Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts

Saturday, 27 December 2008

Doctor Who, feminism and Jesus

After the awful Doctor Who Christmas special last year, we were relieved at my in-laws' house that this year's episode was significantly better. The plot was fun, there was plenty of snow and you got the sense that Doctor Who is perhaps the 21st Century equivalent of the pantomime.

I couldn't help noticing, though, that there was more of a politics to the episode than some. The combination of it being Christmastime and these politics had interesting things to say about Christianity, Jesus and feminism.

There were several mentions of and allusions to Jesus throughout the episode. At the grave side of one of the workhouse owner, a vicar rehearsed burial liturgy, surrounded by a group of men. There was a strong link of Jesus (and Christianity) with patriarchy. The villainess, Miss Hartigan, who had worked in one of the workhouses for many years, ended up in partnership with the Cybermen in reaction to the evils that she witnessed as a result of such patriarchy (indeed, this was portrayed as her only escape!). She represented herself as a new suffragette-style hero(ine) that came into the world at Christmas - only now not one that would oppress women. She even used the words, 'Behold, I have risen'. Miss Hartigan was set up as a kind of Christ figure; the implication throughout being that Christianity (even Jesus?) is misogynistic and oppressive.

In the end, however, the Doctor seemed to identify the problem with Miss Hartigan's plans: her ideals, too, were shown to be oppressive. In compassion, the Doctor offered to send Miss Hartigan and her Cybermen to another planet, where they wouldn't need to 'convert' anyone (another backward slap at Christianity?). However, once Miss Hartigan's eyes were 'opened', the horror of her evil meta-narrative convicted her and she imploded.

In the end, perhaps the episode was a critique of patriarchy and feminism. Feminism that become an inflexible meta-narrative is to be rejected as it threatens to become an evil ,oppressive (and Christianity-like) system; yet the tragedy portrayed by the episode is that a real heroine (a character called Rosita, who helps many children to be saved) ends the epsiode merely as a nanny. We're forced to ask... is this right? Is it right that a heroic, bright woman can rise only to this position in a Christianity-influenced (Victorian) patriarchy?

An interesting theme. I wonder what the writers would make of Jesus' encounters with women in the Gospels?

Thursday, 20 November 2008

A better covenant (Hebrews 8)

I arrived at Hebrews 8 today in supervision time with the Relay Workers. It's another chapter that shows the folly of legalism when compared with the utter supremacy of Jesus' sacrifice and all that it guarantees.

Covenants are legal agreements between two parties, and covenants between God and humans feature significantly in Scripture. Some of the covenants that God makes with humans are unilateral - in other words, they can't be broken by humans. This includes the covenant that God makes with Abram where he promises to give a land and descendants to him.

Other covenants have an element of performance built into them. The most significant of these is the covenant that God makes with the nation of Israel at Sinai. Although the heart of this covenant is faith, covenant blessings and covenant curses are given to Israel dependent on the extent to which they humbly submit to the LORD as their God (see Deuteronomy 28 and 30).

The sad story of the Old Testament is that Israel - themselves, remember, a mirror of humanity - failed to keep the covenant. Indeed, they ended up in exile because of this. And so Jeremiah (31:31-34) foresaw a new covenant - like the Sinai covenant, one that brought the possibility of blessing - but that was unilateral. Indeed, the very things that caused Israel to abandon their blessings - their lack of desire to keep the law, and the way that this showed itself in sin - are those things that are addressed in the new covenant: the law will be internalised, and sin will be forgotten forever.

The writer to the Hebrews was writing to a group of Jewish Christians who felt under pressure to abandon Christianity, keep making the Levitical sacrifices and return to Judaism. Perhaps they considered it necessary to keep making these sacrifices so that they would experience covenantal blessings. But Hebrews 8 shows that vast supremacy of the new covenant: what people hoped for through performance in the old covenant, Jesus has guaranteed through his sacrifice, resurrection and the giving of the Spirit. Christ's sacrifice for us and righteousness imputed to us guarantees our blessing forever (and so led Paul to write Ephesians 1:3).

As we reflected on Hebrews 8 earlier, we spoke of how the human heart causes us to want to write another covenant with God (where our blessing is based on legalism and performance). How ridiculous when Christ has guaranteed our blessings forever! How much better to glory in what has already been won and given to us!

Sunday, 9 November 2008

For Remembrance Sunday

On Remembrance Sunday, I was reminded of a haunting poem by First World War poet Wilfred Owen, A Soldier's Dream:



I dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears;
And caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts;
And buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts;
And rusted every bayonet with His tears.

And there were no more bombs, of ours or Theirs,
Not even an old flint-lock, not even a pikel.
But God was vexed, and gave all power to Michael;
And when I woke he'd seen to our repairs.
Today I heard again that almost 20,000 British soldiers alone died in the Battle of the Somme. It almost drove me to tears thinking of a number equivalent to the entire student population of the two Lancaster universities lost in battle. I can almost imagine the cries of pain from the heart of God as humanity tears itself apart; longing for the day when evil is silenced and justice has the last word in the Universe. This day will come. The Bible looks forward to a time when war will - at last - end:
They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation,neither shall they learn war any more. (Isaiah 2:4)

Friday, 7 November 2008

Our priest forever (Hebrews 7)

The Hebrew Christians were under extreme pressure to recant their faith in Jesus Christ. Christianity was, at this time, viewed by at least some within orthodox Judaism as a sect. Faith in Jesus seemed to ride roughshod over the Old Testament, didn't it? After all, what of the Levitical priesthood and sacrifices?

Hebrews 7 is the beginning of an answer to this objection.

1. There is a model of priesthood in the Old Testament other than the Levitical model
The writer's first part of an answer points his readers to Genesis 14 and the enigmatic passage about the priest-king Melchizedek. After a military victory, Abram tithes and gives away 10% of his plunder to Melchizedek. Unlike many other OT characters, nothing is said about Melchizedek's origins or what happened afterward. But the fact that even the great patriarch Abram tithed to a priest 'external' to Israel shows that priesthood can operate outside of the Levitical system. Significantly, this priesthood pre-dates the institution of the Levitical model.

2. A priest-king in the order of Melchizedek was prophesied after the institution of the Levitical model
The writer then points his readers to Psalm 110. This was written by David, when the Levitical priesthood had already been established for several hundred years. David prophesies an all-conquering king (who seems to be divine), who himself will be a priest in the order of Melchizedek.

3. God has sworn under oath that this new king will be a priest forever
In the third stage of his argument, the writer points to the language of oath in Psalm 110: 'The LORD has sworn and will not change his mind...'. In other words, the priesthood of the Messianic king will last forever. Presumably this means that his priesthood will be utterly effective.

Jesus, of course, applied Psalm 110 to himself (Mark 12:35-37). And so, although he was not from the tribe of Levi, he was a priest: the promised priest in the order of Melchizedek. Unlike the Levitical priests, he has risen, never again to die. And, therefore, he is able to save completely those who trust him: he sacrificed for sins (past, present and future) once for all when he offered himself.

