Christmas really is one of my most favorite times of the year. I love the decorations, the gifts, the parties, and the church Christmas programs, but most of all I love the music. The traditional Christmas carols, the sacred Christmas hymns, they just give me all the feels when it comes to Christmas; in the car, at home, at church, you will almost always find me listening to Christmas music during the month of December. And one of my most favorite Christmas songs is the song “Mary, Did You Know?”, and my most favorite arrangement of the song is performed by Mark Lowry with the acapella group Voctave singing backup (posted above). Mark Lowry wrote the lyrics in 1985 when he was asked to write a script for a church Christmas play, and the lyrics were put to music in 1991 by Buddy Greene. Of course, it has been recorded by many varied recording artists over the years, both secular and sacred, and it is sung and played regularly during Christmas programs in churches all across the United States and, no doubt, around the world.
However, every year it seems, I read some renewed or repeated criticism of the song on social media. Some attempt to dismiss the song theologically, citing the Annunciation and the Magnificat as evidence that “she knew”. I have even seen some who have attempted to go line by line through the song to give a yes or no answer to each rhetorical question. Similarly, those in the Roman Catholic tradition take issue with the suggestion that Mary needed to be “delivered” and “made new” because of their (erroneous) beliefs about the sinlessness of Mary. Others argue that the song is mawkish, sappy, and infantilizing, that it is “the most sexist Christmas song ever written,” or that it “treats her like a clueless child.” Still others dismiss the song simply because it is overplayed and/or poorly performed by well-meaning church members during the Christmas season as “special” music. And to be honest, when I read criticisms like these, I just shake my head and wonder how we have lost our wonder at the miracle of the incarnation.
Biblically, it is true that Luke presents Mary as a paragon of faith. When she is confronted by the angel Gabriel with the news that she will conceive by the Holy Spirit and give birth to the Son of God, she responds with simple faith, “See, I am the Lord’s servant. May it happen to me as you have said.” (Luke 1.38) And her Magnificat (Luke 1.46-55) clearly indicates that she understood that this was a pivotal moment in the unfolding of God’s plan of redemption for the world. However, we also know that at one point during his earthly ministry, she came with her other children to try to hide Jesus away because they thought he was an embarrassment to the family. (Mark 3:31-35, parallels Matthew 12.46-50, Luke 8.19-21) Time and again, the Gospels detail how the first followers of Jesus struggled to fully understanding the significance of who he was and what he had come to do, and we should assume that Mary would have been no different. We know that Mary treasured and pondered all these things in her heart, but the Bible is clear that the first followers of Jesus, including Mary and his brothers, grew in their understanding of the person and work of Jesus over the course of his life and ministry and that they did not understand him in full until after his resurrection and the coming of the Spirit.
The point is that we should not underestimate the richness of what it means for God to become flesh. When Jesus was born in the Bethlehem 2000 years ago, there was already plenty of theological and cultural expectations as to what he was supposed to be and do. But Jesus turned those expectations on their heads, and he demonstrated that he is a Messiah who cannot be fit into a preconceived box. And as his followers, we should never lose our wonder at this fact. Jesus will always be more than we could possibly hope to comprehend; we will never have him fully figured out. Even when we reach glory, we are told that “He had a name written that no one knows except himself.” (Revelation 19.12) This means that even then there will be more to learn and understand about him when he returns as glorious king. We must never lose our wonder at the person and work of Jesus. Even the things we think we know about him pale in comparison to the fullness of his glory.
And so, when we hear the song “Mary, Did You Know?” this Christmas season, we shouldn’t try to dissect it theologically. We shouldn’t dismiss it because of its musical style, its tone and perspective, or even its emotionality. We should allow it to spur our reflections, to feed our wonder, to drive us to worship the God who became flesh for our sakes, who suffered and died in our place, and who is coming again to receive us unto himself. The song is an artistic, poetic reflection on the miracle of Christmas and the sheer mystery of the incarnation. Mary was in a unique position to feel the weight and wonder of it all, and at Christmas, it is right for us to enter into her experience, to ponder anew what it must have been like, and to fall down in worship of the God who became flesh. This Christmas, let us rekindle our wonder. Let us stand in awe and silence, and let us rejoice in the fact that we have a savior who came to heal our brokenness, to free us from sin, and to restore in us the joy of living in his presence. He is Emmanuel; He is God with us!
26 In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, 27 to a virgin engaged to a man named Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. 28 And the angel came to her and said, “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you.” 29 But she was deeply troubled by this statement, wondering what kind of greeting this could be. 30 Then the angel told her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. 31 Now listen: You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you will name him Jesus. 32 He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of his father David. 33 He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and his kingdom will have no end.”
