronouncement of Christ’s deity. “Believe in God…believe also in me.” That “believe also in me” is a continuation of the command to “believe in God.” To put it mildly, that kind of talk went well beyond what prophets and teachers would normally say.

What is happening here? What is happening is nothing less than a divine offer of current peace in anticipation of eternal joy. Belief, faith, trust, the audacity to believe is the doorway through which God comforts us.

“Let not your hearts be troubled…” If you will allow the paraphrase, it is almost as if the Lord Jesus is saying, “Brothers, friends, you are about to see things that are going to test you mightily. Your faith will be tested. Your hearts will be tested. Your love for the Lord will be tested. I do not tell you that you will not see worrisome things. I simply tell you that you must not let worry drive out faith. You must not let the horrors of my crucifixion and the uncertainty of the days ahead cause you to lose faith. More than that, you must not let your own coming deaths cause you to despair. Let not your hearts be troubled.”

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.” “Oh, friends, listen: when the night is blackest and all hope seems to be gone; when you think it is over and that the whole adventure we have been on together has ended; when you see the stone rolled over the tomb and hear the devils laughing…then, precisely then, I want you to still believe. Believe against your eyes. Believe against your doubting hearts. Believe that all that I have told you is true, that I am in the Father and the Father is in Me. Believe, my dear disciples, that not even death can defeat me.”

Church, “let not your hearts be troubled…believe!”

Some of you experienced mind-numbing loss this year. Some of you experienced tragedy and pain. Some of you have had your faith tested. Some of you are in a battle. Some of you are fighting against the demons, and you feel that they are winning. Some of you are fighting against the Lord, and you do not want Him to win.

Listen to me. Hear me: believe!

Believe that Jesus is who He said He is. Believe that Jesus has done what He said He was going to do. Believe that there is a balm in Gilead, that there is comfort in the Lord. Believe that the paradox of the gospel is more true than the flimsy truths you think you see. Believe that God has drawn near to you in Christ and that He has drawn you near to Himself through Christ.

Church: dare to believe that the darkness does not win, that sin does not have to triumph, that marriages can be healed, that relationships can be restored, that the Lord can draw you out of deep, dark pits and that Jesus is greater than the devil.

Believe! Believe that God has great things in store for this church, that this church might yet have an impact on the nations. Believe that this year might yet be the greatest year in our hundred-year history.

“Let not your heart be troubled…believe in God; believe also in Me.”

Jesus offers us current peace in anticipation of eternal joy.

This eternal joy is coming and has come, now, in Jesus! And the joy that is coming is not a vague and nondescript joy. It is a particular joy, a specific joy, a joy orchestrated and architected by the Lord Jesus Himself.

² In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? ³ And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. ⁴ And you know the way to where I am going.”

“In my Father’s house are many rooms.” First, I recognize that many of your translations say, “In my Father’s house are many mansions,” but that simply is not the best translation of the Greek word used there. Andreas Kostenberger explains:

“The rendering ‘mansions’ (rather than ‘rooms’), which crept into English translations through William Tyndale (1526) via the Vulgate, mistakenly suggests luxurious accommodations in modern parlance (the Latin word mansion referred to a stopover place, which was still the meaning of ‘mansion’ in Tyndale’s day.” [1]

I realize that the “mansion” tradition has become customary for us, almost sacred really. For instance, when I pastored in Oklahoma we would routinely sing Ira Stamphill’s hymn that many of you know well:

I’m satisfied with just a cottage below
A little silver and a little gold
But in that city where the ransomed will shine
I want a gold one that’s silver linedI’ve got a mansion just over the hilltop
In that bright land where we’ll never grow old
And some day yonder we will never more wander
But walk on streets that are purest gold

Though often tempted, tormented, and tested
And like the prophet my pillow’s a stone
And though I find here no permanent dwelling
I know He’ll give me a mansion my own

I’ve got a mansion just over the hilltop
In that bright land where we’ll never grow old
And some day yonder we will never more wander
But walk on streets that are purest gold

Don’t think me poor or deserted or lonely
I’m not discouraged I’m heaven bound
I’m but a pilgrim in search of the city
I want a mansion, a harp and a crown

I’ve got a mansion just over the hilltop
In that bright land where we’ll never grow old
And some day yonder we will never more wander
But walk on streets that are purest gold

Again, I know the idea of Jesus going to construct a “mansion” is part of our religious tradition, but please do not reach the point where you cannot be corrected by the facts of correct translation. As a matter of fact, Jesus never said that He was going to prepare for us what we think of as mansions: large, independent, columned homes with high ceilings, grandeur and awe-inspiring architecture. No, what He said was that His Father’s house had many rooms and He was going to prepare a room for us.

Before you grow disappointed with this idea, let me suggest to you that the reality of the situation is this: a room in the Father’s house is far superior than a mansion on your own lot. Furthermore, Jesus’ choice of terms here is telling because of the two images it invokes.

To begin, the other place in the gospels where we find Jesus speaking of “my Father’s house” is in John 2:16. Do you remember this? Jesus had gone up to the Temple and there He found people selling all manner of animals in the Court of the Gentiles. The Temple had been perverted into a shopping mall! So in John 2:16, we find this:

And he told those who sold the pigeons, “Take these things away; do not make my Father’s house a house of trade.”

Now, what is interesting about this? Well, what is interesting is that Jesus refers to the Temple as “my Father’s house.” And, now, He speaks of going to prepare a room for us in “my Father’s house.” Obviously, there are temple ramifications here. The Temple was the dwelling place of God. That does not mean that God was confined to the Temple. No Jew would have thought that. But it means that the Temple was where the people of God encountered the living God in acts of worship. It was a sacred dwelling, it was the Father’s house.

So consider this: to have a room added to the Father’s house means nothing less than that our eternal existence will be spent in proximity to and joyful worship of and grateful service to the living God! Jesus may have been playing on the idea of “booths” here: the small dwelling places that the Jews constructed around the Temple during the Feast of Booths or Tabernacles for the duration of that holy feast. If so, He was saying to His disciples and He is saying to us that the room He builds for us in His Father’s house is no mere temporary hovel, no manmade squatter’s residence. No, through Jesus we take eternal refuge in the temple of the living God.

But there is something else happening here as well. Kostenberger also points out that, during this time, “it was customary for sons to add to their father’s house once married, so that the entire estate grew into a large compound (called insula) centered around a communal courtyard.”[2]

Ah! This is a compelling idea! When a groom would marry a bride during this time, he would said, “Don’t worry about the future. My father has a grand house. I will be adding us a dwelling place onto my father’s house. Then you and I will live there and enjoy the peace and stability and comforts of his house.”

Marriage language! Was Jesus drawing on marriage language? It is almost certain that this idea would have occurred to the original hearers, especially later as the doctrine of the Church developed and as the Church would be called “the bride of Christ.”

² In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?

A permanent addition to the Temple…for you and for me! A Groom’s addition to His Father’s compound…for you and for me! A home…for you and for me!

More than that, notice that Jesus twice says He will personally prepare this addition for us.

² In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? ³ And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. ⁴ And you know the way to where I am going.”

The idea of Jesus going ahead of us to prepare a place for us reminds us of the Lord going ahead of the Israelites to prepare the Promised Land for them (Deuteronomy 1:29-33).  William Barclay has helpfully shown that this image had a cultural connotation in the first century as well.

“One of the great words which is used to describe Jesus is the word prodromos (Hebrews 6:20). The Authorised Version translates it forerunner…In the Roman army the prodromoi were the reconnaissance troops. They went ahead of the main body of the army to blaze the trail and to ensure that it was safe for the rest of the troops to follow. The harbor of Alexandria was very difficult to approach. When the great corn ships came into it a little pilot boat was sent out to guide them in. It went before them, and they followed it, as it led them along the channel into safe waters. That pilot boat was called the prodromos.”[3]

This is especially helpful as we consider that Jesus’ going ahead of us to prepare a place was intended to keep His disciples from worrying. The future was the great unknown for the disciples. Even for those of us who believe, we sometimes tremble before the prospect of death. We look out and consider the end. We know what we believe and we believe what we believe, but sometimes we still worry about that moment of death. Our faith is never all that it should be.

Let me offer you a beautiful thought then: the Jesus who loves you and who died for you, the Lord who gave Himself for you on the cross and rose triumphant over the grave for you at Easter, that Jesus who has counted the hairs of your head and who knows your name…that Jesus has gone in front of you, ahead of you, into the valley of the shadow of death, into death itself. He has gone ahead of you, before you, and He has both conquered and illuminated the death.

It is not darkness that lay ahead. It is Jesus.

It is not a question mark that lay ahead. It is Jesus.

It is not a mere hope that we cling to. It is Jesus.

And He goes to prepare us a place, meaning He goes to prepare our eternal joy!

Jesus the architect of our eternal joy!

But there is more. Jesus reveals next the most crucial reality of the eternal joy He offers us here and now and of the joy He goes ahead of us to prepare for us.

⁵ Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” ⁶Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

This is astounding!

Thomas: “How can we know the way?”

Jesus: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”

Here is one of the most well-known sayings of Jesus: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” R.C. Sproul has pointed out that, structurally, this statement is given in “an elliptical form” and not as “a string of descriptive terms.” In other words, as Sproul puts it:

“He was not saying, ‘I am A) the way, B) the truth, and C) the life.’ Rather…Jesus was saying: ‘I am the way because I am the truth and because I am the life. I am the way to the Father because I am the true manifestation or revelation of the Father. I am the way to the Father because I alone have the power of eternal life.”[4]

This is a powerful way of considering a powerful truth: Jesus is the way necessarily because Jesus is the truth. Jesus is the truth necessarily because Jesus is the life.

Jesus does not stand in relation to our eternal joy in the same way that a builder stands in relation to a house he has built. On the contrary, Jesus is the means to our eternal joy. I love the Latin rendering of this: “Sum via, veritas, vita”…“I am the way, the truth and the life.”

As the way, the truth and the life, Jesus is the only way, truth and life. This is because only Jesus could become the means by laying down His life on the cross of Calvary. Jesus is the way…and the way of Jesus is the cross…and the way of Jesus is the empty tomb. The path to eternal joy, to a room prepared for us in the Father’s house, is the path of Easter.

And it is the only path. “No one comes to the Father except through me.” There is no other way to eternal joy and peace and salvation than the way of Christ. There is no other way than Jesus.

Mark me: you will never find peace outside of Christ and Christ alone. You will never find joy outside of Christ and Christ alone. You will never be saved outside of Christ and His cross. You will never have life outside of Christ and His resurrection from the dead.

The late D. Martin Lloyd Jones was a great preacher of yesteryear. He was also an accomplished physician. He had an acute understanding of depression and even wrote a classic Christian work entitled Spiritual Depression. He knew better than most how to speak to the reality of depression, of crippling melancholy and of a loss of peace.

He once said:

“You will never have true peace until your mind is satisfied. If you merely get some emotional or psychological experience it may keep you quiet and give you rest for a while, but sooner or later a problem will arise, a situation will confront you, a question will come to your mind, perhaps through reading a book or in a conversation, and you will not be able to answer, and so you will lose your peace. There is no true peace with God until the mind has seen and grasped and taken hold of this blessed doctrine [of peace through Christ alone], and so finds itself at rest.”[5]

I invite you this morning to come to Christ and rest!

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A week ago, Kim Jong-il, the North Korean dictator, died. Before his death, he made arrangements for his son, Kim Jong-eun, to succeed him. In fact, Kim Jong-eun has already been given the title “The Great Successor,” as he succeeds his father who was called “The Dear Leader.”

The giving of power to Kim Jong-il’s son is, as you might expect, controversial. In fact, it really is kind of shameless how the father prepared the way for his son to take power. Last year, as Kim Jong-il was growing increasingly weak, he named his son his successor and made him a four-star General in the North Korean military even though his son has never served a day in the military. More than that, he gave his son the title, “The Respected General.” The young man is allegedly twenty-eight years old (nobody really knows) and inexperienced (something everybody knows). In addition to giving power to a son who did not deserve it, who has done nothing to earn it and whose credentials have been intentionally overstated, news agencies report that, last year, “[d]uring his illness, Kim promoted his younger sister, Kim Kyong-hui, and her husband, Chang Sung-taek, to positions where they could oversee the succession of Jong-eun.”[i]

The media in North Korea is owned by the government and they, too, are doing all they can to make sure Jong-eun’s transition to power will proceed smoothly. The news stations are calling on the people to honor the young man, to “faithfully revere” him. Radio stations are currently playing two songs which are odes to the young man and his greatness. The people of North Korea have also been told that he is very smart, that he speaks many languages and that he is a computer whiz. Outside of that, nobody really know much about the young man, including his definite age, when he was born or even who is mother is.

Like many of you, I have watched North Korea over the last number of years with a sense of sadness and outrage. Jong-il was a ruthless and debauched tyrant and dictator who has the blood and suffering of countless human lives on his hands. Regrettably, the son will likely carry on this lineage of shame.

What fascinates me at this moment, though, is the giving of power to his son on the week leading up to Christmas. They do not celebrate Christmas in North Korea, for the dictator is the only god the people are allowed to reverence. But for those of us who can and do celebrate Christmas, consider the poignant irony of Kim Jong-eun as he contrasts with Jesus. This seems fitting, after all, since Christmas is about the relationship of another Father and another Son…the Father and the Son. But consider the contrast:

·        In North Korea, a wicked father prepares a wicked son to continue his reign of evil. At Christmas we celebrate a loving Father sending His perfect Son to reveal His reign of goodness.

·        In North Korea, a desperate father prepares the way for his son to have power. At Christmas we celebrate a sovereign God giving His Son a life of humility and lowliness.

·        In North Korea, the father has to make up fake titles so the people will revere the son. At Christmas, the Son sets aside his legitimate titles and becomes a baby, and we revere Him here today.

·        In North Korea, the father kept the son shrouded in mystery. At Christmas, the Son sets aside mystery and comes to reveal the Father.

·        In North Korea, the radio plays fabricated songs in an attempt to win the favor of a skeptical public. At Christmas, the angels sing songs to proclaim the glory of the Son.

·        In North Korea, the people do not even know who the mother of the offered son is. At Christmas, we know who Jesus’ mother is and we call her “blessed.”

·        In North Korea, the son’s power is manipulated and manufactured. At Christmas, the Son’s power is legitimate and righteous, but he sets it aside.

·        In North Korea, the people fear that the coming of the son will mean further anguish. At Christmas, the coming of the Son means freedom and joy and peace.

·        In North Korea, the father prepared for his son a crown and a throne. At Christmas, the Father prepared for His Son a cross.

·        In North Korea, the son shielded from the suffering people. At Christmas, the Son comes among the people, lives and shares their suffering.

·        In North Korea, people already cannot wait for the son to pass from the scene. At Christmas, we cannot wait for the Son to come again.

·        In North Korea, the people are told they must worship the son. At Christmas, all who see the beauty of the Son want to worship him

The world has never seen a King like Jesus. His idea of power has turned our ideas of power on their heads. His idea of glory has forever redefined what glory means. And it is at Christmas that we most realize these facts.

John of Damascus, a monk from the 7^th-8^th century, wrote this about Christmas:

“Heaven and earth are united today, for Christ is born! Today God has come upon earth, and humankind gone up to heaven. Today, for the sake of humankind, the invisible one is seen in the flesh. Therefore let us glorify him and cry aloud: glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace bestowed by your coming, Savior: glory to you!

Today in Bethlehem, I hear the angels: glory to God in the highest! Glory to him whose good pleasure it was that there be peace on earth!…Light has shone on those in darkness, exalting the lowly who sing like the angels: Glory to God in the highest!

Behold [Adam] who was in God’s image and likeness fallen through transgression, Jesus bowed the heavens and came down, without change taking up his dwelling in a virgin womb, that he might refashion Adam fallen in corruption, and crying out: glory to your epiphany, my Savior and my God!”[ii]

That is well said! Jesus is great and worthy of great praise. Let us, then, consider the shocking and unexpected greatness of Jesus. Let us consider who this baby is.

In the angel’s announcement to Mary, he reveals that Jesus will be a Savior.

³⁰ And the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. ³¹ And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus.

The angel tells Mary that she had “found favor with God.” That word “favor” is the Greek word charin which is also the word for “grace.” So the gift of bearing the Christ child was a gift of God’s grace and kindness to Mary. But this also means that Mary, in a microcosm, becomes a depiction of the world in general and of all who come to Jesus. For just as Jesus was a living sign of God’s grace in Mary’s life, so Jesus brings grace into the life of all who trust in Him.

Jesus is the Savior and He saves us by His grace. Even his name speaks of salvation, for the word “Jesus” means “Yahweh saves” or “Yahweh is salvation.” The angel told Mary that this baby would be named, “Yahweh is salvation.” Last week we saw in Matthew 1:21 that the angel told Joseph that “[Mary] will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”

This baby, then, represents God’s rescue mission for lost humanity. He was born to die and He died to save and He rose again to seal our salvation in eternity. Jesus is the Savior.