In 21st Century Britain, we might not feel tempted to return to the Levitical sacrifices. However, we can sometimes wonder (explicitly or implicitly) whether Jesus really is enough. Such questioning can lead to ugly legalism. Hebrews 7 confidently announces the complete sufficiency of Jesus' priesthood and sacrifice. His resurrection declares it. The oath of God promises it (it's not as if God will announce at judgement that he's changed the rules of how we can get right with him). I can rest complete assured in Jesus, my priest forever who won't let me down.

Sunday, 19 October 2008

Ronald Kernaghan on Mark 13

I've been working through Mark's Gospel in my own personal Bible study over the past couple of months. Mark 13 is a difficult chapter (although I think it's easier when you consider that essentially its describing something of the nature of Jesus' kingdom), but I think Ronald Kernaghan's commentary has helped me to unpick it.

Here's a fascinating thing the commentary showed me, unpacking these verses:

Mark 13:26-27: 'At that time men will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory. And he will send his angels [or 'messengers'] and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of the heavens.'
Mark 14:61-62: 'Again the high priest asked him, "Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?" "I am," said Jesus. "And you [i.e. the Sanhedrin] will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven."'

Here's Kernaghan's commentary:

'Mark 14:62 extends the imagery of 13:26 so that the members of the Sanhedrin are told not only that they would see the Son of Man coming with the clouds, but also that they would see him seated at the right hand of God. The picture of Jesus' sitting at God's right hand recalls the concluding condemnation of the leaders of Jerusalem (12:35-37) in which Jesus quoted from Psalm 110:1: 'The Lord said to my Lord: "Sit at my right hand until I put your enemies under your feet."' That image of judgement and condemnation does not appear explicitly in Mark 13, but it is consistent with the central theme of this prophecy - the destruction of the temple. Indeed, since Jesus entered Jerusalem in 11:11 his condemnation of the temple has been the catalyst for every other event. The best answer then to the question of what they would see is the destruction of the temple. That event would be the corollary of the Son of Man's exaltation. The exaltation of the Son of Man to heaven would be an event that the chief priests, elders and scribes could not actually see because it would take place before the throne of God. The exaltation of the Son of Man, however, would also mean the destruction of the temple. In its destruction, they would see the vindication of the Son of Man.'
I find this very helpful. It sheds real light on the nature of Jesus' kingdom. Jesus has been demonstrating throughout Mark's Gospel that his kingdom isn't what the disciples were expecting. It comes partially, as the word is proclaimed, rather than at once (see Mark 4). Now Jesus shows that, following judgement on Jerusalem, and as he takes his seat before the Ancient of Days (which doesn't refer to this second coming - see Daniel 7:13), his kingdom still does not come immediately in its fullness. The preaching of the gospel to the whole world will be accomplished, not through temple activity but through the Son of Man's own agents in the world. There is a period where his angels (or messengers) gather the elect before his return. His kingdom continues to grow today (even through the distribution of copies of Mark's Gospel in the FREE Gospel Project), before its consummation at his return.

Wednesday, 1 October 2008

The word of God is living and active...

So along with, I guess, many people, until yesterday I'd thought that Hebrews 4:12-13 were a couple of verses I could add to my systematic theology on the nature of Scripture.

The verses are these:

For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. Nothing in all creation is hidden from God's sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account.
Many of us will probably have sat in Christian meetings when these verses were quoted about Scripture; maybe positively, pointing to the incredible power of Scripture when sharpened by the Spirit. And that, of course, is true. But it is unfair to the context of Hebrews 1-4.

What the writer has been demonstrating is that Jesus is the supreme revelation of God (superseding the Old Testament, as I wrote about here). At the beginning of chapter 3, the writer began to apply this. Jesus is like Moses (in that through both clear revelations of God were made), but Jesus' revelation is qualitatively greater than that of Moses. He isn't just a servant of God - he is God himself. Therefore, to ignore Jesus is to ignore God himself.

Ignoring Jesus comes at great cost. If, as chapter 3 puts it, ignoring God's revelation coming through Moses brought with it death in the desert, ignoring God's even clearer revelation through his Son is a fearful thing. Ignoring God's word - supremely the living Word - is very dangerous. It is to ignore God himself. To do so is to reject the opportunity of entering what Hebrews calls God's 'rest' (very similar to 'life' in John's Gospel), life as it was created to be.

How we respond to God's word, then - in particular, how we respond to God's Word, Jesus, is crucial. All this reminds me of what God the Father says at the Transfiguration. Peter wants to ignore Jesus when he says he must suffer and die, but God the Father says, "No! This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!" To listen to Jesus, supremely, is to listen to his diagnosis on our hearts and to trust that only his cross can bring us to God.

And that is what Hebrews 4:12-13 is about. Rejecting God's word has always carried death. And so Hebrews 4:12-13 is only about listening to the written word, Scripture, in as far as it is saying that we should listen to the living Word, Jesus. We ignore him at our peril. We cannot ignore Christ and simultaneously think that we are treating God rightly. In that respect, God's word carries life and death, as our response to Jesus carries life and death consequences.

Thursday, 18 September 2008

Why has God revealed himself as he has?

In the last few days, I've met up with and then been in contact with a friend who's doubting as as Christian. There are lots of big issues which he's wrestling through for the first time, but one of the big questions relates to the issue of God's revelation.

Why has he chosen to reveal himself as he has? Why hasn't he revealed himself in other 'clearer' forms, like a big message in the sky? If the Bible revelation of God today is mediated through Scripture, isn't that cold and rationalistic?

I think the key thing here is the nature of relationship that God wants with humans. If God wanted us merely to assent to his existence intellectually, then a big message in the sky might do. But for a personal relationship to be initiated, then surely another form of revelation is required. The nature of revelation must change for a certain relational form to follow. (A joke used to go round some of the students I work with that I proposed by text message. I didn't. But why would this be so scandalous? Because that form of revelation - that I wanted to marry Linda - needed to be made in a certain way in order to have a certain form of relationship with her).

In human relationships, we get to know others by actively relating to them. We spend time with, we see what makes them tick, we talk to them. This is necessary to have a personal relationship with them. In the same way, we come to know God through relating to him. He designed it in this way. Just as it wouldn't be possible for a person to comprehend the reality of their parents' love for them apart from a personal relationship with them, so we come to know God and his love in the same way.

And so, the knowledge that God wants us to have isn't just knowing that he is exists as an object - but rather that we might know him as the supreme person, our sustainer and redeemer, Lord of all - even over each of us. In short, God wants us to know him as he really is. And so his form of revelation is personal; designed to reveal his character and to bring us into the sort of relationship with Jesus whereby he is the proper head of our family. He calls us to enter and enjoy a loving relationship with himself.

If that's the case, then, how does the Bible fit in? Scripture presents Jesus to us, as he really is. Jesus himself is the revelation of the Father, and through the Spirit, Scripture renders the authentic Jesus. The Bible is like no other book, in that the Spirit of the co-author and the subject of the book is with us by his Spirit. And so, far from being intellectual, Scripture draws us to the person of Jesus - showing us what he is really like, his character, his mind, his trustworthiness - and calling us to worship him. That is what it means to experience life (John 17:3), both now and in the age to come.