34 Mary asked the angel, “How can this be, since I have not had sexual relations with a man?” 35 The angel replied to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore, the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. 36 And consider your relative Elizabeth—even she has conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called childless. 37 For nothing will be impossible with God.” 38 “See, I am the Lord’s servant,” said Mary. “May it happen to me as you have said.” Then the angel left her.
Title: On Jesus was Born to Reign Text: Isaiah 9.6-7, Luke 1. 26-38, Matthew 2.1-12, Revelation 11.15-19 Series: Promises Fulfilled Church: Redeemer Baptist Church, Jonesboro, AR Date: December 29, 2024
Today is Good Friday, a day when Christians around the world will pause to think about the death of Jesus Christ. It is a scene that has gripped the imaginations of Christian artists and sculptors now for two millennia, the Son of God hanging, naked, beaten, and bleeding, nailed to a Roman cross, and left to die. The brutal and gory realities of the scene would probably turn even the strongest of stomachs. And yet, for followers of Jesus, the words of the old hymn writer capture it well, “O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world, has a wondrous attraction for me.” This is because for those whose sins have been washed away by the shed blood of Christ, there is simply nothing more beautiful, nothing more deeply profound, than the substitutionary death of Son of God.
The profundity of the scene is best expressed in the words of Jesus; “About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out with a loud voice, “Elí, Elí, lemásabachtháni?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” (Matthew 27.46) This “cry of dereliction”, which Jesus quotes from Psalm 22.1, is typically explained as the moment in which the full weight of God’s wrath toward sin was placed on the Son, and because God is essentially holy and cannot look upon sin, “the father turned his face away”, as we often sing. Of course, I am not sure that we will ever understand what Jesus was feeling in that moment, but the significance of the moment invites us to spend the next few moments attempting to understanding its theological implications.
And our reflection on this scene must begin with the affirmation of the hypostatic union, or the truth that Jesus was both God and man. He was God the Son incarnate. So, what might it mean for the Son to be “abandoned” by the Father? From a trinitarian perspective, it cannot mean that the godhead was divided in any kind of way. We confess that the God of the Bible is three in one – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – one in essence, three in person. As a corollary, we confess that there is one God; we are not tri-theists. So, if there is only one God, then, it is metaphysically impossible for God to be divided from himself. In other words, the “cry of dereliction” cannot be understood to imply a separation or a division of the Father from the Son, or of God from himself.
Secondly, the doctrine of the Trinity also implies the idea of inseparable operations, meaning that whatever the Father does, the Son and the Holy Spirit do also, because there is only one God. This means that when the Father poured out His wrath on Jesus at the cross, that wrath belonged equally to the Son and the Spirit as well. So, it is completely accurate to say that the Son poured out His own wrath toward sin on Himself at the cross. This is the beauty of the Gospel, namely that what the justice of God required the love of God supplied. God took into Himself, in the person of Jesus Christ, the wrath that we deserve, so that we could be saved from His wrath. This truth should always leave us absolutely breathless and without words.
So, can we still sing the words “the father turned His face away”? I think yes; as Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:21, “He made the one who did not know sin to be sin for us.” One commentator that I recently read explains, “In a sense beyond human comprehension, God treated Christ as ‘sin,’ aligning him so totally with sin and its dire consequences that from God’s viewpoint he became indistinguishable from sin itself.” Jesus knew this to be his fate. He was fully and completely human, and, on the night He was betrayed, the burden of this task was so heavy that it caused even to sweat great drops of blood. Whatever the god-man felt in that moment, hanging there as the perfect and final sacrifice for our sin, is simply beyond our capability to fathom. Nevertheless, it was a fate that He willingly embraced for the sake of our salvation. And so we sing,
In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine, a wondrous beauty I see, for ’twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died, to pardon and sanctify me.
The events of Holy Week stand as the climax of the public ministry of Jesus in the Gospel accounts. All four of the Gospel writers devote almost half of their material to these events. Clearly, they intended for this story to stand at the center of our reflection on the person and work of Jesus. However, for most modern Christians, the events of Holy Week receive only a passing nod. Of course, we look forward to Easter and the cultural dressings that accompany it, and most churches emphasize the resurrection of Jesus on Easter Sunday, whether through song, sermon, or drama. But other than that, the final week of our Lord’s life mostly goes unacknowledged in the reflection and devotion of many people who call themselves His followers. As the Apostle James would say, “My brothers and sisters, these things should not be this way.” (James 3.10) The person and work of our Lord Jesus Christ should be the central focus of our reflection, not only during Holy Week, but every week of the year, because He is the never ending source of the sustaining grace that we need to live as His followers. So, in the space that follows, I would like to briefly sketch out the daily events of Holy week, so that we may grow in our understanding of what He accomplished on our behalf.