He said this Himself when He went back to His hometown of Nazareth and attended church there. We find this scene in Luke 4:

¹⁶ And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up. And as was his custom, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, and he stood up to read. ¹⁷ And the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written,

¹⁸ “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovering of sight to the blind,
to set at liberty those who are oppressed,
¹⁹ to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

²⁰ And he rolled up the scroll and gave it back to the attendant and sat down. And the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. ²¹ And he began to say to them, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

Of course, the people of His hometown rejected Him as most people will today as well, but the rejection of Jesus as Savior does not compromise the fact that He was, in fact, the Savior!

The whole universe waited with bated breath for the birth of Jesus. The whole universe groaned in anxious anticipation of a Savior who would come to set things right. From the very beginning, though, people have failed to understand the great significance of the birth of the Christ-child.

A few years ago the book Timelines of the Ancient World—A Visual Chronology from the Origins of Life to A.D. 1500was published by the Smithsonian Institute. It was promoted by the American Library Association and became a bestseller. It presents readers with timelines spanning periods of time showing along the way the most significant political and religious and cultural events of those periods of time. In the book on the timeline crossing from BC to AD, you would think the birth of Jesus would be listed as the most significant religious event. You would be wrong for thinking that. Instead, for the line crossing from BC to AD, this bestselling history book listed the “[addition of] four stone gateways to the Great Stupa at Sanchi in central India, showing scenes from the life of Buddha” as the most remarkable religious event.  Just imagine that: the line spanning from BC to AD, from “Before Christ” to “the Year of our Lord,” lists the erection of four Buddhist gateways in India as the great religious event of that period of time!

When pressed by some offended readers about how these gateways could conceivably outrank the birth of Jesus as the most significant religious event for that time period, the publisher responded, “While acknowledging that you are entitled to your opinion, our respective views as to the appropriate content and approach for the book are each valid from each perspective, but also very different.”[iii]

If that makes no sense to you, join the club. That answer is, of course, smoke and mirrors, but here is the brunt reality: all over the world today people awoke with a song in their hearts and with joy and hope and a sense of unbelievable peace. They did so not because four stone gateways to the Great Stupa at Sanchi in central India depicting scenes from the life of the Buddha were erected 2,000 years ago. No, they awoke with an otherworldly joy because a Savior was born this day! The great gateways at Sanchi cannot save us. The great Gateway that is Christ, however can! The angels did not herald the birth of the Buddha. We cannot stop celebrating the birth of the Christ.

Around 1600 years ago, St. Augustine stood before his congregation on Christmas morning and pronounced, “Your faith, which has gathered you all here in this large crowd, is well aware that a Savior was born for us today.”[iv]

I like that. Your faith has gathered you here today. Your faith knows the reason why! We gather because this day a baby was born who would grow into a man. But this baby was more than a baby and that man was more than a man. He was Immanuel, God with us. And He came to give Himself as a sacrifice to buy for Himself all who would come to Him in repentance and faith.

Today a Savior is born! Jesus is the Savior.

We do not merely marvel at His task, however. We marvel also at His person. For Jesus was the Son of God.

^32a He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High.

The angel says that Jesus will be the Son of the Most High, that is, the Son of El Elyon, which means “God Most High.”

The idea of the promised Messiah being the Son of God would actually not have been that surprising to observant Jews. After all, in 2 Samuel 7, the Lord sent Nathan the prophet to say the following to the King David:

¹² When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. ¹³ He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. ¹⁴ I will be to him a father, and he shall be to me a son. When he commits iniquity, I will discipline him with the rod of men, with the stripes of the sons of men, ¹⁵ but my steadfast love will not depart from him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away from before you. ¹⁶ And your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever.’”

The Jews would therefore not have objected to the notion of a Messiah King who was God’s Son. But they would have meant by this term nothing more than that God had raised the Messiah up, commissioned Him and secured His reign.

Jesus would fulfill but also would exceed this prophecy, for He would be without sin though He would take the sins of the world upon Himself on the cross. At first, however, the Jews would not have grasped the full implications of Jesus being called the Son of God. It is questionable how much Mary herself understood it. I agree with Darrel Bock when he argues that Luke, in his gospel, “chooses to present Jesus from the ‘earth up,’” and that “only slowly do people grasp all of what is promised.”[v]

Bock points out that Luke tends to present Jesus from the earth up but that John tends to present Jesus from Heaven down. This seems fairly clear. It is also clear, however, that much more was meant by “Son of God” than that the approval and blessing of God was on Jesus. In truth, this title really meant nothing less than that Jesus Christ was God among us. It was a statement of deity and we rightly hail Jesus as the second Person of the Divine Trinity.

In John 1:1,14, John eloquently says that, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

In Hebrews 1:3a, the writer of that book says Jesus “is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power.”

Paul, in Colossians 1, poured out divinely inspired speech when he wrote:

¹⁵ He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. ¹⁶ For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. ¹⁷ And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. ¹⁸ And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. ¹⁹ For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, ²⁰ and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.

Jesus’ sonship was therefore unique and exceeded the traditional understanding of the Messiah as the Son of God.

Jesus did not merely posses divine approval, He bore a divine nature. Jesus was not merely sent by God, He was God with us. He was the Son who alone could say, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9b).

There has never been a father/son relationship like the relationship between God the Father and God the Son. The amazing miracle of Christmas is that, in Christ, God has been born in human flesh.  The amazing second stanza of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” gets this right in a powerful way:

Christ by highest heav’n adored
Christ the everlasting Lord!
Late in time behold Him come
Offspring of a Virgin’s womb
Veiled in flesh the Godhead see
Hail the incarnate Deity
Pleased as man with man to dwell
Jesus, our Emmanuel
Hark! The herald angels sing
“Glory to the newborn King!”

Yes, in Christ, the Deity has become a man…and not simply a man, but a Jewish man, first a Jewish baby, born in a manger because there was no room for Him in the inn.

No room for God in the inn! How on earth can this happen? In fact, it can only happen on earth, but it was for the salvation of the earth that God was born in a manger.

In one of his Christmas poems, G.K. Chesterton wrote:

To an open house in the evening
Home shall all men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.

Jesus is the Savior, but Jesus is also the only begotten Son who shares the Father’s and the Spirit’s deity.

This Jesus is also sovereign. He has a reign and a rule and it is without end.

^32b And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, ³³ and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.

The shepherds found a baby in a manger, but, in doing so, the shepherds found a King. His royal rule is legitimate because he was born in the line of David. It is legitimate more so because He was Lord of heaven and earth.

Once again, we find in the birth of Jesus a fulfillment of the prophecies foretold of old. In Isaiah 9, the prophet foretold the unending reign and rule of the coming Messiah King:

² The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them has light shone.
³ You have multiplied the nation;
you have increased its joy;
they rejoice before you
as with joy at the harvest,
as they are glad when they divide the spoil.
⁴ For the yoke of his burden,
and the staff for his shoulder,
the rod of his oppressor,
you have broken as on the day of Midian.
⁵ For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult
and every garment rolled in blood
will be burned as fuel for the fire.
⁶ For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder,
and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
⁷ Of the increase of his government and of peace
there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this.

Ah! “Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end…” Jesus is Sovereign and King!

The people of the earth are already beginning to dream of the time when Kim Jong-eun’s reign will end…and end it will!  It will end just as the reigns of countless despots and dictators and tyrants have ended.  It will end and the earth will be better for it. But if the reign of Christ ever ended, the earth would cease to be!

^32b And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, ³³ and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.

Christ’s reign will have no end for it is founded not on popular vote or the will of the people but on the will of God Himself.

It seems to me that this day is worthy of celebration, of pomp and circumstance, of grand and grandiose proclamations! I personally like the “Proclamation of the Birth of Christ” from the Roman Martyrology for Christmas Mass. It goes like this:

The twenty-fifth day of December.
In the five thousand one hundred and ninety-ninth year of the creation of the world
from the time when God in the beginning created the heavens and the earth;
the two thousand nine hundred and fifty-seventh year after the flood;
the two thousand and fifteenth year
from the birth of Abraham;
the one thousand five hundred and tenth year
from Moses
and the going forth of the people of Israel from Egypt;
the one thousand and thirty-second year
from David’s being anointed king;
in the sixty-fifth week according to the prophecy of Daniel;
in the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad;
the seven hundred and fifty-second year from the foundation of the city of Rome;
the forty-second year of the reign of Octavian Augustus;
the whole world being at peace
in the sixth age of the world,
Jesus Christ the eternal God and Son of the eternal Father,
desiring to sanctify the world by his most merciful coming,
being conceived by the Holy Spirit,
and nine months having passed
since his conception,
was born in Bethlehem of Judea
of the Virgin Mary,
being made flesh.[vi]

The Savior, the Son, the Sovereign…Jesus! He reigns and rules forevermore. Does He reign and rule in your heart today? Does He? Have you embraced His eternal person and His eternal rule? Have you bowed heart and knee to this great and glorious Jesus today? Oh I do hope so!

Today, we celebrate the birth of Christ. But today, we might also celebrate your rebirth. Today, Christ is born! Today, Christ might be born in you.

Have you accepted Jesus? Are you saved? Have you embraced the Savior, the Son, the King? In Romans 10:9-10, Paul writes:

…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. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.

Confess. Believe. Be saved.

Would you like to be saved today? Would you?

Bow your heads with me this morning.

 

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In business, people sometimes conduct what is called a “cost-benefit analysis” (or CBA) of a project. That is, they study a project to assess the potential costs and the potential benefits of the project. If they find that the costs of a benefit greatly outweigh the benefits, the project becomes undesirable. On the other hand, if the benefits of a project outweigh the costs to a sufficient degree, the desirability of the project is greatly increased.

In other words, a “cost-benefit analysis” simply asks the following two questions of any project:

1.      What will this project cost us?

2.      What will be the benefits of this project?

It is really a very simple idea, and one that we all do all the time when we try to make decisions.

The gospel of Matthew’s account of the birth announcement of Jesus and the effects of that announcement is interesting because it is possible to do a cost-benefit analysis of the coming of Jesus into the world. To be sure, the coming of Jesus cost something. On the other hand, the benefits of the coming of Christ are almost incalculable.

This morning I would like to conduct a cost-benefit analysis of Christmas. By the way, lest you think this an inappropriate venture – a CBA of Christmas – let me remind you that Jesus asked us to do nothing less than this and, in fact, said it was unwise not to consider the costs of following Him. For instance, in Luke 14 Jesus said:

²⁷ Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. ²⁸ For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? ²⁹ Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, ³⁰ saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish.’ ³¹ Or what king, going out to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and deliberate whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? ³² And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks for terms of peace. ³³ So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.

Indeed, we should consider the cost of Jesus…and we cannot help but consider the benefits of Jesus. This does not mean that accepting Jesus is a pragmatic or utilitarian decision. In fact, I hope to show that at the very heart of the costs of Christmas there is a paradox which transforms the costs themselves into joys. Nonetheless, let us consider the costs and the benefits of Christmas. I would like to conduct this CBA of Christmas for the three central figures we find in this morning’s text: Mary, Joseph and, lastly, Jesus Himself.

Let us turn our attention first to the most obvious figure in the story: Mary. The mother of Jesus, for obvious reasons, stood to face the most devastating costs…and the greatest benefits. This is because Mary carried the gift of Christmas within her. She was connected to this gift in a way that nobody else could be.

¹⁸ Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. ¹⁹ And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.

·         Christmas cost Mary her peace.

New Testament scholar Craig Keener notes that “Mary would have probably been between the ages of twelve and fourteen (sixteen at the oldest), Joseph perhaps between eighteen and twenty.”[1] He is basing these numbers on what appears to be the average age of marrying couples in first century Judaism in the extant records from the time. If this is correct (and we have no real reason for denying that it likely is) then this means Mary was just a girl. Of course, all of this is relative since it was customary for a twelve to fourteen-year-old girl to marry in that day and in that culture. Either way, though Mary was almost certainly more mature than the average teenage girl today, Mary was just a girl.

It was a scary time to be alive in many ways. Being a young woman in this society had its challenges, though I do reject the myth that all females at this time were miserable and oppressed and devoid of happiness. Even so, this was a patriarchal society which itself existed under foreign rule. A young girl was about as vulnerable a figure as one could find in this society.

Even so, there were certain protections available to her. One of those was a good and solid marriage. A good marriage to a good man afforded material provision, a measure of protection, and, as much as could be had in a society like this, peace. To be sure, Mary’s peace of mind was bound up in having a good marriage.

Imagine, then, how this unexpected pregnancy shattered the peace of her present and the hoped-for peace of the future.

^18b When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.

An adulterous woman cast off from her husband was a woman with no hope of a second marriage, no hope of social normalcy and no hope of peace. She would be the Hester Prynne of her day: forever marked with a scarlet “A”. Imagine how this pregnancy shattered the peace of this young girl! Talk about your world being turned upside down! Mary’s peace was undermined by Christmas.

·         Christmas cost Mary her honor.

A young woman’s sexual purity in this day was her honor. It was the guarantee of a good character. On a Jewish girl’s wedding night physical proof of her virginity (the blood-stained bed sheet) was displayed for all to see as evidence of her purity and as confirmation of her honor. Mary would not have this. The gift of Christmas removed her honor as the world understands honor. Christmas meant to Mary that probably most people would view her as “damaged goods.”

·         Christmas likely cost Mary some friends.

People have ingenious ways of distancing themselves from the neighborhood scandal. What condescending whispers followed Mary through the streets? How did the other girls look at her when she was not looking? How did they look at her when she was looking? What did people say about “that girl” over the dinner table or at the well?

I’m curious: how many of her girlhood friends suddenly found difficulty finding the time to hang out with Mary? How many of her friends sheepishly called her into some dark corner to apologetically explain that while they still loved Mary personally their moms and dads just were not going to allow them to be seen with Mary again? How many friends hugged Mary goodbye and said, “I’m sorry Mary. I’m sure you understand.”

I’m curious: How many of the townsfolk made a u-turn when they saw Mary, alone, drawing water from the town well? How many conversations grew quiet when she walked by, only to pick up again in judgmental whispers when she passed? How many friends did Christmas cost Mary?

·         Christmas cost Mary her reputation.

How do you regain a reputation when it is lost? In a society in which a woman’s reputation was all she had, what exactly is left when you lose even that? Christmas cost Mary her reputation. She was no longer “Sweet little Mary.” She was now the girl who got pregnant out of wedlock, probably with somebody other than her betrothed, Joseph.

·         Christmas cost Mary the temporary loss of her husband’s trust.

Joseph was a righteous man. At no point does he attack Mary. But notice that Joseph learns of the pregnancy that he did not create in v.19 before he receives the angel and his explanation in v.20. This means that, at least for a time, Mary lost her husband’s trust.

I say “husband” because, in this culture, a betrothed couple was referred to as “husband and wife” even though the wedding had not yet occurred and the union had not yet been consummated. Betrothal, then, was something more than our idea of “engagement” though a bit less than our idea of “marriage.” It was a legal agreement, recognized by society at large, and infidelity in the betrothal period was seen as nothing less than adultery demanding divorce.

Perhaps the most painful cost Mary faced was the cost of Joseph’s trust. How do you explain something like this to your betrothed? Where do you begin? How did Mary look into the eyes of Joseph and begin to explain, “I am innocent, Joseph. I did not betray you. I have not been unfaithful.”?

·         Christmas threatened to cost Mary her life.

Christmas threatened Mary’s life, as the Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary explains:

“The terminology ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ were now used to refer to the betrothed partners…Sexual unfaithfulness during this stage was considered adultery, the penalty for which was death by stoning (cf. Lev. 20:10; Deut. 22:23-24, although by New Testament times stoning was rare.”[2]

Christmas could have cost Mary her life. Joseph could have turned her over to be stoned. Even so, religious zealots could have taken it upon themselves to carry out their own ideas of justice. I daresay this was not a safe time for Mary to be caught alone among some of the more stringent Jews.

Dear brothers and sisters, have you considered the amazing costs of Christmas to Mary? It cost her so very, very much. She did not need to have this explained to her. She understood it and experienced the costs of Christmas in ways that we will never understand.

I ask you: in the face of such overwhelming costs, can we even begin to speak of benefits? Is it not reasonable and right to assume that Mary must have wilted and lost faith under the crushing burden of this most invasive gift from God?

How did Mary assess the costs? How did she respond? Fortunately for us, God’s Word reveals the answer. You see, Mary did her own Cost-Benefit Analysis. After looking the whole situation over, she decided to sing her conclusion. Her song was sung to Elizabeth in Luke 1, and it reveals what Mary thought of the costs of Christmas:

⁴⁶And Mary said,

“My soul magnifies the Lord,
⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
⁴⁸ for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
⁴⁹ for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
⁵⁰ And his mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
⁵¹ He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
⁵² he has brought down the mighty from their thrones
and exalted those of humble estate;
⁵³ he has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
⁵⁴ He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
⁵⁵ as he spoke to our fathers,
to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”

How can this be? Has Mary seen the same Cost-Benefit Analysis that we have? Can our ears really be hearing rightly?

Yes, church, your ears have heard rightly. Mary weighed the costs, and she found them almost invisible in the face of the overwhelming joy of being the instrument through which God would bring His Son into the world. Her soul magnified the Lord! She saw herself as perpetually blessed!

For Mary the benefits obliterated the costs. Mary came to understand something very important: Christmas costs us everything…but Christmas costs us nothing, for the yoke of Christ is liberation and the burden of the gospel is nothing less than the wings on which we fly to heights of joy we can barely comprehend.