Wednesday, 2 April 2008

Revisiting the persistent widow and the unjust judge

As I said in a recent post, I've been thinking a great deal recently about the parables of Jesus. One of them that has puzzled me in the past has puzzled me again as I've revisited it. Now I think I'm getting a bit closer to the nub of this uncomfortable parable.

The parable in question concerns the persistent widow and the unjust judge, which is recorded in Luke 18:1-8. What got me thinking about this parable again recently was the repetition of the word 'justice':

Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up. He said: "In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared about men. And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, 'Grant me justice against my adversary.'

"For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, 'Even though I don't fear God or care about men, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice, so that she won't eventually wear me out with her coming!'"

And the Lord said, "Listen to what the unjust judge says. And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?"

This made me think that there's more to the parable than immediately meets the eye. The other thing that I'd never really thought about before was the context. Jesus has been speaking about his return in Chapter 17 - and then returns to that theme in the final sentence of the parable. The parable starts with the word 'then' - making the link between chapters 17 and 18 solid. And so it seems to me that we should think of this parable as an encouragement to the disciples who may be undergoing struggles in the period before Jesus' return not to give up hope, but to pray and remain faithful to Jesus.

The unjust judge

On to the parable itself, which centres around the unjust judge. That the judge neither fears God or cares about men is detail which is repeated. Both of these would have been reasons to have helped the widow - it is commanded by OT Law, and compassion would have demanded it. In other words, the judge doesn't respect the needs of the poor and oppressed. Though Jesus isn't explicit, there was probably a reason that the judge wouldn't give the widow justice. Perhaps she couldn't afford to bribe him. In other words, the judge was arrogant and unjust, a powerful man facing down one of the weakest members of society.

The persistent widow

We don't know how the widow was being cheated. We do know that the judge wasn't inclined to help her. We also know that she was persistent. She came many times and implored the judge to rule for her. If she had kept quiet, perhaps things would have died down. But since she kept on demanding justice, time after time, the judge had no choice but to do something. Whatever he had been paid wasn't worth the hassle she was causing. He decided to grant her what she was due just to get rid of her.

The meaning of the parable

Now for the unjust judge and the widow, Jesus substitutes God and his 'chosen ones' - his people. It's not that God is like the unjust judge - rather, it's the opposite case. In fact, every detail that we're given about the unjust judge contrasts with what we know about God from the rest of the Bible. Jesus' argument is from the lesser to the greater: if an unjust, selfish judge will see that justice is done in response to persistent requests, how much more will the just God bring justice to the people he loves who pray constantly for help. I think that it's this emphasis on justice which is often missed when reading this passage.

Jesus evidently isn't saying that praying to God will lead to a temporal relief from injustice. Poor and oppressed Christians around the world are still calling out for relief and, for the most part, don't seem to be appreciably closer to a world of justice and compassion than they were when Jesus told the parable. If you read the parable as just an encouragement to prayer, there will always seem to be some lack of evidence that such prayer really makes a difference.

This is where the context of Chapter 17 (and Jesus' return) comes in. From the very earliest times, Jesus' followers hung on the promise that he would return. Only that made sense of 'losing life' (and all of the persecutions that brings) in order to experience 'true life'. Just like today, the promise of Jesus' return under-girded and overarched their lives. Without Jesus' return, Christianity makes no sense. And so, particularly in moments of injustice, we long for Jesus' return and for the way in which he will right wrongs. Sometimes the wait is particularly painful. Like the believers in the book of Revelation, sometimes we cry, "How long, Lord?" Sometimes it seems that God will never answer our cries for justice. Sometimes it feels like God is just putting us off.

But Jesus' answer is firm: God will see that his people will receive justice - and quickly. God's people will not suffer for a moment too long. When Jesus returns, it will be at the right time. Not our time or our preference, but God's, but the right time.

The challenge

Jesus' return is sure - but his question for us comes in the last sentence.

"However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?" In other words, will we still be disciples of Jesus, even though it's cost us in the period waiting for his return? Or will he find us having given up, having capitulated to despair? When the answer to the prayers we have prayed and prayed and prayed finally comes, how will we be found? Or will we have turned instead to resentment or bitterness towards God? How will the coming of the answer of your prayers find you?

Jesus has told a parable of a persistence widow - very weak in the world's estimation - who has won a victory because she didn't give up hope. She didn't give up her plea and finally won the day, despite having the odds overwhelmingly stacked against her. And so I think the point is this: we sometimes become so worn down and discouraged by the injustices of our lives and the hardships that come through being Christians that we stop praying, stop hoping and ultimately stop expecting Jesus to return.

But the reminder of the character of God (so unlike the unjust judge), his care for his people and the surety of his promises should lead us to prayerfully and confidently commit ourselves to him - even when facing injustice. The Judge of the world is fair, he is loving, he is in control - and he will return.

And perhaps the other challenge for us in the West concerns our own godliness. We see in this parable that God cares passionately for the justice of his people. Walking in relationship with God means loving the things he loves and hating the things he hates. Perhaps as part of our own godliness, we need to be more concerned about the plight of Christians around the world who are experiencing horrific injustice. People like the widow from Bangladesh that is pictured here - whose husbands have been murdered for their devotion to Christ.

It's a word, at least, to me.

http://www.barnabasfund.org/
http://www.opendoorsuk.org/

Saturday, 29 March 2008

The story of the kingdom

Recently I've been devotionally using Terry Johnson's helpful book, The Parables of Jesus.

One of the things that I've been taught as I've studied these parables is to be careful to look at the context into which they are spoken. They were never spoken into a vacuum. Sometimes the immediate context is given; other times, one needs to work it out.

This has made me think about the context into which Jesus speaks the parables of Matthew 13 (and their equivalents in Mark 4 and Luke 8). I'd never really thought about the context of these parables. But now I think they are addressing false ideas of the Messiah and the kingdom that were about in the 1st Century.

The disciples expected the kingdom to come through a military victory; Jesus says that the kingdom comes through responding rightly to the word of God. The disciples expected the kingdom to inaugurate a radical new era; Jesus says that the kingdom really has come but will coexist with evil until judgement comes. The disciples expected the kingdom to be irrepressible; Jesus says that the kingdom will be opposed but will grow anyway. The disciples expected the kingdom to arrive with fanfare and victory; Jesus says that the kingdom has tiny beginnings and is established, miraclously but normally through gradual growth. The disciples expected to experience immediate victory in the kingdom; Jesus says that it will require sacrifice - but that it is worth infinitely more than the cost of discipleship. Indeed, entering the kingdom is worth it - whatever the cost.

These lessons of the kingdom were instructive not only for the disciples, but also for us. I've been particularly encouraged by the way in which Jesus says that the kingdom grows. It's true that the kingdom sometimes grows spectacularly - but more often it grows slowly and gradually as individuals accept Jesus' Lordship over their lives.

Monday, 4 February 2008

To exist or not to exist

Those of us engaged in campus evangelism will be well-used to the argument that Jesus either didn't exist or that the gospel accounts exaggerate Jesus' actions and claims.

Amazingly, however, this survey by UKGold TV shows that it's not just Jesus that people are confused about! 65% of Britons think that King Arthur existed and 58% believe that Sherlock Holmes really lived. Perhaps even more bemusingly, 47% of Britons think Richard the Lionheart didn't exist, whilst nearly a quarter of those surveyed thought that Winston Churchill didn't exist - despite being voted just a few years ago Greatest Briton in a BBC poll.

Those conducting the study noted a marked change in how people acquire their historical knowledge. Over three quarters of the nation (77%) admitted to no longer reading history books, or watching historical programmes on television (61%). One in eight (15%) admitted they rely solely on the history that they learnt at school. A sad state of affairs when one concludes that this probably means that the vast majority of people's view of the historical Jesus roots in opinions formed at junior school...

Thursday, 29 November 2007

Deal or no deal?



Deal or No Deal

Been asked to give a talk at a 'Deal or No Deal' related evangelistic event tonight at one of the small groups at Lancaster University. Here's what I came up with....

First – a bit of ‘Deal or No Deal’ trivia thanks to Wikipedia. Did you know that in the UK version, there’s still only been one winner of the £250,000 top prize – someone by the name of Laura Preece, who won in January of this year. And did you know that 77 countries in the world now have their own version of ‘Deal or No Deal’, the legendary John Fashanu presenting the Nigerian version?

What makes ‘Deal or No Deal’ such good viewing? Why is it such compulsive to watch?

Well, I think above all what makes the format appealing is the fact that you never really know when your best offer has come. It’s a game of chance and of judgement. And so the contestant is forced to keep thinking: do I accept what I’ve been offered or do I soldier on and hope that I’m offered something better? And so the show captures the fear that we might get stuck with something that’s second-best and then end up regretting it.

I guess we’ve all known that feeling in other areas of life. You spend the whole morning traipsing around town looking for the best deal on, say, an mp3 player. Eventually you find an offer that seems to be good and you hand over your hard-earned cash, only later in the day to find the next model up for the same price in another shop. And you think, “Gutted! I’ve been had! And now I’m stuck with second-best and I’m regretting it!”

And I guess it’s possible that there’s a few people that have been invited along tonight that feel similarly about Christianity. You’ve been brought along by a friend who seems keen that you trust Jesus and that you live your life as a Christian. But you can’t help thinking something along the lines of this: “Well, if I decide to be a Christian and live my life trusting Jesus, will I end up regretting it? Will I end up dealing too early and find myself committed to something that’s not really any different from what I already have, before I find something better comes along?”

Well if you are thinking at all like this, then you might be surprised to know that you’re not the first to think it. In fact, in one of his letters that appears in the Bible, written to one of the earliest churches, the Bible writer Paul spends time explaining why if you trust Jesus, you’ll never find yourself losing out. Let’s read together what we wrote:

15Christ is the visible image of the invisible God. He existed before anything was created and is supreme over all creation, 16for through him God created everything in the heavenly realms and on earth. He made the things we can see and the things we can’t see – such as thrones, kingdoms, rulers, and authorities in the unseen world. Everything was created through him and for him. 17He existed before anything else, and he holds all creation together. 18Christ is also the head of the church, which is his body. He is the beginning, supreme over all who rise from the dead. So he is first in everything. 19For God in all his fullness was pleased to live in Christ, 20and through him God reconciled everything to himself. He made peace with everything in heaven and on earth by means of Christ’s blood on the cross. 21This includes you who were once far away from God. You were his enemies, separated from him by your evil thoughts and actions. 22Yet now he has reconciled you to himself through the death of Christ in his physical body. As a result, he has brought you into his own presence, and you are holy and blameless as you stand before him without a single fault.

There’s plenty that could be said about this passage – it’s one of the most incredible descriptions of Jesus and what it means to follow him in the whole of the Bible. But I just want to pick out two things in particular from this passage that show that if you are following Jesus, you will never have dealt too early.

The first point is this: if you have Jesus, you can’t know God any better. Have a look at verses 15 and 16: ‘Christ is the visible image of the invisible God. He existed before anything was created.’ In other words, Paul is making a massive claim. He’s saying that the one true God, the God of the Universe, has made himself known in the person of Jesus. And look down at verse 19: ‘For God in all his fullness was pleased to live in Christ.’ It’s not that there are elements of God that you can see in Jesus. No – in Jesus, the God of the Universe, the Creator, has made himself known. And so it’s not that if you follow Jesus you’ve dealt too early in following God. There’s no way that you can know God any better outside of Jesus.

People sometimes say to me: ‘Why doesn’t God make himself known? If he wants us to bother with him, you’d think he’d bother with us and make himself known!’ Well, Paul’s claim is that it is just a quirk of history and geography that you weren’t born in Palestine two thousand years ago. If you had been, you could have seen the God of the Universe walking down the dusty streets. You have spoken with him. You could have touched him.

And notice, it’s not that Jesus just brings a message from God. It’s not as though God had a message to get out and wondered: “Hmm – a message to get out to people on earth. Big letters in the sky or come in human form?” No! Jesus hasn’t just come to bring a message, but as a human, he’s come to reveal God. A message in the sky would never show us what God was really like – his character, his passions, his heartbeat. But in Jesus, that’s exactly what we see. Which means, if you have Jesus, you can’t know God any better.

The second point that Paul is making from this passage is this: if you have Jesus, your very deepest needs are met. Let’s pick out some of the words that describe what Jesus has achieved: reconciliation, peace, words which imply that there’s been conflict and broken relationships. But notice who the conflict is between: it’s between God and us. In fact, one of the surprises of this passage is that people are described as being God’s enemies, separated from him by our evil thoughts and actions. And we say, “Hold on! I’m no Satanist! I’ve not treated God like that!” But the story of the Bible is that this is precisely how we’ve treated God. Sure, we may not have actually articulated like this, but through the way we lived we’ve ruled God out. We’ve said to the God of the Universe, “This far in my life – but no further.” There comes a point where we think that we have the right to run our lives, and so we cross God out and stick two fingers up at him. And so we’re his enemies – taking all of his good gifts, dependent on him for our very breath, but, in the name of freedom, not wanting him to be part of our lives at all.

Well, perhaps you’re thinking, “Well maybe this is true – but can’t I just start living out in friendship with God again?” And here’s the nub of the passage. Paul is saying: as you are, you can’t. You can’t. See, in ruling God out and in living our own way, we’ve ruined ourselves and we’ve ruined other people. Think of the times that you’ve been hurt by the gossip and lies of others, remember how much it hurt – and then we begin to see the sort of hurt that we’ve caused in the lives of others as we’ve done just the same. And to a God who is a God of love, who is perfectly fair, justice must be done. Each of us matters to him, he loves us, justice must be done. Which means that, as we are, none of us can just saunter into a friendship with a perfect God.

And so here’s the wonderful news of this passage. Here’s why Christians can look at Jesus and know that our very deepest needs have been met. Look at verse 20: through Jesus, God has reconciled everything to himself. How? By means of Christ’s blood on the cross. The idea is this: Jesus – himself God in human form – willingly went to the cross on our behalf and took the punishment that we deserved. Why? So that we can be reconciled to God. So that we can be brought back into the life for which we were creator, life with the Creator himself. Look at how verse 22 puts it: ‘Yet now he has reconciled you to himself through the death of Christ in his physical body. As a result, he has brought you into his own presence, and you are holy and blameless as you stand before him without a single fault.’ Through Jesus, all those who trust him are considered holy (perfect), blameless (there’s nothing that can be pinned on us), and we stand before God without a single fault. Not because we’re wonderful, but because Jesus has come to meet our deepest needs at the cross.