Mary weighed the costs and saw in the end that the benefits of having Jesus make the cost of accepting Him very, very small. Consider Mary and take heart: what you lose in embracing Christ is real and can be painful…but it is a temporary pain leading to an eternal joy.

Next we see Joseph, “a just man.” Joseph was a just man before he learned of Mary’s pregnancy and he was a just man after he came to accept it. In between, he was just but tried and sorely tempted. Matthew approaches the Christmas story from Joseph’s perspective. Luke approaches it from Mary’s. In Matthew, we find that Christmas did indeed come with a cost for Joseph.

¹⁹ And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly. ²⁰ But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.

·         Christmas almost cost Joseph his wife.

As mentioned earlier, Joseph learned of the pregnancy in verse 19 before he learned the truth about the pregnancy in verse 20. Between verses 19 and 20, then, was an intense internal battle. What should Joseph do? Matthew tells us:

¹⁹ And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly.

To say that this pregnancy threatened Joseph’s marriage is an understatement. As the Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary puts it, “Divorce for adultery was not optional, but mandatory, among many groups of ancient Judaism, because adultery produced a state of impurity that, as a matter of fact, dissolved the marriage.”[3]In other words, while the nature of the divorce could be more or less public, depending on the groom’s desire, the necessity for a divorce was all but certain.

It was a scandal for a Jewish man not to divorce an adulterous wife, even in the betrothal period. Thus, Christmas almost cost Joseph his bride…and a bride he loved very much. The fact that he did not wish to put her to public shame shows that Joseph’s confusion and possibly Joseph’s anger did not outweigh his love for Mary.

What agonizing grief did Joseph feel before he knew the truth (a truth that itself could not have alleviated all of his questions)? How do you close a door on love, even in the midst of an assumed betrayal? How do you throw a switch and cut off all of your dreams for the future, all of your dreams of having children one day with the woman you love, all of your hopes for domestic peace and stability?

Christmas almost cost Joseph his marriage.

·         Christmas cost Joseph his pride.

In verse 20, the angel encourages Joseph to stay with Mary.

²⁰ But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.

While there is no evidence that Joseph was a terribly proud man (indeed, there is a great deal of evidence of his humility!), it cannot be denied that Christmas cost Joseph his pride. While the angel’s explanation was undoubtedly comforting to a degree, how does a man not struggle with his pride when his wife is expecting a baby he knows is not his?

The coming of Jesus cost Joseph his pride, and it costs us ours today. In fact, a heart filled with pride has no room for the Christ Child at all. Even today, Jesus sweeps the pride from hearts that He would inhabit. It is a painful sweeping, but it is necessary.

·         Christmas cost Joseph his reputation.

In keeping Mary by his side, Joseph sacrificed and lost his reputation. We must understand that the stigma of this scandalous pregnancy was not only Mary’s to bear. Craig Keener points out that “Roman law actually treated a husband who failed to divorce an unfaithful wife as a panderer exploiting his wife as a prostitute.”[4]

In embracing the pregnant Mary, Joseph embraced the societal shame of her situation. Had he divorced her, it would have cleared him to a large extent. But to take her with her scandalous pregnancy meant that he shared in the supposed sin of her actions.

Christmas cost Joseph his reputation.

·         Christmas likely cost Joseph some friends.

It is almost unnecessary to put the word “likely” here. There can be no doubt that Christmas cost Joseph some friends. While it is almost certainly true that men throughout history have gotten off a bit lighter than their girlfriends or fiancés when an illegitimate pregnancy ensues, it must be understood that the stigma which fell upon Joseph when he refused to divorce Mary would have been too much for most of his friends.

Perhaps a few stalwart friends stood with him. Most probably did not. When Joseph took that young lady’s hand, he let go of a great deal of friendship. It is no small thing to lose lifelong friends. Joseph knew the pain of this, and Christmas was the reason.

·         Christmas cost Joseph his social standing.

A man’s name has always been his honor, in almost every culture throughout human history. While Joseph was not a wealthy or powerful man, he seems to have possessed the kind of virtues that would have given him a solid, if not exalted, social standing. At the very least we may safely assume that Joseph was known as a good and reasonable and solid man. In time, Joseph would have taken his place among the elders in the appropriate positions of respect and esteem.

But this! A pregnant betrothed before the marriage day? A refusal to divorce her as the dictates of society demanded? A brazen embrace of this woman who was carrying a child that was not his own?

Oh, Christmas cost Joseph something. It almost cost him his marriage. It certainly cost him his pride, his reputation, his friends and his social standing. When one considers all of these costs, what benefits could possibly balance out the scales?

Would you believe it if I told you that the benefits of Christmas for Joseph were exactly the same as the costs of Christmas for Joseph? What did Joseph lose or almost lose: his wife, his pride, his reputation, his friends and his social standing. But what did Joseph gain from Christmas: his wife, his pride, his reputation his friends and his social standing.

Is it not odd how the gospel replenishes ten-fold what the gospel costs? Like Job who saw his children and fortune and lands and health restored only after he lost them all, so Jesus takes from us only to bless us, wounds us only to heal us and calls us to a yoke only to set us free.

Joseph almost lost his wife through all of this, but, in the end, Joseph gained his wife. I ask you: was the threat worth the benefit? In the end, how much greater was Joseph and Mary’s relationship because they both had the audacity to believe a truth that threatened their very relationship? How much stronger was their marriage because they dared to risk their marriage for this scandalous Christ Child?

The same happened with the other costs. Joseph lost his pride, but for the last two thousand years the church has looked upon him with an admiration that he could never have imagined when these events occurred. Joseph lost his reputation, but for the last two thousand years his reputation has been consistently praised and celebrated by believers throughout the world who rightly look upon him as a model of humility and faith and trust. Joseph lost some friends through this, but how many friends has he gained? I tell you that I cannot wait to get to heaven and find Joseph and speak with him. I will consider him a friend! Let me also point out that the names of those friends who may have abandoned Joseph because of his refusal to divorce Mary have been lost to history. Nobody remembers Joseph’s friends, but everybody remembers Joe! And Joseph lost his social standing, but here we are, two millennia later, speaking the name of Joseph from a platform in a church in Ar-kansas!

Oh, Christmas cost Joseph everything…but Christmas cost Joseph nothing. For when we compare what Joseph and Mary gained, how can we trip over the small things they lost?

It is so even today, is it not? We give everything…to gain everything! This is the paradox of the gospel, the great irony at the heart of Jesus.

Speaking of Jesus, we dare not forget the costs of Christmas for Jesus. Our text records the angel’s explanation of the coming of Christ:

²¹ She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” ²² All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: ²³ “Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel” (which means, God with us).

We see the mission of Jesus explained here, but we also see the cost of that mission.

·         Christmas cost Jesus His throne on high.

While Jesus would ascend to His throne after the resurrection, let us not forget that he first descended from His throne when He became a man. The incarnate Christ did not remain enthroned. Rather, He humbled Himself and left His throne to live among lost humanity.

Nowhere is this truth more beautifully explained than in the Apostle Paul’s magisterial “Carmen Christi” from Philippians 2:

⁵ Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, ⁶ who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, ⁷ but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. ⁸ And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

What did Christmas cost Jesus? For a time, it cost Him His throne. This does not mean He abandoned His deity. He was always and ever God. But Paul writes that Jesus “made himself nothing,” that Jesus took “the form of a servant,” that Jesus was “born in the likeness of men.”

Christmas cost Jesus His throne, for a time. But the temporary abandonment of His throne does not lessen the wonder that He would do this for us! It was no small thing for God to become a man! It was no small thing for God to be born among the most humble of all people!

·         Christmas cost Jesus His transcendence.

God’s transcendence is God’s otherness. It refers to the fact that God is beyond His creation, that God transcends what we see. At Christmas, however, the transcendent God stepped out of His transcendent glory and into the muck and mire of the earth. He came among us and walked the same streets that we walk and ate the same food that we eat.

At Christmas, God became a man!

·         Christmas cost Jesus His distance from suffering.

Not only did God become a man, God became a man who suffered. Do you understand that Christmas was not a necessity for God? He did not have to do it. As the transcendent God, He need not subject Himself to suffering.

Unlike you and I, God could choose that God would never suffer. But while God could choose not to suffer, God, because of who He is, could not choose not to love. For His Word tells us that God is love. God cannot deny Himself.

So the loving God loved us so much that He chose to suffer. The angel said in Matthew 1:

²¹ She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”

Yes, He will save his people from their sins, and He will do it through the ministry of the cross.

Paul put it like this in Philippians 2:

⁸ And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

Jesus put no distance between Himself and suffering. He looked into the deep abyss of human misery and suffering and pain and loved us so much that He drew near to the point of being crushed by His own creation! Christmas cost Jesus His distance from suffering.

·         Christmas cost Jesus His life.

More than anything, Christmas cost Jesus His life. He…was…born…to…die.

Human beings find it socially unexceptional to speak of death around newborn babies. Which of us could imagine going into a hospital room with some young couple and their newborn baby and saying, “Oh, how precious! Wonder when he’s going to die?”

I will wager some of you just cringed at even that fictional account. It is inconceivable and terrible and rude and horrible macabre to speak of a baby’s death.

Can you imagine, then, what it means that Christmas celebrates the birth of a baby who was born to die. His death was bound up with His birth, for His birth signaled God’s resolve to sacrifice His only begotten Son to save lost humanity.

He was born to die. Christmas cost Jesus His life. The cross could be seen from the manger, and sacrifice was not far from his baby’s tears.

He came to die.

If it was hard for us to imagine benefits that could outweigh the costs of Christmas for Mary and Joseph, how much more difficult is it to conceive of the benefits for Christ, for whom Christmas cost so much. Mary did not die a violent death.  To our knowledge, Joseph did not die a violent death. But Jesus came to die. What possible benefit could Christmas have afforded this Child who would give everything?

Consider simply two.

First, in coming, Jesus won a bride. He won for Himself a bride! He grew in wisdom and stature and taught and modeled the Kingdom. He healed and performed exorcisms. He rebuked the proud and exalted the lowly. He spoke the truth and was crucified for doing so. But the crucifixion for which He was born was not a defeat. Rather, the cross was Jesus’ payment for a bride.

Jesus signed marriage papers with His blood. He opened the door to a bride who never would have dreamed of coming to Jesus had He not opened the door. He made the way straight for the bride to come!

Who is Jesus’ bride? Why, it is quite simply you…and you…and you…and us, His church. The bride is all who will come to Jesus and receive Him. Jesus gave His life but won a bride. Jesus rose from the dead and defeated sin, death and hell. In so doing, He secured the bride’s peace and the bride’s safety and the bride’s life!

Jesus won a bride! This was the benefit of Christmas. Perhaps you wonder, “How can winning us be worth it for the cost He paid?” I wonder the same when I consider how unfaithful we sometimes are to our groom. But then consider this: it matters not that we cannot imagine how winning a bride was worth the cost. All that matters is that Jesus thought winning a bride was worth the cost. And He did. And He does. And He paid the price. And Jesus loves His bride.

He loves you. He loves you. He was born to win you. His life was a payment for the wedding to which you are invited not only as an observing guest, but moreso as the bride herself! The groom invites you to walk the aisle to Himself!

What else? What other benefit did Jesus secure? Why, Christmas became the paradoxical means through which Jesus brought glory to His Father. He glorified the Father through His radical obedience and the Father glorified Him as well.

This is what Paul says in the conclusion to the “Carmen Christi” in Philippians 2. Listen:

⁹ Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name,¹⁰ so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, ¹¹ and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

What benefit did Christmas afford Jesus? I will tell you: He won glory for His Father. He honored His Father’s name. Oh, church, we cannot imagine how much the Father and Son and the Spirit love one another. We will marvel one day when we drawn near in glory to the glory of the triune God! Even more than a bride, Jesus cherishes His Father’s glory…and the Father cherishes the Son’s glory!

Oh, Christmas cost Jesus everything…but it gained for Jesus a redeemed bride and greater glory for the Father who sent Him.

A Cost-Benefit Analysis of Christmas. When we weigh it all out, was it worth it? Did and do the benefits outweigh the costs?

See the conclusion of our text:

²⁴ When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: he took his wife, ²⁵ but knew her not until she had given birth to a son. And he called his name Jesus.

Amazingly, wonderfully, beautifully, Joseph thought that Christmas was worth all that it cost. Mary thought that Christmas was worth all that it cost. Most gloriously, Jesus thinks that Christmas was worth all that it cost.

It will cost you everything.

It will cost you nothing.

Come to this God born in a manger.

Come to the child born to die.

Come to this Jesus and live.

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“It was a dark and stormy night.”

You have likely heard that line before. It is a famous opening line. It is actually an infamous opening line, usually because it is now seen as an overly-dramatic and formulaic bad attempt at setting an ominous mood in a novel. The line was the opening line of an 1830 novel by Edward George Bulwer-Lytton. It has become so famous that the English Department of San Jose State University hosts the The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest celebrating the worst examples of this kind of writing each year.

“It was a dark and stormy night.”

It has become a humorous and tired colloquialism in our day: “It was a dark and stormy night.” For instance, you may remember in the “Peanuts” comic strip that whenever Snoopy sat with his typewriter on top of his doghouse to begin his novel, he would type, “It was a dark and stormy night.”

I was thinking about that line this week. What made me think about it was a little, brief line in our passage this morning. It is tucked right in the middle. It is almost hiding there. You can find it there at the end of verse 30: “And it was night.”

It is an odd little sentence. It is rare because the New Testament does not often give us these kind of atmospheric observations normally, so we rightly suspect when we read this that it is telling us more than a mere description.

“And it was night.”

It does not say that it was “a dark and stormy night”…but it was dark and a storm was coming. Not a storm of wind and rain, though on the cross the weather itself would indeed revolt against the crime of crucifixion.

No, it was “a dark and stormy night” because of what was happening in the minds and hearts of the disciples as Jesus began to explain to them what was about to happen. There was a kind of spiritual turbulence in the air, a dark foreboding seems to have crept into the room where Jesus has just finished washing the feet of His disciples. There are flashes of terrifying lightning too, one in the person of Judas who will betray and one in the person of Peter who will deny.

“And it was night.”

John writes this because (a) it was night time but also because (b) mankind’s darkest hour and darkest crime was about to unfold. There is darkness in this scene. There is a prophesied betrayal and a prophesied denial…but in the middle of the darkness, love.

Having completed the shocking, prophetic and preparatory act of washing the disciples’ feet, Jesus turns to reveal that one of the twelve will betray Him. Once again, as we also saw in our last chapter (12:27), Jesus is troubled. But this time His spirit is troubled not only by the coming trial on the cross, but also by His coming betrayal at the hands of Judas:

²¹ After saying these things, Jesus was troubled in his spirit, and testified, “Truly, truly, I say to you, one of you will betray me.”

It is another odd event in an already strange meal. The shock of this statement was no doubt magnified by the fact that Jesus had just finished washing their feet and had just called them all to show one another that kind of love. But in the midst of this display of and call to humble, self-giving love, Jesus reveals that He is about to be betrayed. His words fell on the gathered disciples like a bomb:

²² The disciples looked at one another, uncertain of whom he spoke. ²³ One of his disciples, whom Jesus loved, was reclining at table close to Jesus, ²⁴ so Simon Peter motioned to him to ask Jesus of whom he was speaking.

It is tempting to play amateur psychologist with Peter at this point. Peter was usually the first to speak. Undoubtedly he was aware of his position as the lead disciple. Did he fear that he was the traitor? Or, more likely, did he not even entertain that notion and did he simply want to know the inside scoop? Did he feel entitled to know? Did he resent having to ask John, “the beloved disciple,” to find this out for Him? Or was this simply insatiable curiosity? Whatever his motives, he presses John to find out the identity of the traitor.

²⁵ So that disciple, leaning back against Jesus, said to him, “Lord, who is it?” ²⁶ Jesus answered, “It is he to whom I will give this morsel of bread when I have dipped it.” So when he had dipped the morsel, he gave it to Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot. ²⁷ Then after he had taken the morsel, Satan entered into him. Jesus said to him, “What you are going to do, do quickly.” ²⁸ Now no one at the table knew why he said this to him. ²⁹ Some thought that, because Judas had the moneybag, Jesus was telling him, “Buy what we need for the feast,” or that he should give something to the poor. ³⁰ So, after receiving the morsel of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night.

A few observations need to be made at this point. For starters, even though Jesus gave John what sounds to us like a very obvious clue, the scriptures assert that “no one at the table knew why he said this to him.” Meaning, somehow, it seems as if even John did not get that Judas was the betrayer.

Most interesting of all, let us notice the urgency in Jesus’ words to Judas: “What you are going to do, do quickly.” Remember: Jesus’ hour had come. It was time. Soon He would say from the cross, “It is finished.” Here He essentially says, “It has begun.” This should not be read dispassionately, as if Jesus has a mechanistic understanding of these events. This is not analogous to our idea of “getting the ball rolling.”

No, Jesus is deeply troubled and grieved. He is not flippant in His request. He knows what He is about to undergo, but He yields Himself to it nonetheless. “What you are going to do, do quickly.”

And then there is the tragic figure of Judas, the betrayer. We saw last week in verse 2 that “the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, to betray him.” Now we see in verse 27 that “Satan entered into him.” So Satan began his corruption of Judas by giving him a thought and a desire. Judas did not reject this idea. Instead, he embraced. Thus, “Satan entered into him.”

What we have here, then, is a possession, a hideous demonic, satanic possession of Judas Iscariot. But this possession was embraced by Judas whose heart was wicked. Judas was no victim. Judas knew what he was doing. The Satanic tune of the song he was playing did not make him any less responsible for playing the song.

Why did Judas do it? What was His game? Some paint Judas in colors of simple, basic evil. By this theory, Judas was simply evil, secretly hated Jesus and wished to see Jesus die.

Others suggest that Judas actually started following Jesus in earnest in the beginning. To be sure, He never truly accepted Jesus as his recurring crime of stealing money from the their common purse demonstrates. Even so, it is still possible that Judas thought he was part of a real movement but that he misunderstood the movement “from the get-go.”

This theory suggests that Judas assumed that Jesus was coming to be a political revolutionary, that Jesus was ultimately going to begin an insurrection against the occupying Roman forces. Then, the theory goes, Judas began to grow increasingly uneasy as he walked with Jesus. Jesus did not sound like a political revolutionary. Jesus did not do the things that revolutionaries did. In fact, based on many of his teachings concerning forgiveness, and blessing those who curse you, Jesus sounded almost weak.

If this is the case, it could be that Judas betrayed Jesus not primarily in the hopes of seeing Jesus die but mainly in the hopes of forcing Jesus’ hand, of driving Jesus out into the open, as it were. That is, perhaps Judas felt that by bringing Jesus into direct conflict with the Roman military machine, Jesus would be forced to become what Judas had hoped He was all along: a political, military revolutionary who would take up arms against Rome.

This could be true, though it is hard to tell. It might explain Judas’ grief and suicide at seeing Christ crucified. In this theory, Judas’ grief was attributable to his final realization that Jesus never intended to be what Judas thought He was, and that Judas’ efforts to force Jesus’ hands had backfired into a horrible crime and the murder of innocent blood.

Regardless, here is Judas, the traitor. He walked with Jesus and saw the works of Jesus…but still he betrayed Him. He talked with Jesus and heard the King of Kings teach about the Kingdom…but still he betrayed Him. He saw Jesus extend unearthly love and forgiveness to fallen people…but still he betrayed Him.

What a terrible act…and what a terrible word:  Judas! The name Judas has truly gone down in infamy.

There is an old myth from the Celtic Christians claiming that Brendan, the first Celtic sailor, once encountered Judas on an island during his travels. The following conversation ensues:

“I am Judas, most wretched, and the greatest traitor. I am here not on account of my own merits but because of the mysterious mercy of Jesus Christ. For me this is not a place of torment but rather a place of respite granted me by the Savior in honor of his Resurrection.” It was the Lord’s own day. “It seems to me when I sit here that I am in the Garden of Delights in comparison with the agonies which I know I shall suffer this evening. For I burn like molten lead in a crucible day and night at the heart of the mountain which you see, where Leviathan lives with his companions. I have a respite here every Sunday from first to second vespers, from Christmas until Epiphany, from Easter until Pentecost, and on the Feast of the Purification and the Assumption of the Mother of God. The rest of the year I am tortured in the depths of hell with Herod and Pilate, Annas and Caiaphas. Therefore I beseech you by the Savior of the world to be kind enough to intercede for me with the Lord Jesus Christ that I may be allowed to remain here until sunset tomorrow and that the devils may not torment me, seeing your arrival here, and drag me off to the hideous destiny which I purchased with so terrible a price.” St. Brendan replied: “The Lord’s will be done. You shall not be consumed by devils tonight until dawn.”[1]

In Umberto Eco’s novel, The Island of the Day Before, a 17th century man named Ferrante encounters Judas Iscariot chained to a rock in the sea. After inquiring as to the nature of his punishment, Judas offers this explanation:

            “Why, because God has willed that my punishment consist in living always on Good Friday, to celebrate always and every day the Passion of the man I betrayed. The first day of my suffering, when for other human beings sunset approached, and then night, and then the dawn of Saturday, for me only an atom of an atom of a minute of the ninth hour of that Friday had gone by. As the course of my sun began to move even more slowly, for the rest of you Christ was rising from the dead, but I was still barely a step from that hour. And now, when centuries and centuries have passed for you, I am still only a crumb of time from that instant…”[2]

What a terrible thought: to be stuck forever in the moment of your greatest sin! Indeed, we cannot even mention Judas’ name without thinking of his great crime!

Jesus was born to die and rise again, and Judas played the terrible role of the traitor in the great story of the cross.

After Jesus foretells His betrayal, He speaks to the disciples powerful words of love and of glory. Before we look at these words, let us see that Jesus’ words were bookended by the dark night of sin: Judas’s on the one hand and Peter’s on the other.

³⁶ Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, where are you going?” Jesus answered him, “Where I am going you cannot follow me now, but you will follow afterward.” ³⁷ Peter said to him, “Lord, why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.”

As if definitively to distance himself from the traitor, Peter makes a grandiose promise of faithfulness: “I will lay down my life for you.” If we are honest, we all understand what Peter is doing here. After all, which of us does not secretly enjoy those rare moments when we get to be “the good Christian” and maybe even “the super Christian.” Which of us does not relish the self-righteous rush of standing up after some Judas has left the room in order to proclaim, “I am not like him! I will follow you anywhere!”

Jesus has informed the disciples that they cannot follow Him where He is going. He is speaking, of course, of the events of His passion and of His coming ascension into Heaven after the resurrection. Peter, desperate to solidify his position as a faithful and true disciple, swears fealty and loyalty and devotion to his Master.

What Jesus said next undoubtedly floored Peter even more than Jesus’ initial revelation of a traitor in their midst.

³⁸ Jesus answered, “Will you lay down your life for me? Truly, truly, I say to you, the rooster will not crow till you have denied me three times.”

Here we see a rhetorical question followed by a terrifying revelation.

“Will you lay down your life for me?”

I imagine a flash in Jesus’ eyes as He asks Peter this question. Perhaps there was a new tone of aggression mixed with something like pain: “Will you lay down your life for me?” Once again, let us get the right emphases on the right pronouns: “Will you lay down your life for me?”

The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife at this point. Jesus has suddenly shifted from an enigmatic and mysterious teaching about His coming departure, to an abrupt and cutting rhetorical comment.

Was Peter shocked by this? Did Peter lean back, further away from Jesus and His painful words? Did Jesus pause after saying them? Did His eyebrows furrow? Did tears stand in His eyes and His lips tremble as He said this?

³⁸ Jesus answered, “Will you lay down your life for me? Truly, truly, I say to you, the rooster will not crow till you have denied me three times.

“No.  No Peter. No, you are not quite so different from Judas as you think. Not even you, Peter, can seize this moment and turn it to your own ends. Here in this room on this dark night, Peter, you will begin to understand the nature of the cross I am about to embrace. Judas will be damned and you will be saved, but it is not because you are better than Judas. It is not because you are above him or even above his crimes, Peter. Judas will betray me once. You will deny Me three times.

No, Peter, the difference between you and Judas is not your moral superiority. Rather, it is that you will taste the painful tears of repentance leading to life and Judas will taste the bitter tears of despair leading to death. But mark this Peter: I came to lay my life down for the Judas’s and the Peter’s alike. It is not about you, Peter. It is about Me and about what I am about to do for you.”

Do you see why it was dark? There was a darkness creeping in the room. From the one side there was a darkness of betrayal. From the other side there was a darkness of denial. Just as Jesus was crucified between two sinners so here He dined between two sinners. And just as one of the thieves on the cross repented and lived and the other denied Him and was condemned, so one of these two disciples will be saved while the other will die and be condemned.

The bookends of darkness creeping into this room are important. They remind us that we are all stained by the sin for which Jesus died. We are all culpable. Keep in mind that the first disciple to try to distance himself from Judas was none other than Peter…who would deny Jesus three times.

Dear church, hear me: some of us like to pride ourselves that we are not Judas. We have never betrayed the Lord. Wewould never sell Jesus to the forces of evil for thirty pieces of silver. We are no Judas!

Perhaps not, but what other option is there to Judas? Peter? He who denied Jesus three times? Perhaps you have not betrayed Him, but have you denied Him?

I believe we find these two examples in the upper room to remind us that Jesus came to die for the Judas’s and the Peter’s, the sinners…and the sinners.

Oh, it was a dark and stormy night after all. The storm of sin swept through the room and affected everybody except He who never sinned: Jesus.

We find in this room the darkness of betrayal.

We find in this room the darkness of denial.

But in the middle of the darkness, love.

Return now to the middle scene, Jesus’ words in verses 31-35. Standing between betraying Judas and denying Peter, what does Jesus say? Does He condemn? Does He ask sarcastically and bitterly if there is anybody in the room who will actually stand with Him in His moment of trial? Does He tear into the disciples and let them have it for being the sorry bunch they are?

What does Jesus say in the darkness of that bleak night?

Listen:

³¹ When he [Judas] had gone out, Jesus said, “Now is the Son of Man glorified, and God is glorified in him. ³² If God is glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself, and glorify him at once.

What is this? What is this?

Glory? Does He speak now of glory? Does Jesus stand in the midst of this foul and putrid and demonic creeping darkness and speak of glory? He knows that Judas will betray Him unto death. He knows that Peter will deny Him thrice before the cock crows. He knows the inky black and ugly darkness of the sin that will betray and deny and the sin of humanity for which He will die on the cross…and He speaks of glory?

No. No! It cannot be.

Glory, as we understand it, does not involve betrayal. Glory does not involve denial. Glory does not involve sin. Glory does not involve the night. Glory does not involve the darkness.

No, glory involves the opposite of these things. Glory involves the adulation of the crowds, the esteem of one’s peers, and the bright light of the midday sun. Glory involves cheering crowds singing praises and awestruck contemporaries who marvel at another’s greatness.

This pitiful scene in this upper room may be many things, but how, I ask you, can it be about glory?

“Now is the son of Man glorified?!”

“How so,” we ask. “How so Jesus?! You are not glorified here, you are betrayed! You are not glorified here, you are denied! What is about to happen to you is not glory, it is shame! It is not victory, it is defeat! It is not a crown, it is a cross!”

So our natural hearts rebel and kick against Jesus’ notion of glory…until we begin to remember who this Jesus is and what He is about…until, that is, we begin to realize that Jesus did not come to confirm what we think glory is. He came to redefine our notions of glory into what God says it is.

Do you see? For us, “glory” is synonymous with “fame,” with “adulation,” with “the favor of the crowd.” For God, “glory” is synonymous with “obedience,” with “sacrifice,” with “laying down one’s life for traitors and deniers.” The oldNew Century Bible says that “the glory of self-sacrifice filled His heart.”[3]

In the Kingdom of God, self-sacrifice is glory, God being born a baby in a manger is power and having the grace to forgive a disciple who denies you three times before the cock crows is beauty.

This leads us to one unmistakable and life-changing conclusion: the cross is glory. This is so not because the sins for which Jesus died on the cross are glorious. They are not. They are hideous, my sins and yours. No, the cross is glorious because it was there that the Lamb of God, the only begotten Son of God, fulfilled the Father’s just demand of righteousness and exemplified the Father’s great and unending love. The cross was glorious not because it was painless. It was anything but. No, the cross was glorious because on it the Son loved the Father and the world to the very point of painful death.

And the cross was glorious because it was the doorway to Christ’s glory three days afterward: the empty tomb. The cross was Jesus’ path to the resurrection. The darkness that fell over the earth during the crucifixion would soon give way to the glorious light of Easter.

Yes, there is darkness in this room, but in the midst of the darkness stands Jesus.

In the midst of the darkness, glory.

In the midst of the darkness, love.

Our final verses, 33-35:

³³ Little children, yet a little while I am with you. You will seek me, and just as I said to the Jews, so now I also say to you, ‘Where I am going you cannot come.’ 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. ³⁵ By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Glory.

Love.

It is not just that Jesus will demonstrate His love on the cross. It is also that His work on the cross will open the door for us to love one another as well.

“Little children,” He calls us. He calls us this because He loves us and He calls us this because He no doubt knows how unsettling the kind of love to which He has called us is. It is unsettling because it is the kind of love that forgives those who deny. It is unsettling because it is the kind of love that lays down its life for another. It is the unsettling because it is the kind of love that dares to follow the Father’s will, even to a cross.

There is darkness in this room…but in the midst of the darkness is love. And this love is Jesus. And this love is light. It is light shining in darkness. It is the light that beats back the darkness. It is the light that illumines all who step within its radiance, illuminating them in the process. It is the light that shines through those who come into the light.

It is light in the darkness.

It is love.

And this love is life.

And this life is offered to you today.

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I thought I might begin today by confessing a sin that has bothered me for some time.

Oh, I don’t mean repent of it. I’ve done that. I just want to confess it in an effort to bring some closure to my life in this area.

In the summer of 1995 I graduated from college. Roni still had a semester to go. We were to be married at the end of that year, on December 16, 1995. So instead of going on to seminary and coming back for Roni (something I did not want to do), I determined to find a place of service to work out the months while she finished her final semester.

As it happened, my home church in my home town was between Ministers of Youth and they hired me to be the interim Minister of Youth. I agreed to do it until December and that’s exactly what I did. Now, by that time I had done a few Minister of Youth interims and was somewhat familiar with serving on a church staff. But while I served on this church staff I attended the ordination service for a friend at another church. At that service I listened a friend of my friend deliver the ordination sermon in which he challenged my friend to be faithful in ministry.

I’ll never forget that at one point in the sermon he charged my friend with being careful not to get bogged down in tasks that other people could, not to give in to petty distractions. To illustrate, he told of a time when he, as the pastor, was informed that there was a problem with the fountain outside of their church. Their church had a large, wide fountain that shot water up in the air. Well, there was a problem and so my friend’s friend related that he grabbed his wrench, took his shoes off, rolled his pants leg up, got in the fountain, and started working on the pipes beneath the water. He went on to say that halfway through doing this he stopped and realized that this task could be done by somebody else. That he, as the pastor, could not do everything, and there were other people who could do this while he gave himself to doing the work of the pastor. He went on to say that he got out of the fountain and called somebody else to do the job.

Now, that struck me as reasonable and, in a sense, it still does. Pastors who try to do everything end up burning out.

So I had that sermon in my ears the next week when I was walking around my home church as the interim Minister of Youth. I was thinking to myself, “You can’t do everything. You have to draw boundaries.”

I was thinking this on a Wednesday night while walking through the church gymnasium on the way to the Fellowship Hall. While walking through, a lady in front of me stopped, called to me, pointed to a puddle of drink that somebody had spilled, and said, “Somebody has spilled something here. You might want to clean that up.”

Well!  Here was my big chance! Remembering the words of the ordination sermon, I said, “Yep. Somebody should.” And continued my walk. I will never forget the look on the ladies face. She stopped for a moment and stared in amazement, then sighed heavily, put down her Bible and books, and started walking in the direction of the bathroom to get some paper towels.

I congratulated myself! I had avoided a petty task! I had put up boundaries! I had refused to do something that was menial, not in my job description, and, frankly, something that lady could do herself.

It was a pretty cool feeling…for a few brief moments. It began to bother me shortly thereafter and has bothered me, off and on, ever since. Very quickly, my action struck me as haughty. It struck me as rude. It struck me as contemptuous. It struck me as petty. It embarrassed me.

It struck me as all of these things…and has done so for 16 years. I’ve been forgiven of it, but I’ve still carried it. Until now, that is. I’m tired of carrying it. I think I’ll put it down here and let it go.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, it should not be in the DNA of a blood-bought believer in Jesus Christ to turn his or her nose up at a task because it is too menial, too necessary. Nothing about the gospel tells us that we should refuse to get low. While I still maintain that it is reasonable for Ministers not to try to do everything (a principle supported by Scripture, by the way), it is also reasonable to expect that a Minister of the gospel would avoid pride, haughtiness, and an “I’m above that” mentality.

After all, our Lord and God came lowly to us in Jesus. Our Savior came on bended knee. Not only was no task too menial for Him, in fact He used the menial tasks to teach His greatest lessons.  In fact, Jesus could often be shocking in His examples of humility. Let’s consider one such example today.

One of the more shocking displays of humility and service that Jesus ever demonstrated occurred at the Last Supper He shared with His disciples.

¹ Now before the Feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.

Let us not miss the two important qualifiers that verse 1 put on our text this morning: (1) the events that follow are linked to Jesus’ “hour,” His coming crucifixion and resurrection, and (2) the events that follow are meant to demonstrate the consistency of the Lord Jesus’ love for His people (“having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end”). In other words, the shocking events that are about to take place are connected in some way to the coming crucifixion of Jesus and they are meant to help the disciples know Jesus’ love and understand how His love works.

² During supper, when the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, to betray him, ³ Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God, ⁴ rose from supper. He laid aside his outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around his waist. ⁵ Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around him.