And so, for a Christian, if we are trusting Jesus, then we can know that our very deepest needs have been met, in order to bring us back to life for which we were created. Let me tell you, it’s a wonderful thing to be able to wake up in the morning, to know why I am here, to know what makes me ‘me’. And that comes because as a creature, I know the Creator. It’s a wonderful thing to know forgiveness, to know that – despite my faults and my failings – I can approach the God of the Universe in friendship. It’s a wonderful thing to know that, because of Jesus, my eternal life has already started. It’s a wonderful thing to be able to look back to the objective reality of the cross of Christ, and to know that I am forgiven, even when I fail now. And it’s wonderful thing to have the hope of eternity – to look forward to the new creation, a place of solid joys and lasting pleasures where I will live out the relationship with my Creator in all it’s fullness. It’s a wonderful thing to have, as the Bible puts it, been invited to God’s wedding feast where I will see him face to face.

It’s these two facts - that if you have Jesus, you can’t know God any better and your very deepest needs are met that convinced Paul that there was no better way of living life. It’s these facts that have convinced the Christians here to keep following Jesus, even when it’s tough and costly. It’s these facts that prompted the Christians to invite you here tonight if you’re not a Christian. And it’s these facts that mean we’ll never look back at our lives and think, “Rubbish – I dealt too early.”

Saturday, 13 October 2007

"Greater things than these"

I got slightly flummoxed (great word, huh?) following a question at the first Bitesize session at the University of Cumbria Christian Union (Lancaster campus). The question ran something like this, 'Jesus calmed the storm with a word, raised the dead and fed 5000 people with a packed lunch - and yet he said that we'd do greater things than these. How do we make sense of this?'

I've had a thought about this over the past couple of days and this is my thinking so far.

The verse that the questioner was alluding to is John 14:12, where Jesus says: "I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father."

Some points to make:

1. The context of this verse within John's Gospel. In John 13-17, Jesus is teaching within the light of his immiment death on the cross, resurrection and ascension into heaven (see especially 13:1 and 14:1-4). Although this will be sad for the disciples, Jesus will have achieved the very reason he was sent into the world by the Father. Indeed, Jesus' return to the Father will be good, as the new age of the Spirit surpasses the time of Jesus' own physical time on the earth.

2. The more immediate context of this verse follows Philip's statement in 14:8, where he asks Jesus to show the disciples the Father. Jesus' answer is staggering. He is the revelation of the Father (verses 9-10). Jesus' words and his miracles provide evidence that his claim to have been the revelation of the Father to be true.

From these observations we can make two points:

a. The 'greater things' will happen because Jesus is going to the Father i.e. presumably because, following Jesus' ascension, the Spirit will come to the disciples.

b. Jesus' teaching about the disciples' 'greater things' is in the context of his own teaching about people understanding his identity, as the revelation of God the Father.

Within the overall context of John's Gospel, then, it seems to me that the 'greater works' that Jesus is talking about is linked with teaching and doing things that reveal Jesus to be the revelation of the Father.

As to what these greater works are, I think both history and theology would show that these things can't be 'greater' than some of the miracles that Jesus performed. They were unsurpassable and part of his Messianic identity. It appears far more likely that Jesus words applied temporally to the context in which he said them. Remember that these words occurred before the passion narrative and before his resurrection. The best 'fit' of what these words mean in the light of the evidence is that the disciples (and believers today) can point to Jesus' death and resurrection as the ultimate sign of his disclosure of the Father (the hour of his 'glory' in John's language) in the power of the Holy Spirit, thus seeing dead people regenerated.

I don't think that this interpretation of John 14:12 excludes the possibility that disciples of Jesus - both apostles then and Christians today - can't perform other miracles in Jesus' name. His name is powerful. I'm personally aware of a few examples of healing within friends, and even know one person who apparently raised another person that was clinically dead. However, the greatest miracle is still when people who are dead to God receive new life. Now we can point to Jesus' greatest work - his resurrection - as the greatest revelation of the person of the Father. And as people recognise Jesus for who he really is, he receives glory and brings glory to the Father above all other things. It's not that performing miracles in Jesus' name is bad - not at all! - but that these should always be with the ultimate aim of demonstrating Jesus' identity anyway.

Or as Colin Kruse puts it, 'The disciples' works were greater ... because they had the privilege of testifying by word and deed to the finished work of Christ, and the fuller coming of the kingdom that it ushered in. Jesus' earthly ministry prior to his death and resurrection foreshadowed these things.'

Friday, 29 June 2007

A puzzle

I'm currently putting together in my head a more substantial posting about Jesus and the kingdom, but here's a puzzle I've come across as I've been working through Matthew's Gospel - why the long section and great detail about the execution of John the Baptist (in 14:1-12)? How does this emphasis help Matthew's agenda in writing his gospel?

The question perhaps becomes more pointed when we bring Mark's account into play. In the 'tabloid gospel', where it seems space is rarely dedicated to details that are unimportant to the theological account of Jesus' life, death and resurrection, a relatively vast section is dedicated to the beheading of John the Baptist (6:14-29).

Here are a few thoughts that I've had, but I'm still puzzled and would like to hear what others think.

My first reflection was that (in Matthew's Gospel at least, and it's on this Gospel I'll focus), the account of John's beheading follows Jesus' rejection in Nazareth (see 13:53-58). Jesus is the 'prophet without honour in his home town'. John is another prophet who is rejected. I'd wondered whether this was an allusion drawn upon in parable of the tenants in 21:33-46. However I now think this can be ruled out because John's beheading is clearly by Gentiles, whereas the parable focuses on Jewish rejection.

I then wondered if this section links together the preceding chapters, which focus on the nature of the kingdom (especially chapter 13) in the face of increasing Jewish hostility to Jesus, and a section which perhaps focuses more on the effect of Jesus' mission on the Gentiles. The faith of the Canaanite woman (15:21-28) in the face of the Pharisees' legalistic emphasis on righteousness is noticeable and it's probable that the feeding of the four thousand (15:29-39) was in Gentile territory. Peter's confession of Jesus as Christ and Son of God is certainly in a Gentile town dedicated to Caesar, Caesarea Philippi. I still think that this idea still might have some merit.

My most recent thought is that the ministries of John the Baptist and Jesus are tightly linked in Matthew's Gospel. Clearly, Jesus is greater than John, but they have the same message - 'Repent for the kingdom of God is near' - in 3:2 and 4:17. Both are opposed by the Pharisees and the Sadducees. Now could it be that the pattern continuing? Is John's unjust execution at the hands of the Gentiles prefiguring Jesus' own similar death (20:19)? After all, whilst John had perhaps expected the Messianic kingdom to immediately be established, Jesus reminds him that although the kingdom is advancing, it will never come without opposition (see 11:11-13). Is this why Jesus' reaction to the news of John's execution is to withdraw by boat to a private place, where he can process this more and pray upon it as he reflects on his own future suffering and death?