It is frankly difficult for us to get our heads around just how shocking this action is. Andreas Kostenberger has pointed out that foot washing in first century Judaism “was considered too demeaning for disciples…and [was] thus assigned to non-Jewish slaves.” Furthermore, while there are biblical examples of Jews washing the feet of other Jews, “the washing of the feet of an inferior by a superior is not attested elsewhere in Jewish or Greco-Roman sources.”

In other words, Jews rarely washed the feet of other Jews (there are notable examples of this happening elsewhere in the Bible) and Jewish masters never washed the feet of their subordinates. What we have here is a scandalous violation of a social taboo. In washing the feet of His disciples, Jesus, the Master, effectively became the servant.

Please remember the two preface comments that verse one gave us: He did this to prepare the disciples for His crucifixion and He did this to demonstrate and define His love.

It will be helpful to realize that John 13 begins the second major literary unit of John’s gospel. Chapter 13 through the middle of chapter 17 constitute what is called Jesus’ “farewell discourse.” It is the beginning of a section in which Jesus begins to demonstrate what is about to happen on the cross.

I believe we may see in this shocking act of foot washing a kind of preface to or preparatory act for the cross itself. It is almost as if Jesus, knowing that the very idea of the cross would be psychologically and spiritually flabbergasting to the disciples, decided to do an initiatory and lesser physical act so that the disciples might begin to get their heads around the idea that not only was Jesus going to do something they would find very strange (i.e., be crucified), He was going to do something they would find shockingly unexpected.

The great Southern short story writer Flannery O’Connor was once asked why she wrote such gruesome short stories. She replied that in the land of the deaf and blind you have to shout loudly and draw startling images.

I believe Jesus is trying to draw a startling image here in order to prepare the disciples for something even more startling to come.

After all, how can we comprehend a Master who becomes a servant, a God who becomes a baby, a King who becomes a pauper?  We have the benefit of being raised, many of us, with the story of Jesus. We have been prepped for the shocking good news and, in fact, many have already grown bored of hearing it. But on the fresh ears of the disciples, the idea of the Messiah as a humble servant required preparation. He prepared them by scandalizing them with the washing of their feet.

The popular Bible commentator William Barclay spoke of this scene and said the following:

“When we are tempted to think of our dignity, our prestige, our place, our rights, let us see again the picture of the Son of God, girt with a towel, and kneeling at His disciples’ feet.”

That is good advice, to be sure! Let us remember the shocking service of our Lord!

The act was shocking in and of itself, but it was also shocking in terms of what it said and of what it foreshadowed. We can begin to get at what this act is pointing to when we observe Peter’s objection.

⁶ He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, do you wash my feet?” ⁷ Jesus answered him, “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.” ^8a Peter said to him, “You shall never wash my feet.”

Lest you marvel at Peter’s objection, remember how utterly unexpected this act was. Again, Rabbis did not wash the feet of their disciples in this culture. Even in our day we can understand this, but only to an extent. Peter acts with revulsion, not at Jesus but at the idea of Jesus washing his feet. Peter’s amazed reaction was similar to John the Baptist’s reaction when Jesus came to be baptized in Matthew 3:

¹³ Then Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to John, to be baptized by him. ¹⁴ John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”

It seemed to Peter as it seemed to John the Baptist: backwards, inappropriate, almost wrong. But in both cases Jesus persists and says it is necessary. Furthermore, Jesus goes on to tell Peter that more is happening here than Peter can currently grasp.

^8b Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.”

Obviously, the idea of having no share with Jesus, of having no part of Him was more disturbing to Peter than the idea of Jesus washing his feet, for not only does Peter relent, he actually asks Jesus to do even more.

⁹ Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” ¹⁰ Jesus said to him, “The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean. And you are clean, but not every one of you.” ¹¹ For he knew who was to betray him; that was why he said, “Not all of you are clean.”

This is a fascinating and strange conversation. We are privileged to be able to overhear this exchange in which more was being said than the mere words indicated. We know that Jesus is saying something profound about who He is, what it means to be in relationship with Him and what He is going to do. But what is it? What is Jesus driving at here? What is happening in this exchange?

Let us keep in mind the sequence of events:

·        Jesus comes to wash Peter’s feet.

·        Peter refuses to let it happen.

·        Jesus says that Peter will have no share with Him if he doesn’t let Jesus wash his feet.

·        Peter changes course and asks Jesus to wash all of Him.

·        Jesus says that one who has bathed does not need a full bath, just a foot washing.

It is an enigmatic conversation, and one that has puzzled interpreters through the years. I believe, though, that it is possible to get at what’s happening here by keeping a few important things in mind.

First, let us remember that all of these actions are connected with “Jesus’ hour,” and that “Jesus’ hour” refers to His saving work on the cross, His resurrection and His ascension to Heaven. Furthermore, these actions are intended to demonstrate and define Jesus’ love for His disciples. That means, then, that the washing of the feet is intended to prepare them to understand what is happening on the cross.

On the cross, Jesus shed His blood. This means that the water at the foot washing is a foreshadowing of the blood on the cross and that the washing with water is intended to prepare them for the idea of being washed with blood. Of course, it would be helpful if we had some other example of John speaking of forgiveness of sin in this way…and, thankfully, we do.

In 1 John 1, John writes this:

⁸ If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. ⁹ If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

John speaks elsewhere, in other words, of the forgiveness of sins as a “cleansing,” a “washing.” I believe that when Jesus talks about being washed or bathing or having your feet washed that He is speaking metaphorically here of having your sins forgiven. I believe the water is a preparatory symbol for the blood that He will shed on the cross.

What, then, of the difference between bathing and having your feet washed? If Jesus is speaking of the water as a symbol for the forgiveness of sin (and I believe He is), then He is saying that when a person is born again, when a person is saved, they are bathed in the blood, washed completely and forgiven. So if a person is born again, they do not need to be bathed again completely. They have already been bathed completely.

But, as we walk through the world sin still nips at our heels. We still struggle and fall. This means that while we do not need a complete bath, we do need our feet washed, we do need daily confession and repentance. It is not, then, that we have lost our salvation, that we need to be re-bathed. It’s simply the daily sins that beset us and the daily scars we collect from the attacks of the devil. I believe that John Calvin was right when he defined “feet” here as “a metaphor for all the passions and cares by which we are brought into contact with the world.” He also added that “Christ always finds something in us to cleanse.”

This is true. Christ does indeed always find something in us to cleanse. That’s because we struggle with sin, we stumble and fall.

Some of you think you need a full bath when what you really need is to have your feet washed. Translation: if you are saved you do not need to be saved again, you simply need to go to the Lord in a consistent spirit of repentance.

On the other hand, some of you think all you need is a foot washing when what, in fact, you have never been fully bathed. Translation: some of you have minimized your sins and localized them. You think that you simply need repentance over this or that action when, in point of fact, your very being is tainted with sin and under the curse of sin. You need to be bathed in the blood of the Lamb and receive the forgiveness of Jesus Christ.

This act of foot washing was shocking because it prophesied the crucifixion and Christ’s work on the cross. It prophesied the ultimate washing that would come only through the ultimate sacrifice. The water prophesied the blood.

It is all very shocking indeed. But the most unsettling aspect has yet to come. When Jesus is done washing the feet of the disciples He gives an explanation that calls us into a very uncomfortable area.

¹² When he had washed their feet and put on his outer garments and resumed his place, he said to them, “Do you understand what I have done to you? ¹³ You call me Teacher and Lord, and you are right, for so I am. ¹⁴ If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. ¹⁵ For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you. ¹⁶Truly, truly, I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. ¹⁷ If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them. ¹⁸ I am not speaking of all of you; I know whom I have chosen. But the Scripture will be fulfilled, ‘He who ate my bread has lifted his heel against me.’ ¹⁹ I am telling you this now, before it takes place, that when it does take place you may believe that I am he. ²⁰ Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever receives the one I send receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.”

It is one thing to marvel at the extent of Christ’s love for us, to be shocked by how far He would go to save us. It is quite another to see the humility and self-sacrifice of Christ as a lifestyle to which we ourselves are called. But this is exactly what Christ does: He calls us to follow His example. He not only calls us to follow the example in the upper room. He also calls us to follow His example in what the events in the upper room typified and signified: the cross. In other words, in calling us to wash one another’s feet, Jesus calls us to take up our cross.

Speaking of Jesus’ call for imitation, Francis J. Moloney refers to “the command to lose oneself in loving self-gift unto death.” That’s nicely said: “the command to lose oneself in loving self-gift unto death.” To wash one another’s feet is to serve one another in displays of shocking humility to the point of death itself.

Humility is our act of worship, our faith response to what God has done for us in Christ on the cross. Abbot Alonius, one of the Desert Fathers, said, “Humility is the land where God wants us to go and offer sacrifice.” This is true. Have you been to this land lately?

Before you begin to think of acts of service you have done, let me remind you of what unbelievably startling fact: when Jesus washed the feet of the disciples, Judas was still present. Our text says that Satan had already entered Judas but it also reveals that Judas does not leave the assembled disciples until after this act is complete.

The implication of this heightens the wonder and the pain of Jesus’ call to imitation, for it means that Jesus is not only asking us to wash the feet of our friends, He is also asking us to wash the feet of our Judases. It means that we are to wash the feet not only of those we love but also of those we might consider enemies.

Can you begin to imagine how this would change the church and the world? Such radically humble displays of self-giving would bind us together as a church and recreate us into an authentic family. Furthermore, it would both empower our witness in the world and be our witness in the world.

This is what it is to love. This is what it is to be Jesus to the world. This is what it is to wash feet.

Perhaps you remember the late Christian musician, Rich Mullins. Mullins once demonstrated in a simple but meaningful way what it means to be Jesus.

One day, Mullins fell into a very heated and intense argument with his road manager, Gay Quisenberry. They parted after a very sharp exchange. The next morning, Gay awoke to a strange noise coming from outside her window. She got up and went outside and stood stunned at the sight of Rich Mullins mowing her yard.

Simple.

Powerful.

Jesus.

This is what it means to wash feet. This is how the world is changed. This is how I am changed. Taking up your cross does not have to be grandiose and extravagant. It can be simple and compelling.

Let me ask you a question: is washing the feet of others part of your life? I do not wish to reduce this to mere acts of kindness. Rather, I wish to remind us that the cross which is foreshadowed by Jesus’ shocking act in the upper room compels us to do whatever we need to do demonstrated the heart of the gospel: God’s love incarnate in the crucified and risen again Christ.

Have you embraced this Jesus?

Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?

If so, how are your feet today? Do they need to be cleaned?

And what of your neighbor’s feet? Could it be that God is calling you to clean his feet or her feet today?

What do you think of Jesus Christ? Where do you stand with Him? It’s a rather forward question, is it not? It can also be a little awkward. Apparently, that question can even be awkward for ministers.

Thomas B. Woodward has passed on an interesting story from his own ordination into the Episcopal priesthood:

When I was undergoing my pre-ordination examination with my bishop and “a learned presbyter,” all was proceeding smoothly and according to expectations until someone mentioned Jesus Christ in responding to one of the set questions. The learned presbyter leaned forward in his overstuffed chair and addressed the other candidate for ordination in the room. “Well, Alan,” he said, “that is quite interesting: ‘Jesus Christ.’ That certainly raises an interesting question. Alan, ‘what think ye of Christ?'”

Other than the muffled coughs from the bishop, a certain quiet settled over the office. The bishop himself seemed embarrassed that the question had been asked. Alan seemed terrified at having to answer such a private and personal question. I was relieved that it was Alan and not I who had been addressed. The bishop, however, saved the situation by interrupting Alan’s soft mutterings with an innocuous question about protocols in hospital calling. Alan had been assisted in escaping what St. Peter could not.[1]

It is a sad state of affairs when the question, “What think ye of Christ?” becomes awkward even for the clergy, but apparently it happens. In truth, lots of people try to avoid the question, and, as in the story related above, lots of people find lots of interesting ways to steer clear of it.

Even so, make no mistake: everybody things something about Jesus. Everybody stands somewhere in relation to Jesus, either in a position of disbelief, or a position of belief or somewhere in the middle.

Everybody stands somewhere along the spectrum of belief. In fact, in our text this morning, Jesus addresses the three major areas along the spectrum of belief. He discusses those who do not believe. He discusses those who partially believe. Finally, He discusses what true belief is.

As we consider the spectrum of belief, ask yourself this question, “Where am I on this spectrum? Where do I stand in relation to Jesus? Who is Jesus to me?”

John begins by speaking of those who did not and would not believe:

³⁷ Though he had done so many signs before them, they still did not believe in him,

Have you ever known anybody like this? Are you like this? There are people who simply refuse to believe the truth about Jesus. In the face of all the evidence, they simply will not believe. And let us not kid ourselves with the notion that if we would have been alive two thousand years ago and if we had witnessed the miracles of Jesus personally, it would be easier for us to believe. That simply is not true. Belief is a matter of the heart and it has very little to do with evidence in most cases. If a man or woman does not want to believe, nothing will compel him or her to do so. Such was the case with these Jews in John 12. Such is the case today.

John goes on to say that their disbelief was foretold by the Old Testament prophet Isaiah. But while it was foretold, it was also deserved.

³⁸ so that the word spoken by the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled: “Lord, who has believed what he heard from us, and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?” ³⁹ Therefore they could not believe. For again Isaiah said, ⁴⁰ “He has blinded their eyes and hardened their heart, lest they see with their eyes, and understand with their heart, and turn, and I would heal them.” ⁴¹ Isaiah said these things because he saw his glory and spoke of him.

John says, then, three things of the disbelief of the Jews:

·        It was prophesied of old.

·        It involved a divine hardening of their hearts.

·        The divine hardening was itself due to their own wickedness.

It is very important that we not misunderstand what is being said here. Let us first realize that Isaiah’s prophecy did not lead to their disbelief. Rather, their disbelief led to the prophecy. The truth of the prophecy was grounded in the truth of their disbelief. John alludes to two of Isaiah’s prophecies and notes that they were fulfilled in the Jews’ disobedience:

“Lord, who has believed what he heard from us, and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?”

and

“He has blinded their eyes and hardened their heart, lest they see with their eyes, and understand with their heart, and turn, and I would heal them.”

The early church Fathers took great pains to show that Isaiah’s prophecy was not some kind of curse or hex that made it necessary for the Jews’ not to believe. On the contrary, the prophecy was simply predictive of what would, in fact, be the case. For instance, Theodore of Mopsuestia wrote:

“He does not mean this was the reason for their unbelief. Indeed how could their mind be forced to not believe against their will in order to fulfill the prophecy? The fact that the Jews did not believe the things that happened [in their midst] is nothing new. In fact, this had long been predicted and was well known. He quoted the prophet Isaiah because Isaiah had foretold that it would be difficult to find believers among the Jews.”[2]

Furthermore, John Chrysostom wrote that “it was not ‘because’ Isaiah spoke that they did not believe. Rather, it was because they were not about to believe, which is why [Isaiah] spoke.” He also wrote that the fact that “it was impossible for the prophet to lie” is not the reason why “it was impossible for them to believe.”[3]

It must also be understood that Isaiah was not teaching that God is the cause of their sin of disbelief when he prophesied:

“He has blinded their eyes and hardened their heart, lest they see with their eyes, and understand with their heart, and turn, and I would heal them.”

We instinctively revolt at the idea of God hardening somebody’s heart because we instinctively assume the innocence of the party whose heart is hardened. But Scripture and reason and history and the teaching of God’s Word all teach the contrary. God’s hardening of a heart is not separate from the rebellion of man. They are responsible for their hard hearts, not God. God’s hardening of their hearts was in full recognition of their refusal to believe, their desire to reject, and their hatred of God’s precious Son. For this reason, the church Fathers likewise sought to express that while God hardened their hearts, it was due to their unbelief. God Himself did not cause their unbelief because God does not cause sin.

St. Augustine wrote that “God, foreseeing the future, predicted by the prophet the unbelief of the Jews, but did not cause it. God does not compel people to sin, because he knows they will sin.” Augustine also suggested that “they could not” is essentially the same thing as “they would not,” since their sins held them culpable for their hardening. Cyril of Alexandria said of this text that, “even though we should accept the supposition that God blinded them, it must be understood that God allowed them to suffer blinding at the hands of the devil as a result of their evil character.”[4]

Indeed, the early Christians pointed to passages in Ezekiel and elsewhere that spoke of God’s desire for people to know Him and be saved:

For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, declares the Lord GOD; so turn, and live.” (Ezekiel 18:32)

Say to them, As I live, declares the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live; turn back, turn back from your evil ways, for why will you die, O house of Israel? (Ezekiel 33:11)

We rightly think of Paul’s words in 1 Timothy 2 as well:

³ This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, ⁴who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.

Make no mistake: the divine hardening of their hearts was nothing less than divine acknowledgment of that which the Jews had already embraced. They could not accuse God of not letting them believe or of forcing them to disbelieve. They had nobody to blame but themselves. Their disbelief was foretold, but it was also deserved. It was deserved because it was embraced and it was embraced because it was desired.

We all know people who seem to have been hardened. They have walked in unbelief so long and rejected the calling of the Holy Spirit for so long that they almost seem to have passed a point of no return. Their rejection of Jesus has calcified and hardened and they will not come. They and they alone are culpable, not God. His hardening of their hearts and blinding of their eyes is nothing short of an acknowledgment of their own desire to be hard-hearted and blind.