As I say, this remains something of a puzzle, and I'd love to hear other thoughts, as I'm keen to understand more of Matthew's mind and to discover more about the Christ I worship and follow.

Saturday, 19 May 2007

Isaiah on Jesus the Suffering Servant (Isaiah 52:13-53:12)

Below appears the extended text of a talk I prepared for Lancaster University Christian Union as part of their series, 'The Gospel According to Isaiah'. In the end I cut the text down and so below is the 'unedited cut'! I was given the title 'Isaiah on Jesus the Suffering Servant' for Isaiah 52:13-53:12. I loved preparing the talk and learned loads myself too. What an amazing Saviour we have and how worthy of glory he is!



Since chapter 40 of his prophecy, Isaiah has been offering a word of hope to the people of
Israel in exile. It begins, ‘Comfort, comfort my people’. After judgement comes comfort. And the comfort that God has spoken about is a return from exile, a return to Jerusalem from Babylon for his people. Their judgement is over. Turn to Isaiah 48:20-21, where this is described: ‘Leave Babylon, flee from the Babylonians! Announce this with shouts of joy and proclaim it. Send it out to the ends of the earth; say, ‘The LORD has redeemed his servant Jacob.’ They did not thirst when he led them through the deserts; he made water flow for them from the rock; he split the rock and water gushed out.’ The people of Judah can celebrate because they will not be abandoned forever – the LORD will redeem his people and bring them home to Jerusalem under the Persian king Cyrus, and that is great news!

However, a problem remains. It was human sin – rebellion and wickedness against God – that caused the people to go into exile in the first place. God has dealt with the result of this problem – he promises to bring them from exile, but the problem of human sin remains. And so verse 22 is a tantalising prophecy: ‘“There is no peace,” says the LORD, “for the wicked.”’ Hand in hand with praise for the greatness of the LORD is a contrast: the destined misery for the wicked. And of course this is not something that can be dealt with merely by geography. There were wicked people in the people of Judah before exile, in exile and when they came back from exile. And so 48:22 shows that God has not finished yet.

In other words, Isaiah’s prophecy from Chapter 40 onwards that there is good news of deliverance is bigger than a return home from captivity under Cyrus from Babylon. God has something greater in mind. There’s a greater ultimate deliverance that the LORD will bring. And he will bring it through a mysterious character known only as his Servant. You saw him introduced last week.

There are several prophecies about the work of the Servant in the book of Isaiah. But today’s passage is both the most famous and the most graphic about what the Servant will achieve. What we will see is that the Servant’s actions illustrate God’s greatest desires and show how God will ultimately fulfil his people’s greatest need.

The passage is split into five stanzas, and we’ll look at these in turn as we consider more about what God is achieving through the actions of his Servant.

52:13-15: The Servant’s suffering makes him worthy of great exaltation

In the first stanza, then, we read that the Servant’s suffering makes him worthy of great exaltation. Let’s re-read 52:13-15:

See, my servant will act wisely; he will be raised and lifted up and highly exalted. Just as there were many who were appalled at him - his appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any man and his form marred beyond human likeness - so will he sprinkle many nations, and kings will shut their mouths because of him. For what they were not told, they will see, and what they have not heard, they will understand.

The first thing that we learn from this passage is that God’s Servant will be exalted or, to be specific, ‘raised, lifted up and exalted’. This in itself is an incredible thing to claim, because language speaking of exaltation has already been used in the book of Isaiah. Do you remember that during the first week of term, we looked at Isaiah 6, Isaiah’s vision of God? And this is how that vision opens: ‘In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted.’ And now this language of exaltation is used to describe God’s Servant. He will be exalted. In other words, God’s Servant is to become nothing less in glory than God.

That’s the first shock of this passage. God’s Servant will somehow be worthy of the same level of glory that the God of the Universe deserves. Think of the glory that he deserves: the one on whom we depend for our every breath! And yet the Servant will be worthy of the same level of glory.

Perhaps more surprising still is verse 14. All of us will be familiar with the ‘before and after’ photos that advertisers use. The ‘before’ picture features a large, overweight person or a bald man or a spotty face. The ‘after’ picture has someone who has lost stones of weight, no longer sullen-looking but happy and trim, or a full head of hair, or perfectly smooth skin. And if the ‘after’ picture of God’s Servant is something more glorious and amazing than anything that we can begin to contemplate, the ‘before’ picture of the Servant is at the other extreme. Look at sorts of words used in verse 14: appalled, disfigured, marred beyond human likeness. Somehow, the abuse and humiliation of God’s Servant will be such that – verse 15 – kings will shut their mouths because of him. In the ancient world, kings were supremely powerful and what they said happened, and yet through the Servant’s suffering, they will be completely overwhelmed by his glory.

Sometimes people receive glory and admiration for their suffering. The famous picture of a blood-drenched Terry Butcher will be familiar to some of you. He played on for England despite incredible personal pain from a head wound for England’s eventual victory a few years ago. More seriously, personal achievements against the odds in the face of illness or disease are celebrated in our media. But what sort of suffering by an individual could make them worthy of the same level of glory as the God of the Universe? For this we need to read on in the poem.

53:1-3: The Servant will be utterly despised by other humans

But before we get to unravelling how the Servant’s suffering leads to him being worthy of such great glory, we need to examine how Isaiah prophesies that things will appear at face value. Far from being considered worthy of great glory, the Servant will be utterly despised. Let’s re-read 53:1-3:

Who has believed our message and to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed? He grew up like a tender shoot, a like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.

‘Who would believe it?!’ That’s what verse 1 is saying. The arm of the LORD revealed like this! We would have never have dreamt that the arm of the LORD – God’s power and glory – would have been revealed in such a way as will be revealed through his Servant, says Isaiah. We would never dream that God’s power would be shown in such weakness. And Isaiah prophesies that when the Servant arrives, he will not look worthy of such glory.

And so Isaiah prophesies that the Servant will be like a ‘tender shoot’, something vulnerable to wind and birds and insects. Isaiah’s prophecy speaks of how the Servant will suffer right from the beginning of his life, suffering just like a root in dry ground. And far from appearing worthy of glory, when the Servant appears, he won’t be conspicuous because of his beauty or majesty. The Servant won’t be good looking, says Isaiah. He won’t have any majesty to attract us to him, in the way that we are magically attracted to the Royal Family, wanting to know all about them. The Servant – well, he will be plain, says Isaiah. He’s the sort of person that, if he walked into the room now, he’d turn no heads through being impressive.

And, says Isaiah, the glory that will rightly belong to the Servant will be surprising as it’s not as if he’ll be everybody’s favourite person. In fact, in verse 3 Isaiah prophesies twice that the Servant will be despised. People will go out of their way to avoid the Servant. He will be completely shunned.

So let’s summarise what we’ve seen so far. Firstly, says Isaiah, a Servant, an individual, will be sent by God and because of his actions will be worthy of the same glory as the God of the Universe. And this will surprise everyone because the Servant is, well, distinctly un-glorious. He’ll be weak and he’ll suffer and he’ll be despised by pretty much everyone. And so, says Isaiah, his ultimate victory and exaltation will come as something of a shock to everyone.