To refuse to belief is to embrace the soul-condemning, spirit-blinding darkness. It may be that you are here this morning and you have rejected Jesus. You have turned from Him. Maybe thus far through this service you have been aware of this. You feel your disinterest. You can taste mocking words in your mouth. You are in the process of rejecting Christ right now at this very moment.

To you I would caution this: do not harden yourself and so invite the hardening of God. Do not reject and pass beyond hearing. Do not turn and pass beyond coming.

I also say this to you: if you hear the gospel this morning and if you see Jesus, come to Him, run to Him, cling to Him, and beg His mercy.  If you come, He will not turn you out. If you call, He will not refuse to answer.

Jesus will save you today. Jesus will take you into His grace today!

Between the poles of belief and disbelief, we find partial belief. Partial belief is a step, but not an embrace. It refers to those who believe enough to whisper but not enough to cling. It refers to those who can no longer deny the deity and power and glory of Christ, but who have yet to embrace Christ for themselves. Here is John’s description of these partial believers:

⁴² Nevertheless, many even of the authorities believed in him, but for fear of the Pharisees they did not confess it, so that they would not be put out of the synagogue; ⁴³ for they loved the glory that comes from man more than the glory that comes from God.

They believe, but they fear. Because they fear, they do not fully come. In time, it seems that some of these did, in fact, come. Perhaps others fell away. They had a kind of belief that was not belief, a kind of faith that teetered on the edge of actual faith.

Notice the two reasons John gives for these partial believers’ partial belief:

·        Fear (v.42, “but for the fear of the Pharisess”)

·        Love of glory (v.43, “for they loved the glory that comes man more than the glory that comes from God”)

These are the two great reasons that always condemn the partial believer to their partial belief. And notice the singular fruit of partial belief:

·        Silence (v.42, “but for fear of the Pharisees, they did not confess it”)

The partial believer fears man more than God and loves man’s glory more than God’s glory. The inevitable result is silence: “they did not confess it.”

Partial belief is the great malady of our age. The partial believer is the man who tells himself he has believed, but who’s belief has not taken root and born fruit. The partial believer is the woman who says that her faith and her convictions are real, but they are private. She will not speak the name of Jesus aloud. She does whatever she can to avoid the awkwardness of actually having to stand with Jesus. She will timidly sing the hymns among church folk, but she will not speak the gospel where it will cost her something.

The partial believer is the man who gives ascent but who has no conviction, the man who says “I believe,” but who says it in a whisper, almost inaudibly. The cat has the partial believer’s tongue more than the Holy Spirit has his heart. His fear outweighs his conviction and his hunger for survival is greater than his hunger for Christ.

The partial believer is the man who tries that tragic, modern end-run around conviction: the separation of his life into the “secular” and the “spiritual.” He tries to do the impossible: he tries to serve two masters.

By confining his religious convictions to a self-constructed “spiritual” realm, he tries to have his cake and eat it too. In so doing, he tries to let Jesus in while consigning Him to the attic, away from the peering eyes of his visiting friends and family. He wants Jesus, but he prefers that Jesus stay in the backroom, the one with “Jesus’ Room” written over the door. In this way he can convince himself that all is well with his soul. For Jesus is never allowed out of His room to visit with his “secular” friends and his “secular” life and his “secular” world.

He does let Jesus come out into the living room when the overtly Christian friends are over. After all, not only can Jesus cause no mischief here, He can also be a means to personal profit. In playing this game, the partial believer uses Jesus when it is beneficial to do so and ignores Jesus when it is beneficial to do so.

Are you a partial believer? Are you a silent, secret, timid, opportunistic believer? Are you trying to live in the murky middle? If so, let me remind you of Jesus’ chilling caution to the lukewarm Laodicean believers in Revelation 2:

¹⁵ “‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! ¹⁶ So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth.

I believe we can rightly take this warning, substitute the word “beliefs” for “works,” and the spirit of the text will remain the same:

¹⁵ “‘I know your beliefs: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you believed either coldly or hotly! ¹⁶ So, because you believe lukewarmly, and neither hotly nor coldly, I will spit you out of my mouth.

Beware the lure of partial belief!

Against disbelief and partial belief, Jesus calls for genuine belief and acceptance:

⁴⁴And Jesus cried out and said, “Whoever believes in me, believes not in me but in him who sent me. ⁴⁵And whoever sees me sees him who sent me. ⁴⁶ I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness.

Jesus is asserting that He has not made up His teachings, that He has not fabricated His authority, that He is not just some religious teacher spinning a yarn. On the contrary, to believe in Jesus is to believe in God the Father. To accept Jesus is to do nothing less than to accept God. To come to the Son is to come to the Father.

Jesus is the light, and light penetrates the darkness so that we might step out of the darkness and into the light. Jesus calls for belief: real, authentic, true, unadulterated belief!

Jesus came to save, to call the world to believe and trust in Him. He did not come to condemn, as He explicitly says:

⁴⁷ If anyone hears my words and does not keep them, I do not judge him; for I did not come to judge the world but to save the world. ⁴⁸ The one who rejects me and does not receive my words has a judge; the word that I have spoken will judge him on the last day.

Do you see? Jesus does not condemn those who will not believe. His words condemn them. By speaking the truth, by shining the light in the darkness, by showing the way out, it became necessarily true that the rejection of that truth, the rejection of that light and the rejection of that way out was itself an embrace of condemnation.

The doctor who announces a cure to a disease does not condemn the one suffering from the disease if they reject the cure. On the contrary, the ones suffering from the disease condemn themselves when they reject the good news that has been offered. So it is with Jesus: Jesus offers the cure, the way out, the answer, the solution. He does not offer it to condemn, but in offering it it means that all who reject it are condemned.

This is because the words of Jesus are the words of God, and the answer Jesus offers to man’s predicament is God’s own answer:

⁴⁹ For I have not spoken on my own authority, but the Father who sent me has himself given me a commandment—what to say and what to speak. ⁵⁰ And I know that his commandment is eternal life. What I say, therefore, I say as the Father has told me.”

How beautiful! How glorious! “And I know that his [the Father’s] commandment is eternal life.”

Jesus came to shout light into darkness, to shout life into death, to shout salvation into the dark pit of damnation! Jesus came to reveal the will of the Father, and the will of the Father is eternal life.

Where do you stand on the spectrum of belief? Where do you stand with Jesus? He has spoken life and light and truth…why would you choose death and darkness and a lie? He has spoken resurrection and eternal life…why would you choose death and death eternal?

---

Many of you have likely seen the TV show, “Undercover Boss.” It’s a fascinating and moving show in which corporate executives and CEO’s go undercover to serve as entry level employees in their own companies. After working undercover for a week and getting to know some of their employees, the executives reveal their true identities to the employees and reward them for their hard work with money or trips or something along those lines.

The premise of the show is directly related to its popularity, for the great complaint one often hears against CEO’s and the like from their lower level workers is that the CEO’s are distant, that they do not know or truly understand what their employees go through and that they profit off of the hard work of the employees when (it is often alleged) they themselves do not know how to do the work or could not do it themselves if they had to. In other words, the complaint one often hears from workers against their bosses is a complaint concerning empathy.

Empathy refers to the ability to understand what other people are feeling. Employees eventually come to resent bosses who have no empathy. Most of all, they come to resent bosses that do not even posses the capability of empathy since those bosses (in their minds) do not understand what their employees go through.

Again, the popularity of the show “Undercover Boss” is based on the fact that the bosses bridge the empathy gap, become one of their employees, live in their worlds, eat their food, experience their trials and difficulties and come to understand who their employees are. “Undercover Boss” is about CEO’s and bosses who experience precisely what their workers experience. The result is that the bosses come to appreciate what the workers are going through and the workers gain a new respect for their bosses in knowing that their bosses have intentionally taken on their own struggles.

Nobody likes the distant boss who demands from his employees something that he himself cannot even begin to understand.

Quite honestly, there were probably some in the crowd who instinctively thought this when Jesus, in last week’s text from John 12, said:

²⁴ Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. ²⁵ Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. ²⁶ If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him.

I wonder: when the crowd first heard this (and, I wonder, when you first heard this), did they (or you) think, “Well, ok! That’s easy for you to say! You’re Jesus. You’re the wise one. It’s easy for you to ask us to die like a grain of wheat so that we can bear fruit. It’s easy for you to talk about us losing our lives so that we might gain them. It’s easy for you, Jesus, to demand sacrifices of us. After all, we’ve had people demanding that we sacrifice everything for our entire lives. It’s easy for you to ask for this, Jesus. We will have to bear the pain. You’re asking something of us that you yourself cannot understand. You do not know what it is to suffer under a burden like this. The boss never really knows the pain of the underlings.”

I wonder if some in the original crowd felt this way. I bet they did. I wonder also if any of you feel this way: that God asks more of us than He should, that the Lord is a distant boss handing down demands for our lives that He cannot understand, that it is somehow easy for Jesus to ask us to die because, after all, He’s Jesus and we’re struggling human beings.

Ladies and gentlemen, our text this morning is going to reveal something amazing. It is going to reveal that our Lord and God does not hand down edicts without empathy, without understanding. Our text is going to reveal that Jesus does indeed call us to die to self, but that He is not without understanding concerning that to which He calls us. More than anything, our text is going to reveal that Jesus’ resolve to bring glory to the Father was greater than Jesus’ struggle over the horrendous trial He was about to undergo.

Our passage this morning begins with an empathetic confession from Jesus:

 ^27a “Now is my soul troubled.

“Now is my soul troubled.” There is amazing empathy in these words. Jesus’ soul is troubled as He reflects on His coming crucifixion. I do not believe Jesus was exaggerating for dramatic effect. I do not believe He was saying this with a wink to Heaven, as if, while telling the crowd He was troubled, He whispers to the Father, “Not really!”

No, Jesus is troubled. The word “troubled” means, “revulsion, horror, anxiety, agitation.”[1] In a sense, we have a mini Gethsemane here. Here is Jesus’ acknowledgment of His own pain. The Lord Jesus was God and man. The Lord Jesus understood and understands all that He asked and asks of His people.

His pain is amplified in the next phrase:

^27b And what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’?

There is a question concerning how best to translate and read this verse. He asks a question, “And what shall I say?” Then He answers it, “Father, save me from this hour.”

The confusion comes in when we ask whether the words, “Father, save me from this hour,” constitute a question, as many of your Bibles will reflect, or a statement or exclamation. In other words, is Jesus saying:

(a)    And what shall I say? “Father, save me from this hour”?

or

(b)   And what shall I say? “Father, save me from this hour!”

The text can be translated and read either way. For my part, I agree with New Testament scholar D.A. Carson that it is likely best to read this as an exclamation and not a rhetorical question. It should probably read, “Father, save me from this hour!” Carson’s position is that if this is a question, Jesus is offering merely “a hypothetical possibility: ‘Shall I say, “Father, save me from his hour?”’” Carson suggests that if this is the case, and if Jesus is merely offering a hypothetical, then “what is troubling Jesus in the first clause of the verse is given no substance. If the question is only hypothetical and instantly rejected, the ‘trouble’ is merely reported and then instantly resolved.” He then goes on to say, rightly, I believe, that if this is a “positive prayer” (“Father, save me from this hour!”), it is completely consistent with Jesus’ Gethsemane prayer in Mark 14:36, “Take this cup from me.”[2]

However you read that, you must not read it as somehow lessening the “trouble” Jesus speaks of in the beginning of v.27. It was indeed trouble: terrible, attacking, horrifying trouble. We find here a very real Jesus experiencing very real trouble as He contemplates a very real and very brutal death. More than the physical ordeal ahead of Him, though, Jesus faced head-on the horrifying prospect of taking into Himself the sins of rebellious mankind.

This is important for two reasons. It is important first of all because it shows us that Jesus experienced more pain than any of us could possibly experience, for while He calls on us to become like a grain of wheat that is buried and dies so it can bear much fruit, He never calls on us to do what He Himself alone could do: bear the sins of the world and pay the awful penalty for them. Let us be clear on this: not only does Jesus experience trouble at the thought of dying, He experiences it on a level that we will never understand because His death and His suffering was qualitatively different from what ours is or ever will be. Jesus asks His followers to become a grain of wheat that is buried and then rises again. Jesus never asks His followers to bear the pain that He Himself could alone bear.

But there is a second and simpler reason why this is important. It means that while Jesus’ troubled spirit knew greater pain than we know, it did not know less pain. That is, whatever pain or trouble it costs you to die to self, Jesus understands it perfectly.

Jesus is not a distant, dispassionate, non-empathetic CEO who asks those beneath Him to shoulder burdens He cannot understand. On the contrary, in His incarnation Jesus comes among us, lives among us and experiences our trials and our pains. Jesus empathizes with humanity. Jesus understands. In Hebrews 4, the writer of that book writes:

¹⁵For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.

So when Jesus tells His followers that they must be willing to lose their lives to gain their lives, He is not playing with words. He knows how terrifying that prospect is, for He was “troubled” as He faced His cross.

Oh, church, do you understand the incalculable value of having a Savior who knows what it is to be troubled, to feel pain, to struggle under the load of what He was called to do in obedience of God? Many, many years ago, in the fifth century, the Patriarch of Alexandria, Cyril of Alexandria, wrote of the importance of this reality:

“Unless [Jesus] had felt dread, human nature could not have become free of dread. Unless he had experienced grief, there could have never been any deliverance from grief. Unless he had been troubled and alarmed, there would have been no escape from these feelings. Every one of the emotions to which human nature is liable can be found in Christ. The emotions of his flesh were aroused, not that they might gain the upper hand, as indeed they do in us, but in order that when aroused they might be thoroughly subdued by the power of the Word dwelling in the flesh, human nature as a whole thus undergoing a change for the better.”[3]

Our struggles and fears and pain are redeemed in the troubled soul of Jesus. We may never say of our God, “He does not understand what He asks of me! He does not know what His commands will cost!”

He does! Jesus was troubled, deeply, as He contemplated what it would mean to fulfill the Father’s calling.

And what did Jesus do? Listen and stand amazed:

^27c But for this purpose I have come to this hour. ²⁸ Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven: “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” ²⁹ The crowd that stood there and heard it said that it had thundered. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” ³⁰ Jesus answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not mine.

Behold Jesus’ resolve for the Father’s glory in the face of His own pain! He is troubled, but His troubles do not overpower His resolve. He is tempted to flee, but He does not flee. Our Savior empathizes with us in His struggle then He leads us by overcoming His struggle with resolve and obedience. This was no easy thing, but this was the right thing.

Jesus elevates God’s glory over His own struggle. In doing so, He gave us an example for our lives. The peace that the Son had in obeying the Father was greater than the trouble He felt over what it would cost to obey Him. So it can be and should be with us.

In Dante Alighieri’s Paradiso, Piccarda Donati says to Dante, “la sua voluntade e nostra pace.”[4] Translated, that says, “His will is our peace.”

God’s will is our peace! God’s glory is our peace! And either we will have peace in the Father’s will and glory or we will have misery in seeing our own wills and glory.

So Jesus resolves to embrace the cross. The cross was His calling. In doing so, He pronounces a kind of judgment on the world.

³¹ Now is the judgment of this world; now will the ruler of this world be cast out.

To be sure, as John 3:17 says, “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him,” but the announcement of the cross was, in a sense, an announcement of judgment as well. For while the crucified-and-resurrected Christ would save all who trusted in Him, the crucified-and-resurrected Christ would judge those who rejected Him and His great saving work. To reject the salvation of the cross and the empty tomb is to invite and embrace judgment.

Specifically, Jesus says, “now will the ruler of this world be cast out.” This is a title for Satan, the Devil, in many places in the New Testament. For instance, in Matthew 4:8-9 Satan presents himself as the ruler of the world when he takes Jesus to a high mountain, shows Him “all the kingdoms of the world and their glory” and says to Jesus, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.”

In 2 Corinthians 4:4, Satan is called “the god of this world.” In Ephesians 2:2 he is called “the prince of the power of the air.” In Ephesians 6:12, Paul writes:

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”

The cross and empty tomb spelled the end for the Devil. He may have rejoiced at the crucifixion of the Lord Jesus, but His rejoicing was short lived. On the cross, Jesus paid the price for the sins of lost mankind. In His empty tomb, Jesus defeated sin, death and hell. The cross was the payment. The empty tomb was the confirmation. In defeating the schemes of the devil, Jesus could say, “Now is the judgment of this world; now will the ruler of this world be cast out.”

So the cross brings judgment on the Devil and on the rejecting world, but the cross brings salvation and hope to the world as well, as Jesus revealed next:

³² And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” ³³ He said this to show by what kind of death he was going to die.

On the cross, Jesus is offered to the world. Jesus is offered to “all people.”

When Jesus says, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself,” He does not mean that all people are saved. We know this because, in the verses that follow, Jesus warns the people to believe while they still can. This rules out the possibility of everybody being saved. Furthermore, the Bible is quite clear in multiple places that there is a Heaven and a Hell and not everybody will be saved. Clearly what He means here is that salvation is offered to everybody in the world and those who come will be saved.

This is a great and glorious truth! The Son is lifted up from the earth (that is, He is crucified) and He stands as an offer to the earth to come and live and be saved. That means that Jesus has been offered on the cross to each and every one of you assembled here today. He is the cosmic Christ!

May I show you a picture that is meaningful to me? It hangs in my office today.

This painting was done by a friend of mine, a deacon at the first church I pastored right out of seminary in Woodstock, GA. I was amazed to discover that my friend Anthony had artistic talents. He did not like to be asked to paint, but he agreed to when I asked him if he would take a shot at a rendition of Salvador Dali’s 1954 painting, “Corpus Hypercubus.”

When he brought it to me, I was amazed. It is a different kind of painting, and I have on occasion had a person here or there tell me that they do not appreciate non-traditional depictions of the crucifixion. For myself, I love it. I love it for three reasons. I love it because a friend made it for me. I love it because it depicts the cosmic cross being offered up for the cosmos. And I love it because of who my friend Anthony was and is.

Anthony is a wonderful man. We haven’t spoken in some time, but I am forever grateful for the kindness he showed me as a deacon and as a friend. He was a great help to me.

More than anything, I’m touched by the fact that Anthony, the man who painted this for me, was the crime scene photographer for the city of Atlanta for many, many years. He retired while I was his pastor and he shared with me about the rigors of that job. He shared with me that for 20-30 years (I don’t remember exactly), he photographed almost every murder scene in the city of Atlanta. He shared with me briefly some of the things he had seen. I say “briefly” because he could not talk at length about the horrors of what he had seen, and, in truth, he did not need to. For over 20 years he saw and photographed unspeakable images of murder, violence, bloodshed, and horror. His job was to photograph the wickedness and depravity and evil of man. It did not leave him untouched and unscarred. How could it? I felt for my friend for what he had seen, and I still wonder how any one person can handle having to see so much ugliness in the world. My friend Anthony handled it better than I would have, but I shudder to think about what his eyes had witnessed.

So that’s why I love this painting. When I think about Anthony, the crime scene photographer, painting that image, it occurs to me that the beauty of the cross outshines the horrors of the Devil. I think that whatever terrors my friend Anthony saw, they do not match the wonder and grandeur of the cosmic Christ.

My friend washed his eyes out with Christ crucified and exalted. It too was a crime scene, was it not? On the cross the sins of mankind crucified the sinless Lamb of God. But it was not merely a crime scene. For Jesus was placed on the cross by the Father’s will as well. The Father is not a criminal. The Father called His Son to the cross to save the world from itself, from the devil, from sin, death and hell.

³² And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”

See Christ lifted up on the cross. See Christ emerging from the tomb of death, alive and victorious. Jesus invites us to see Him, then He invites us to come.

First, we see the shock of the crowd at the idea that Jesus would have to suffer and die.

³⁴ So the crowd answered him, “We have heard from the Law that the Christ remains forever. How can you say that the Son of Man must be lifted up? Who is this Son of Man?”

Jesus’ response reveals not only that, yes, the Christ must suffer and die, but also that the world must embrace this Christ in faith so that it might live.

³⁵ So Jesus said to them, “The light is among you for a little while longer. Walk while you have the light, lest darkness overtake you. The one who walks in the darkness does not know where he is going. ³⁶ While you have the light, believe in the light, that you may become sons of light.”

Jesus is the light. His crucifixion will not extinguish the light forever. On the third day after the crucifixion, the light will shine again, even out of the tomb of death. Jesus calls on the people to believe.

³⁶ While you have the light, believe in the light, that you may become sons of light.

There is a note of urgency here: “While you have the light…”

There is a note of need here: “…believe in the light…”

There is a note of victory here: “…that you may become sons of light.”

It is true! This Jesus must suffer and die. He will show what it is for a grain of wheat to fall into the ground and die. And, like a grain of wheat, He will bear much fruit after dying and being buried.

And we, lost and groping in the darkness, can come to the light, embrace the light, step into the light and live! We live by dying to self, by repenting of all that we have been and all that we are and coming into the presence of the Most High God.

“While you have the light…”

“…believe in the light…”

“…that you may become sons of light.”

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I suppose I have sung this hymn my entire life. It was written by B.B. McKinney in 1936. If you grew up in church, you likely have sung it as well. Here are the words.

Take up thy cross and follow Me,” I heard my Master say;
“I gave My life to ransom thee, Surrender your all today.”
Wherever He leads I’ll go, Wherever He leads I’ll go,
I’ll follow my Christ who loves me so, Wherever He leads I’ll go.

He drew me closer to His side, I sought His will to know,
And in that will I now abide, Wherever He leads I’ll go.
Wherever He leads I’ll go, Wherever He leads I’ll go,
I’ll follow my Christ who loves me so, Wherever He leads I’ll go.

It may be thro’ the shadows dim, Or o’er the stormy sea,
I take my cross and follow Him, Wherever He leadeth me.
Wherever He leads I’ll go, Wherever He leads I’ll go,
I’ll follow my Christ who loves me so, Wherever He leads I’ll go.

My heart, my life, my all I bring To Christ who loves me so;
He is my Master, Lord, and King, Wherever He leads I’ll go.
Wherever He leads I’ll go, Wherever He leads I’ll go,
I’ll follow my Christ who loves me so, Wherever He leads I’ll go.

The chorus goes like this:

It is true that familiarity usually breeds contempt, but, if it does not breed contempt, it at least breeds indifference. In fact, even the most scandalous ideas, if repeated often enough and ceremonially enough, lose their sharp edges and fail, in time, to shock us. This hymn is a case in point. I mean, honestly, have you considered what it means to sing this…to Jesus?

I have dreamed at times of interrupting some congregational singing of this hymn in this manner:

After all, if there is any idea with which we should not become comfortable or that we should not casually express, it is the idea that we will follow Jesus wherever He leads.

Do not misunderstand me: following Jesus wherever He leads is the very essence of the Christian life. Following Jesus wherever He leads is simply the definition of discipleship. That is what it means to be a disciple. We must follow Jesus wherever He leads!

But what we must not do is casually mouth that idea or make an empty vow of such without considering the life-altering implications of that assertion. To follow Jesus wherever He leads is to do nothing short of laying down your life at His nail-pierced feet and dying to self. It is, in other words, no small thing to follow Jesus.

In this morning’s text, Jesus begins to unpack for His disciples what it will mean to follow Him. This teaching is occasioned by a request from some outsiders to see Jesus. In response to this request, Jesus leads us all into a deeper understanding of the nature of the salvation He offers to all who will come.

As I mentioned, the occasion of Jesus’ amazing teaching is a request for an audience by some who had come to Jerusalem to see Him:

²⁰ Now among those who went up to worship at the feast were some Greeks. ²¹ So these came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and asked him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”

This is an intriguing situation. It is intriguing because these who come to find and see Jesus are “Greeks.” This term can mean ethnic Greeks or it can mean, more generally, Gentiles. In other words, the term can be used simply to refer to non-Jews. That is likely the case here.

If you wish to read this text uncharitably, you might see in this request potentially faulty motives. For instance, it could be that these Greeks simply want to see the latest, hottest religious figure on the scene. Or it could be that they simply want wisdom. After all, Paul generalizes to that effect in 1 Corinthians:

²² For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, ²³ but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles

Keep in mind that in our text Jesus never grants the Greeks the audience they seek. So maybe in His reaction to the disciples’ report of this request Jesus is offering a commentary on the faulty motives of those who simply see Him as a teacher of wisdom and is contrasting these people with true followers who will follow Him anywhere as Lord.

That could be, but I do not think we must read the text in this way. The Greeks may have been very sincere in their request. And while our text does not record Jesus granting the Greeks an audience, it does not mean that He did not. It simply means we have no record of it.

Regardless of why they came or what their motives were in wanting to see Jesus, their request was certainly unusual enough to strike Philip as odd. We can tell this by looking at Philip’s reaction to the request:

²² Philip went and told Andrew; Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus.

The Greeks ask Philip for an audience with Jesus and Philip immediately goes to Andrew. Why? Well, we have already seen enough to know that it could be tricky talking to Jesus. Perhaps Philip is uncomfortable going alone. And, of course, this is a very busy time for Jesus and the crowds at the Passover were pressing in on Him. Perhaps Philip and Andrew were uncertain as to whether or not Jesus should be disturbed at such a busy time.

More than anything, though, is the fact that these were Greeks. Whether they were merely curious onlookers or genuine Gentile God-seekers, the disciples likely struggled with whether or not Jesus’ arrival at the Jewish Passover should be interrupted with a request from some Greeks, from outsiders, as it were, from Gentiles.

I believe the fact that these men were Greeks is a crucial fact. Jesus’ response to the Philip and Andrew must have stopped them in their tracks:

²³ And Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”

How very odd! How very fascinating!

Consider this: (1) Greeks approach the disciples. (2) The disciples approach Jesus on the Greeks’ behalf. (3) Jesus announces enigmatically that “The hour has come…”

This was undoubtedly a bit confusing to the disciples. It had to be as thrilling to them as well. After all, they likely remembered Jesus’ response to His mother in John 2:4 at the wedding of Cana when she asked Him to help replenish the wine: “Woman, what does this have to do with me? My hour has not yet come.”

So in Cana Jesus had said, “My hour has not yet come.” Here Jesus says, “The hour has come…”

“My hour has not yet come…”

“The hour has come…”

I ask you: what has happened between these two pronouncements? What about this episode led Jesus to announce, “The hour has come”?

Specifically, what has happened is the Greeks, the Gentiles, the outsiders have come looking for Jesus. Here at this most Jewish of events, the world begins to come seeking Christ.

It is an intriguing thought, is it not? The Greeks come and Jesus says, “Now is the time. The hour is here. Now it begins.”

What is it that begins now? In a moment we will see that “the hour” to which Jesus refers is the process that will lead to His great salvific work on the cross and to His death-shattering resurrection. “The hour” means Christ’s work on the cross and His defeat of sin, death and hell in the resurrection.

For our purposes now, however, let us note the significance of Jesus’ proclamation of the hour that has come being occasioned by the approach of the Greeks. If you think about it, this is extremely telling, extremely important and extremely significant.

By announcing that the hour had now come, Jesus is revealing that He came not just for the Jews. He came for the whole world. He came for those Greeks as much as He came for these Jews. His person and His work, in other words, cannot be limited to a people, even to God’s own people. He has come to reveal that His arms are wide enough to reach the whole world, that His cross and resurrection will have cosmic implications that transcend the Jews.

With the coming of the Gentiles, Jesus announces: “The hour has come…” But then He goes further in defining “the hour”:  “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”

Well! The excitement generated by this last phrase no doubt eclipsed the confusion generated by Jesus’ odd response to the Greeks’ request to see Him. When Jesus says that it is now time for Him to be glorified, the disciples no doubt instinctively bought into the limited, politically-expectant euphoria of the triumphal entry crowd we considered last week.

This is all very promising to the disciples! Could it be that now Jesus will be glorified by revealing Himself in true political and military strength and power? Will Jesus now be glorified by leading an insurrection against the Roman swine who had contaminated the land of God’s people for too long?

It certainly sounds like it, does it not? After all, we like this talk of glory and we think we know what it means. Great military leaders get glory in their conquests. Heroes get glory in overcoming insurmountable odds. Charismatic revolutionaries get glory as they inspire people to greatness.

Almost certainly this is how the disciples would have interpreted Jesus announcement that now He would be glorified. Perhaps they cut expectant eyes at one another: “Yes! Yes! This is it! This is what we have been waiting for! Now it begins! Jesus is going to lead a movement, start a cause, begin a revolt! Now is the time for Him to get glory!”

This is how it sounds…but this is not what Jesus means. And if the disciples allowed their political imaginations to lead them into the clouds, they soon came crashing to the ground in confusion at what Jesus said next.

In response to their collectively-held breath, Jesus says:

²⁴ Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

This may go down as the most anticlimactic sermon in the history of the world. The disciples dream of glory in the terms that they know it. The disciples think of power and strength and might and esteem and the cheers of the people. And what does Jesus do? He talks about burying a grain of wheat.

²⁴ Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

It is humorous to try to imagine the disciples’ reaction to this. I suspect you could hear the crickets chirp, no? What, after all, could Jesus be talking about here? How do you get from glory to burying a seed in the ground so that it will die and eventually bear fruit? What does glory have to do with a seed? What does glory have to do with death, burial and ultimate fruit-bearing resurrection?

Ah! We have the great benefit of hindsight, of living on this side of the cross, do we not? But had we lived on that side of the cross we would have been just as confounded as the disciples no doubt were.

²⁴ Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

The disciples would soon learn the connection between glory and death-and-resurrection. They would soon come to see that Jesus came not to obtain glory in man’s terms. He came to be glorified in His Father’s terms. He came to redefine glory. And how did Jesus redefine glory? He redefined it with His cross and His empty tomb.

Listen very closely: glory in the Kingdom of God comes through dying to self so that we might live for the will of the Father. Glory comes in the giving of all that we are so that we might obtain all that He is.

Glory, Jesus shows us, is obedience to the Father’s will, even to the point of dying on a cross. Glory is becoming a grain of wheat that dies, is buried and then bears fruit. The seed does not bear fruit until it is buried. Jesus does not rise again until He is crucified.

This leads us to the most shocking teaching of all of Scripture: Christ is glorified as He dies on the cross and rises again. The glory is in the cross!

This is a scandalous idea. The cross, to the ancient world, was anything but glorious. It was hideous. It was awful. Timothy George and John Woodbridge have offered some interesting insights into how terrible the idea of the cross was to the ancient mind:

“For two thousand years the cross has been so variously and beautifully represented in Christian iconography and symbolism that it is almost impossible for us to appreciate the sense of horror and shock that must have greeted the apostolic proclamation of a crucified Redeemer. Actually, the Latin word crux was regarded as an expression so crude that no polite Roman would utter it in public. In order to get around this difficulty, the Romans devised a euphemistic circumlocution, ‘Hang him on the unlucky tree’ (arbori infelici suspendito), an expression that comes from Cicero.”[1]

But this crude and impolite idea was nothing less than the Son’s glory. The cross was the glory of Jesus because the cross was the ultimate expression of the Son’s obedience to the Father.

This is what it means to be glorified in the economy of God: to die for the glory of the Father, to lay down one’s life for another.

The Greeks revealed that the focus of Christ’s salvation is the whole world. The buried grain of wheat reveals that the cross and resurrection is the mean’ of Christ’s salvation. Then the Lord Jesus moves to a shocking invitation to salvation.

It is one thing to try to get your head around the fact that the Son was glorified on the cross, on the tree of cursing. It is one thing to have to start grasping the fact that Jesus came to die and rise again for us. But then Jesus goes further and invites us likewise into this glory.

²⁵ Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. ²⁶ If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him.

The cross, then, was uniquely for Jesus in the sense that only He could pay for the sins of the world upon it. But the cross is more generally for all of us as it represents what it means to trust in Jesus truly and to give Him our lives fully.

Jesus will lose His life and then be given life in the resurrection. So, too, if we wish to have life, we must be willing to lose our lives as well.

James Montgomery Boice has pointed out a fascinating feature in the Greek words used for “life” in v.25 that helps us really get at what Jesus is saying here:

We read, “The man who loves (or hates) his life,” and he shall keep his “life,” and for us there is no way of telling that the words “life” and “life” are different in the original language. Yet this is the heart of what the verse is saying. The first word is psuche, which refers to the life of the mind. We call it the ego. It means the human personality that thinks, plans for the future, and charts its course. Jesus is saying that this is what must die. In other words, the independent will of man must die, so that the follower of Christ actively submits his will to him. The other word is zoe, which, joined to the adjective “eternal,” means the divine life. Every Christian has this eternal or divine life now, but he has it in its fullness only when his entire personality with all its likes and desires is surrendered to Christ. It is close to the same thing to say that the Christian will experience the fullness of God’s blessing only when he consciously and deliberately walks in God’s way.[2]

This is life-changing in its implications. We receive the divine life only when we are willing to let go of our earthly lives. It is only when our egos, our psyches, our psuche, die that we are finally able to live.

This means that the cross is not merely the means of our salvation, it is also the path for our lives. We must die to self so that we might live. We must take up our cross daily and follow Him (Luke 9:23).

Before one of his classes at Duke Divinity, Stanley Haurwas once prayed 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.”[3]

Indeed, we might have to bleed. Whether we bleed or not, we must die to self.

It is all very unsettling, but, when you seek to step into the reality of this truth, you find that it is all very beautiful and very true and very liberating. It is a glorious freedom to die to self.

What does it look like to follow Jesus to the cross, to die to self for Christ and to bear much fruit in doing so? Perhaps an example might help us. Let us consider one of our great missionary heroes: Adoniram Judson.

Judson was a preacher’s son and was born in 1788. While in college at Brown University, he abandoned his family’s faith and became a Deist under the influence of a friend named Jacob Eames. Under Eames’ influence, Judson came to believe that there was a God, but that God was distant and indifferent to the world. He certainly was not the God of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

After college, something happened that made Judson reevaluate his views on God and return to the Christian faith. He was in an inn one night and he heard through the wall of his room the physical agonies of a man in the room next to him. The man in the other room was obviously very sick and possibly dying. All night long Judson lay there and listened to this poor man groan and struggle in physical misery. All night long he heard the agony of this man.