53:4-6: Yet the Servant’s suffering is for us, and brings us peace with God

The third stanza – the middle verse – of this poem brings us right to the heart of this prophecy, because it is here that we begin to see how this enigma of the Servant’s suffering and ultimate glory can be reconciled. Let’s re-read verses 4-6:

Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities. The punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

Again, we see a juxtaposition here: Isaiah says that the onlooker will look at the Servant and decide that he is ‘stricken by God, smitten by him and afflicted’. In other words, the Servant will suffer to such an extent that the onlooker will see his pathetic predicament and come to the conclusion that God was punishing him because of some great sin.

And yet in fact what is happening is sacrifice. The words used here to describe the actions of the Servant would have been very familiar to Jews who lived at the period that Isaiah wrote. The language used here is the same language as that used to describe the sacrifices that God had ordained centuries earlier for the people of God. Sacrifice is a key theme of the Bible; and this is because a holy God – a perfect and pure God – can’t tolerate sin, our evil and rebellion against him. Sin leads to death. And in his mercy, God allowed sacrifice – the death of an animal in the place of a human that deserved to die. An animal took the fate that a human deserved. The animal was the human’s substitute.

In the most important of those sacrificial ceremonies, known as the Day of Atonement, which you can read about later in Leviticus 16, two animals were sacrificed. One of them was burnt as an offering; and the priest laid his hands symbolically on the head of the other animal, known as the scapegoat. The scapegoat was then led out into the wilderness to die. Taken together, these sacrifices showed God’s holiness – that sin leads to death – and God’s mercy: that when the punishment has been taken, nothing else is left to pay. The animal was deliberately left out in the wilderness to die, never to return, to shown symbolically that sin had been dealt with completely.

And now this language of sacrifice is used to describe the Servant’s predicament. Look down at verses 4-6 again. ‘The punishment that brought us peace was upon him’ – just like the sacrificed animal in the Day of Atonement. ‘The LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all’ – just like the priest laid on the scapegoat the iniquity of the people of Israel. Do you see what is going on here? The Servant is going to be a substitutionary sacrifice, just like the animals at the Day of Atonement.

What I am saying is this: to a holy God, a God who is completely just, sin must be punished. He would be unjust if he did not. That’s what the Old Testament sacrificial system shows. But an Old Testament believer would have had a problem. It’s this: the Old Testament Scriptures keep re-iterating again and again that humans are not the same as other animals. So in the very first chapter of the Bible, Genesis 1, we read that the only beings made in the image of God are humans. So how could an animal really substitute for a human? A human is more valuable than an animal! It’s true that God promised in the Old Testament that trust placed in God’s provision of animal sacrifices would deal with sin, but they also would have surely kept reminding those making the sacrifices that what they really needed was a human sacrifice for sin, where a perfect human, somehow unblemished by sin, took the punishment of death in the place of other humans. In other words, they needed a perfect human substitute that would take God’s punishment in their place.

And do you see that is exactly what Isaiah is prophesying the Servant will do. ‘He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities. The punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.’ We are healed spiritually – made right with God – because the Servant takes the punishment that we deserve. God can’t just forgive sin and magic it away. God is not omnipotent in the sense that he can do anything. God can only do those things which are consistent with his nature. And so can’t readily pardon guilty people, because he has revealed himself as a God of infinite fairness and justice. He is a holy God. He must punish sin. And through sending his Servant, this is what he does. Through sending his Servant, and placing his punishment on him, pouring out all of his wrath against the Servant as he is made sin for others, God has found a way of forgiving guilty people like us whilst remaining holy and pure.

53:7-9: The Servant will voluntarily and willingly suffer death for us

So far we’ve seen, then, that firstly the Servant’s suffering makes him worthy of great exaltation; secondly, that the Servant will be utterly despised by other humans; and thirdly that the Servant’s suffering for us brings us peace with God. But perhaps there’s one issue running through your mind: it sounds pretty harsh of God to crush the Servant. It seems that there’s the Servant, minding his own business, and then suddenly he finds himself crushed by God in a horrific way. God doesn’t exactly seem blameless here himself with all of this violence.

Well, if that’s your thought, then come back to verses 7-9:

He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep is silent before her shearers, so he did not open his mouth. By oppression and judgement he was taken away. And who can speak of his descendents? For he was cut off from the land of the living; for the transgression of my people he was stricken. He was assigned a grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death, though he had done no violence, nor was any deceit in his mouth.

These verses make two points: firstly, the Servant’s death was undeserved. We see that especially affirmed in the last sentence – ‘though he had done no violence, nor was any deceit in his mouth.’ But the other thing that these verses stress is that the Servant’s suffering was completely voluntary on his part.

Look back at verse 7. The Servant was ‘led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.’ The image here isn’t that the Servant had no choice. That’s sometimes what we can think when we read these verses. A sheep en route to the slaughterhouse doesn’t have much choice if the farmer as decided it must die – is this verse suggesting the Servant had no choice either? No. The emphasis is on the last phrase: ‘so he did not open his mouth.’ The point is this: the Servant would have had every reason to object, to refuse to take the punishment. Verse 8 says that ‘by oppressive and judgement he was taken away’ – in other words, he was condemned without justice. The implication of the verse is that he could have spoken and freed himself from the ordeal he was about to undergo. But he did not. Instead, he remained silent. He did not object. He was calm and submissive as he put himself forward for sacrifice.

Imagine that you are a Jew held in a prisoner of war camp in the Second World War. For some reason there is a skirmish against the Nazi prison officers, and one of these prison officers gets beaten from behind by one of the men in the chambers, who is there with his family who are cowering in the corner. The prison officer gets to his feet and storms out. A few moments later, a whole company of Nazi soldiers enter the room with the beaten prisoner officer. The commander barks instructions explaining that whoever beat their comrade will get shot. But the beaten officer doesn’t know who beat him. Eventually, he comes to a man next to you. He wasn’t involved in the skirmish – in fact, he was trying to calm everyone down. But the prison officer is sure that the innocent man was the one who beat him. And so he is arrested. Everyone expects him to protest. But he looks at the guilty man and his family and bites his tongue. He does not protest. He is voluntarily led out of the room and shot dead.

And that is the picture we have of the Servant here. He voluntarily stays quiet and takes the punishment. We must never think that the Servant had no choice as he faced the punishment of God’s wrath. He knew exactly what was coming, and yet whilst completely innocent of any charge, he willingly and voluntarily sacrificed himself for others.

53:10-12: The Servant is worthy of glory because of his unique death

Onto the final stanza. Perhaps the most shocking of all:

‘Yet it was the LORD’s will to crush him and to cause him to suffer, and though the LORD makes his life a guilt offering, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand. After the suffering of his soul, he will see the light of life and be satisfied; by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many, and he will bear their iniquities. Therefore I will give him a portion among the great and will divide the spoils with the strong, because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of many and made intercession for the transgressors.’