The next morning Judson enquired about the man in the room next to him. Was he ok? To his absolute shock, the inn clerk responded that the man had died. To his greater shock and horror, the inn clerk told Judson that the man who had died in such agony was named Jacob Eames! Without knowing it, Judson had listened all night to the violent, terrible sounds of his own friend’s death, the very friend that led him away from his Christian faith.

This shook Judson to the core. He reflected on his life and on the God he had abandoned. Finally, he turned back to God and vowed to give the Lord everything he had. It was not long before the Lord laid a burden on Judson’s heart. He called Judson to the mission field. He called him to go to Asia.

Before going to the mission field, Adoniram Judson married. He married a girl named Ann. When he proposed to her, he said: “Give me your hand to go with me to the jungles of Asia, and there die with me in the cause of Christ.”

The Judson’s set sail for Burma, modern day Myanmar. They arrived in 1813. There were no believers in Buddhist Burma. On their first Sunday, they had the Lord’s Supper alone. There was no one else they could invite.

Adoniram and Ann threw themselves into their work, but it was hard work and fruit was slow in coming. Judson had been warned by no less than William Carey, the father of the modern missionary movement, that it was impossible for the gospel to take root in Burma. He was told it would never happen. For a long time, it seemed like that was true.

The language of Burma was seemingly impossible to grasp, but Judson threw himself into it and in three years time, after studying twelve hours a day with a tutor, he was able to speak it.

Their time was marked by personal tragedy. Ann had miscarried on the boat on the way to Burma. She also gave birth to a son in Burma who died at eight months of age. They were rebuffed and largely ignored when they tried to share the gospel. The Buddhists of Burma cared nothing for it and shrugged off their efforts.

In the meantime, Adoniram and Ann worked and labored with no fruit. Adoniram began to write on the Burmese language and in 1817 he published a grammar of the language that is used to this day. He also began translating the Bible into the local language.

Finally, after a lot of prayer and work, Judson baptized his first convert to Christianity in 1819. It took six years for Judson to see any fruit: a single convert to the faith. By 1822, there were 18 converts to Christianity.

During the Anglo-Burmese war, Judson was thrown into a brutal prison, accused of being a British spy. For twenty months he was subjected to great hardships, often being suspended upside down by his feet with just his head and shoulders touching the ground. During this time, his wife pled to anybody who would listen for her husband to be released.

In 1826, Ann died of sickness and disease. Six months later, their third child died. Judson would marry again but lose his second wife to illness in 1845. He would finally marry a third time.

Johns Stott writes that, “Adoniram Judson lived in Burma for 37 years, from 1813 to 1850. When he first went to Burma, he said that he wanted to see a church of 100 members formed in time. However, when he died in 1850, there were seven thousand baptized converts in sixty-three churches. There are now more than three million Christians in Burma.”[4]

This is what it means to die to self and live for Christ. This is what it means to follow Jesus.

Wherever He leads I’ll go.

Let us consider these words before we sing them. Christ has called us to follow Him wherever He leads. But brothers and sisters in Christ, we know where He leads. He leads to a cross. It is a painful cross. It is a cross that tests us and challenges us. It is the cross of Christ’s ultimate obedience.

But that is not all. Christ leads to the cross but the cross leads to the empty tomb. If we die with Him, we will be raised with Him. If we will take the cross, God will give us the empty tomb. If we will embrace the crucifixion, we will live in resurrection.

Will you embrace this Jesus today? Will you embrace this Jesus who died on the cross for you?

I do so hope you will.

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No doubt many of you have seen the amazing 2000 movie, “Gladiator.” The movie stars Russell Crowe as a Roman General who finds himself having to survive as a Roman gladiator in the hope of avenging the murder of his wife and child who died at the command of the corrupt Emperor Commodus. The life of a Roman gladiator was, of course, dangerous and brutal, and Maximus must use his amazing fighting and survival skills to achieve his goal of standing before the Emporer responsible for the death of his wife and son.

Beginning in the lowest ranks of gladiatorial combat, Maximus and the others are trained by a former gladiator named Proximo to be effective combatants in the arena. Proximo regales the gladiators with tales of his own earlier successful career as a gladiator and how he rose through the ranks and received honors from the Emporer in Rome. Proximo is also intrigued by Maximus and asks him what it is that he wants. The following conversation ensues:

Maximus: You ask me what I want. I, too, want to stand before the Emperor as you did.

Proximo: Then listen to me. Learn from me. I wasn’t the best because I killed quickly. I was the best because the crowd loved me. Win the crowd, and you will win your freedom.

Maximus: I will win the crowd. I will give them something they have never seen before.

“Win the crowd, and you will win your freedom.” It is a simple plan that Proximo proposes, and Maximus does just that. He becomes the consummate gladiator: ruthless, brutal, effective and victorious. He becomes a destructive force in the arena…and the crowds come to love him!

Yes, Maximus wins the crowd. At one point, he dramatically cries out to the crowd, “Are you not entertained? Are you not entertained? Is this not why you are here?” To which the crowd begins to chant for him, “Spaniard! Spaniard! Spaniard!” As an aside, a short time after that movie came out, Roni and I were in Rome standing in the Coliseum. We walked past a group of young Italians who were looking into the Coliseum, laughing and shouting, “Spaniard! Spaniard! Spaniard!”

Yes, Maximus decided to win the crowd and, in doing so, he won his way up to the big stage of the Roman coliseum where he was finally able to win his vengeance against Commodus (while paying a price himself in the process).

It made for a great movie, a moving movie, in fact. But I’m struck by something when I think about that movie. I’m struck by how very different Maximus is from Jesus.

Maximus decided to be whatever he needed to be to win the crowd and seek revenge.

Jesus never deviated from who He really was and died at the hands of the crowd so that He might offer grace to the world.

Maximus was driven by vengeance and the desire to see a guilty man pay for his sins.

Jesus was driven by love and the desire to die Himself so that the guilty could be forgiven.

Maximus courted the favor of the crowd so that he could accomplish his goal.

Jesus courted the favor of the Father whether the crowd loved Him for it or not.

Gladiator was a great movie. Jesus is a great Savior. Given the choice between the two, I will take Jesus all day any day.

Jesus had an interesting relationship with crowds. The scene we encounter in John 12:12-19 occurred at the time of the Passover, when Jews came to Jerusalem to celebrate God’s deliverance of His people from bondage in Egypt, and that was always a time of big crowds. Joseph, the Jewish historian, noted that there were around 2.7 million Jews at Jerusalem for Passover in the year 65 A.D., so that may give us some help in understanding the size of the crowd on this date, somewhere around 30 A.D.[1]

When we look at our text, we see four crowds in particular. They are interesting in the ways they varied. Most of all, they are interesting for how they reflect on the various crowds’ approaches to Jesus in our own day.

The first crowd we see is the curious and caught-in-the-moment crowd.

¹² The next day the large crowd that had come to the feast heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. ¹³ So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying out, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel!”

This crowd goes out in a celebratory mood. Andreas Kostenberger notes that the phrase “went out to meet him…was regularly used in Greek culture, where such a joyful reception was customary when Hellenistic sovereigns entered a city.”[2] And their going was based on the buzz that surrounded Jesus and the news that He was coming near: “the large crowd that had come to the feast heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem.”

Verse 18 gives us even more specific news on the motivation of this crowd:

¹⁸ The reason why the crowd went to meet him was that they heard he had done this sign.

Their motive, then, was curiosity and a sense of excitement at the fame of Jesus. They were caught-in-the-moment, as we might say today. Their excitement was a kind of paparazzi excitement. They wanted to capture an image to show others. They wanted to say that they had seen the miracle worker who had purportedly raised Lazarus from the dead.

Please notice, however, that there is no indication of anything like conviction or belief on the part of the crowd. They did not have a relationship with Jesus. They did not know Him. Rather, they had simply heard of Him and wanted to see the show.

If you feel that this is too negative a reading of their interest, let me remind you that this appears to be the same crowd who, in short time, will clamor and shout in unison for His crucifixion. R.C. Sproul has observed “that the people’s interest in Jesus was based largely on curiosity and false expectations that would be dashed in no time.”[3] This is well said. When their curiosity gave way to disappointment (Jesus, after all, was not a clown who performed to impress people), they turned on Jesus and demanded His death.

Notice that they even took up a kind of praise:

¹³ So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying out, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel!”

A casual observer of this whole scene might conclude that these people were sincere worshipers. After all, they were using “church words.” “Hosanna!” meant “Save now!” If they meant this literally, they seemed to be calling for Jesus to immediately grant their wish of political liberation from the Romans: “Save us now! Free us now! Do it now! Start the revolt! Drive out the Romans! Save us now!” It is possible, though, that by the first century the word had simply come to mean a general cry of religious enthusiasm, much like our modern, “Amen!” or “Preach it, brother!”

Either way, the religious cry proved short-sighted and short-lived. It either revealed a kind of selfish, utilitarian approach to Jesus or it revealed the sheer power of the religious dynamics of a euphoric mob. But this is not sincere. It is not genuine praise built on a relationship. It is a show. It is, again, church language. But the cries of “Hosanna!” give ways to cries of “Crucify Him!” soon enough, and the actual hearts of the people are betrayed and revealed. Curiosity and religious chanting will soon give way to horrible cries for the death of Jesus.

This is always the end result for those who come to Jesus seeking a show, seeking a display, seeking a performance, is it not? Is it tragically oftentimes true that people mistake curiosity concerning Jesus for actual faith in Jesus. They mistake a general interest for genuine conviction.

In fact, I believe the power of curiosity and of religious euphoria is so strong that it can deceive people for years into thinking that they actually believe something. But religious excitement is not faith. Shouting “Hallelujah!” is not conviction.  Joining the mob is not the same as trusting in Christ.

These people are religious consumers: chasing the latest, greatest, hottest religious commodity. These people want to see the show, experience the experience, get a little bit of the excitement. This is the religion of the mob, of the crowd, of the excited congregation who likes to feel more than they like to believe, who likes to experience more than to trust.

Be honest with yourself now: have you confused curiosity with actual conviction? Are you a consumer, a spectator, an observer? Is it your desire that Christ would perform for you, would please you, would put on a good show? Do you turn from Christ when you find that He is not meeting your expectations, is not giving you what you want?

Beware of this crowd, church! Beware of this crowd!

Thankfully, we also see a crowd of those who actually believe:

¹⁷ The crowd that had been with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to bear witness.

This is the crowd who saw what Jesus had done and who could not stop talking about it. Like the first crowd, this crowd celebrates Jesus, but unlike the first crowd, this crowd knows why it is celebrating. They had witnessed, firsthand, the miracle of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. They had seen it and believed and could not stop speaking of it: The crowd…continued to bear witness.”

This is the crowd we wish we could fit in naturally, as believers. At our most faithful, this is us: the proclaiming and rejoicing crowd. This is the crowd that continues to testify and bear witness. They did not have to be asked to bear witness. They bore witness naturally out of the storehouse of their own amazing experience with Jesus.

People who have experienced something amazing never really have to be told to share it, do they?

I skipped my Senior year in high school. I was able to do so not because I was particularly smart but because my classes just worked out that way. I was able to take one class in the summer immediately following my Junior year and then begin high school that Fall. So I finished my Junior year and, three months later, found myself in college.

In the first semester of my Freshman year in college, I met Roni, my wife. I was, to put it mildly, smitten. But I just knew that this girl would never have anything to do with me. In fact, as a joke once I asked her to let me have a picture of her. I took that picture and mailed it to my buddies who were beginning their Senior year in high school. I mailed it with the note written under it: “Hope you boys are enjoying high school. College is great!” It was all great fun! One of my buddies told me that they passed the picture around and all decided that I had to be lying because they knew that no girl that looked like that would give me the time of day.

But I persisted. I used to stand on the grass outside of Roni’s dorm room and talk to her while she sat in the window. I’ll never forget the day when I was talking to her and she had to step into her room. When she left her roommate stuck her head out and said, “You know, if you were to ask her out she would go with you.”

Well, that was all I needed! I ran to a buddy of mine and told him he needed to loan me $20 and his car. There must have been an intensity about me because he did both and, that night, I took Roni to Applebees! I was so happy, but I was also hoping she would order something cheap enough that the $20 would cover the meal!

Well, that was all an amazing dream and the rest, as they say, is history. The next morning I was walking to class but I do not think my feet were touching the ground. I was in love! In fact, as I was walking into the building I held the door for a student and just blurted out, “You want to know something?” The student said, “What?” I said, “I’m in love!” The student said, “Huh?” I said, “Oh, not with you, but I’m in love!” Ha! It all sounds so silly now, but that really happened.

If you think about it, nobody who experiences something amazing has to be tricked into talking about it. We naturally speak of those experiences that have shaped our lives.

This should be the case with the people of God and their relationship with Jesus as well. We should say naturally and easily that we have a great God and that He has come to us in Christ Jesus. We should not have to be guilted into speaking the gospel!

This crowd knew what they had seen and they knew that there was something amazing about this Jesus and they could not stop speaking of it!

I ask you: are you in this crowd? Do you know this Jesus and do you testify to His greatness? I do hope so.

More often than not, however, I find myself somewhere in the middle. I think we find the disciples of Jesus somewhere in the middle. They had trusted in Jesus and they loved Him, but they were still trying to understand exactly who He was and what it was He is doing.

¹⁴ And Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it, just as it is written, ¹⁵ “Fear not, daughter of Zion; behold, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey’s colt!” ¹⁶ His disciples did not understand these things at first, but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written about him and had been done to him.

I do not know about you, but I find some comfort in these words: “His disciples did not understand these things at first…”

Have you experienced this? You love the Lord and you wish to follow Him but sometimes you struggle to grasp what it is He is doing?

Perhaps all of us know what this is. I do. It is interesting, though, that the disciples were not left in their confusion forever: “…but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written about him and had been done to him.”

I think we might call this “growth in retrospect.” It is a way of kind of backing into Christian growth. This is the crowd that believes but that has to grow into their belief. The disciples seem almost more contemplative at this point, more quiet and thoughtful. They are aware that something important, perhaps even something monumental, is happening, but they will not grasp the full import of these events until later.

Let me offer a word of encouragement to those of you in the believing but still trying to understand crowd: that’s ok. We do not always understand Jesus all of a sudden. The Christian life is a journey of experiences and then unpacking these experiences. Probably many of us fluctuate between this crowd and the crowd just before it, between euphoric belief and praise and contemplative confusion and efforts to grasp what God is doing in our lives and in the world.

Again, there is no shame in being in the contemplative crowd. There is no shame in needing some time to understand all that is happening. Do not be discouraged if others are applauding the Lord and you are still trying to unpack what has happened. In time, as they continued in their journeys, God revealed more truth to the disciples. He does the same with us as well.

There is another crowd here too. As you read our text you can see them brooding in the corner. I am speaking here of the Pharisees, Jesus’ opponents. The insights we are given into their minds as they observe all of this are telling and heartbreaking. Listen:

¹⁹ So the Pharisees said to one another, “You see that you are gaining nothing. Look, the world has gone after him.”

While Jesus is the focal point of the other crowds’ consideration, the Pharisees are looking at one another in dismay. They are unmasked in this verse and their tongues drip with poison. “You see,” they say to one another, “that you are gaining nothing.”

This is a telling admission. This is bitterness. This is resentment. This is rage.

The Pharisees are not winning the day. The momentum seems to have shifted to Jesus.

“You see that you are gaining nothing. Look, the world has gone after him.”

That last statement should be read with a hissed emphasis on the last word: “Look, the world has gone after him.”

This is jealousy. This is frustration.

Here is the crowd that resents the work of God in the world. Here is the crowd that seethes with bitterness at the advance of the gospel in the world. Here is the devil’s crowd. Here is the work of the enemy. The Pharisees boil with hatred both at Jesus and at the response of the crowd.

Of course, it is quite easy to depict these Pharisees as obviously repulsive, sinister figures. In most of the movies I have seen about the life of Jesus, the Pharisees are depicted as a hellish brood or a degenerate band of miscreants.

We like to demonize the Pharisees for two reasons. First, we demonize them because, quite frankly, many of them were demonic in their hatred of Jesus. There is much to genuinely loathe about these enemies of the faith. But I think we sometimes like to demonize them and caricature them in an effort to try to convince ourselves that their mindsets are totally different from ours and to try to convince ourselves that we ourselves have never and would never act with such godlessness.

But is this true? Is it true that we are totally free from the charge of the Pharisees?

Ask yourself this: have there not been times in our lives when we secretly resented some work of God? Have you never deep down resented that God blessed that person you despise or that God was changing that person that you would like to keep as an enemy?

I am not saying that this is necessarily the case. I am saying, however, that we must consider the terrifying possibility that we ourselves, at times, have been a part of this crowd as well. After all, it is just possible that we have found ourselves somewhere along the way standing in the corner, silently resenting some work of God.

Let us be careful, church. Let us be very careful.

Can I ask you: where are you in this story? In what crowd do you find yourself?

Are you in the crowd of religious enthusiasm?

Are you in the crowd of belief and praise?

Are you in the crowd of the believing but still trying to get it disciples?

Are you in the crowd of the resenting Pharisees?

Where do you stand? Where do you stand with Jesus?

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