You know someone's heart when you know their deep desires and what satisfies them. And these verses tell us what God desires and how that desire is achieved by his Servant. Verse 10 puts it this way: ‘It was the LORD’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer’ – more literally, and more shockingly, this verse might be rendered: ‘The LORD was pleased to crush him, putting him to grief.’ What? The LORD of the Universe was pleased to crush the Servant and cause him to suffer? The one true God was happy because of this violent mauling of the Servant? Yes.

Like the prophecy said earlier, we wouldn’t believe it had we not been told it was true. But here we see that God was pleased to crush the Servant. But before we start thinking that there’s a monster at the centre of the Universe, let’s realise that the LORD is only pleased because of what the Servant’s suffering achieved. He hated the action itself. But the Servant’s achievements are described in several ways in this stanza. Firstly – he was a guilt offering: again the language of sacrifice is used. The Servant’s death brings satisfaction for sin for a holy God. But secondly – note – ‘the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand.’ In other words, the Servant achieves something that God has planned, that he wants to do, that he desires.

Verse 11 shows what it is that God is out to achieve: to justify many. The point is this: if the Servant has borne the sin of others in his death, then their sin has been punished. And if their sin has been punished, they bear it no more. And if they bear it no more, then they are without guilt before God, and if they are without guilt before God, then they are justified; that is, they are legally acquitted by God and declared righteous. And now we see what God has been up to in this great and awful work of the Servant. He is providing for the acquittal of sinners. We have all sinned and brought shame to the glory of the holy LORD God Almighty! Left to ourselves we will come under his terrible wrath and everlasting judgement. But that is not his desire. His desire is that the Servant should be crushed in the place of many, to bear our iniquities and justify ungodly people like us.

Amazingly, verse 11 points to the resurrection of this Servant. Somehow Isaiah prophesied that the Servant will see ‘the light of life’. And note a very precious thing here: the Servant too will be satisfied. It’s not only the LORD who administered the justice that is happy with the outcome of the Servant’s work. The Servant himself too will ‘be satisfied’. He will be happy with what all of his suffering and humiliation achieved. In fact, he will be delighted with it.

And all of this makes the Servant, just in case we have forgotten, worthy of the same glory as God himself. For he has achieved the will of the LORD, through his humiliation he has met the desire of the LORD: that through his death, he will justify many and bear their iniquities. And so look at the conclusion in verse 12. God says, ‘Therefore I will give him a portion among the great’ – he will be worthy of worship and praise and glory and adoration and honour and thanks. Yet he will divide the spoils. The Servant’s desire is that he shares his glory with the very people that he has justified, the very ones for whom he suffered, the very ones who mocked him and hid their faces from him and despised him. The Servant satisfies our longings at the cost of his own life: he justifies the ungodly; he makes us part of the family, the offspring, of God; and he shares with us the spoils of universal triumph – the promise of a restored relationship with our Creator forever.

Conclusion

Let me read some verses from Acts 8: the account of Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch. The Eunuch is reading aloud from the scroll of Isaiah as he travels home from Jerusalem.

Philip ran up to the chariot and heard the man reading Isaiah the prophet. "Do you understand what you are reading?" Philip asked.

"How can I," he said, "unless someone explains it to me?" So he invited Philip to come up and sit with him. The eunuch was reading this passage of Scripture:
"He was led like a sheep to the slaughter,
and as a lamb before the shearer is silent,
so he did not open his mouth.
In his humiliation he was deprived of justice.
Who can speak of his descendants?
For his life was taken from the earth."

The eunuch asked Philip, "Tell me, please, who is the prophet talking about, himself or someone else?" Then Philip began with that very passage of Scripture and told him the good news about Jesus.

The incredible news of the New Testament is that the Servant has come! Jesus of Nazareth is the Servant. And he is not only the Servant, but the Son of God, God in human form, who fulfilled the prophecy we read about in Isaiah 53: the incredible news that people can be made right through his death on the cross in our place, taking the wrath of God the Father against sin. It is Jesus’ death on the cross – and his death alone – that can justify us, and can legally acquit us before God. It is that which makes Jesus worthy of glory and honour and praise; because he was slain.

Many of us here will not be hearing this truth for the first time. We’ll be used to the idea that Jesus bore the anger of God the Father against our sin on the cross. But let’s not skip over this. Let’s think about what the cross reveals. It reveals God the Father’s heart – who desired to crush the Son – not because he enjoyed it, but in order to bring many back to him. And the Son, the Servant, is glad about this. Jesus is not resentful at God the Father for sending him to the cross. In fact, as Isaiah prophesies, he sees the good pleasure of the Lord succeeding through his own anguish and is satisfied – not frustrated or bitter – but satisfied. And so if you want to know the heart of God and the heart of his Servant Jesus, look at the cross. It is there that we see God as he really is: holy and just – sin must be punished, even if it means the tortuous death of Christ – and yet loving: delighting to go to the cross and delighting to punish in order to justify sinners like us. This is no wishy-washy or nostalgic love. This is incredible, breathtaking love – love shown in an incredible action: one that we would not have believed if it was not written in front of us.

And we need to be reminded of these truths. Many in the world hate the cross of Christ. They hate what it says about sin and the fact that it must be punished. Richard Dawkins spoke of the cross of Christ as ‘vicious, sado-masochistic and repellent’. Even some of those from within the church can struggle with the Biblical teaching about the cross. One writer recently described the idea of God the Father punishing the Son for our sin as being akin to ‘cosmic child abuse’. And yet what we’ve seen the cross reveals tonight is a God of love: not of sentimental love, but of a real love, a love that has met our deepest need. A God who has found a way of justifying guilty people like us and not condemning us all to hell. God’s response to our guilt isn’t to say that it doesn’t matter, but to sacrificially pay the price necessary that we might be forgiven through his sacrifice. And this is incredibly humbling, it’s an incredible to our pride, but just think about the God that all this reveals.

One final word. And that’s to any here who any who haven’t yet personally placed their trust in Jesus. Isaiah 53 is incredibly humbling. It’s humbling because this passage shows that there is nothing that we can do to justify ourselves. There’s nothing that we can do to make ourselves right with God. And yet there is great liberty in what we read too. Although there’s nothing we can do, if we humble ourselves, we can receive the great blessings of what the Servant, Jesus Christ, suffered for us. And so tonight, will you come clean? Will you admit that you deserve God’s judgement, God’s hell, like all of us? Will you admit that the solutions you trust in – good deeds or religious activity or anything else – won’t work? Can you see how serious the problem of sin and God’s wrath against it is? Can you see the danger you are in? Then humble yourself and realise that God has done everything you need to have a restored relationship with him. He has taken the punishment for your rebellion against him onto himself so that you might be forgiven. That is why Jesus came.

Let me close with a quote from the Christian writer John Stott:

As I look at the cross I cannot tell which is more apparent – the relentless antagonism of God against our sin and rebellion, or the inextinguishable love of God towards guilty sinners. Both are fully satisfied at the cross. God has done everything necessary for my forgiveness. What then is there left for me to do? Nothing – except to acknowledge my rebellion against God, turn from it, and receive Jesus Christ into my life as my Saviour, committing myself personally to him, and asking God to take my sins away.

Let’s pray.