Palm Sunday On Palm Sunday, Jesus made His triumphant entry into Jerusalem. This was His official presentation before the Jerusalem religious establishment as the long-awaited Messianic King. Matthew informs us that this event is the fulfillment of the prophecy of Zechariah 9.9 (Matthew 21.4-5), and we have this confirmed by the shouts of the Galilean pilgrims who sang “Hosanna” (Mark 11.9-10). However, as elated and joyous as the crowds were that day, we know that there is darkness on the horizon. Even as He was approaching the Holy City, He paused to weep over their lack of faith (Luke 19.41-44). It is likely that many of those who joined in the procession that day expected that this would be the day when Jesus would overthrow the Romans and establish Israel as an independent kingdom, and yet His disciples knew that He had already predicted three times that He would be crucified in Jerusalem. So, even as the disciples celebrated the arrival of Messiah, they waited with bated breath as His public ministry began to approach its primary purpose.
Monday The last thing Jesus did on Sunday before retiring to Bethany for the night was to inspect the Temple (Mark 11.11), and in the subsequent scenes, the Gospel writers make it clear what He found there. On Monday, as they were heading back into the city, Jesus happened upon a fig tree that appeared to be fruitful, but finding it empty, He cursed it. It subsequently withered. In between these scenes, we have the familiar story of the temple cleansing. The implication is clear; the temple (and the Jerusalem religious establishment that it represents) was fruitless and empty. Though it had all the right external dressings, it was empty of any and all spiritual substance. And so, in what can only be described as a public act of prophetic judgment, Jesus clears the temple and begins to teach the people. This act was the final straw for the Jewish religious leaders, and from that point on, they began to look intently for a way to kill Him.
Tuesday, the “Day of Controversy” On Tuesday of His passion, Jesus returned to the “scene of the crime”, so to speak, and as He was walking through the Temple, various factions representing the leadership of the Jewish religious establishment began to question him. The first question that they ask is the most telling and sets the tone for the rest of the day. “By what authority are you doing these things? Who gave you this authority to do these things?” they asked, in what was clearly an accusatory manor. It is obvious that their questions were not in earnest, and each successive interaction reveals their scheme with more clarity. But as the “Day of Controversy” unfolds, Jesus ably avoids their traps, and in the process, He exposes the true nature of their problem. Time and again, He brings the discussion back to the Scriptures, exposing the stubborn refusal of His opponents to submit to their authority. In other words, their problem is not with Him per se; rather, it is with the authority of God which He represents as Messiah. His is an authority that they all but refuse to submit to, and it is this refusal that ultimately provokes Jesus to condemn of the Temple and all that it represents in the Olivet Discourse. In this discourse, Jesus turns the attention of His disciples away from the religious, political, and nationalistic hopes of the Jewish religious establishment to a hope that culminates in His return in glory to establish the Kingdom of God once and for all.
“Silent” Wednesday Wednesday of Holy Week is known as “Silent Wednesday”, because the Gospels are practically silent as to the activity of Jesus and the Disciples on that day. It is most likely that they spent the day in Bethany with Mary, Martha, and Lazarus enjoying the limited time that they had left to be together. It is also likely that it was on this Wednesday, as they were sharing a meal together in the home of Simon the Leper, that the woman with the alabaster jar came to anoint Jesus (Mark 14.3-10). Immediately, Judas raised the alarm that this valuable commodity had been wasted when it could have been sold and the profits given to the poor. But, when his concerns were seemingly dismissed by Jesus, it was the final straw. Apparently, this event was the breaking point for Judas, and immediately, he went out to plot with the Jewish religious leaders to betray Jesus for 30 pieces of silver. This is why this day is also known as “Spy” Wednesday.
Maundy Thursday (See also “On Maundy Thursday”) On Thursday morning, Jesus instructed His disciples on where they could prepare to celebrate the Passover, and later that evening, Jesus arrived at the location where He would celebrate His Last Supper with them. The evening began with Jesus donning the apparel of a servant and washing the disciples feet. Using this action as an object lesson, Jesus went on to teach them in the Upper Room Discourse (John 13-17) about a New Commandment, “that you should love one another.” This is why we call it “Maundy” Thursday; the name comes from the Latin mandatum which means command, “a new commandment.” During the course of the evening, Jesus predicted that the disciples would betray Him (even Peter would do so three times before the rooster crowed), and Judas left to prepare for his act of betrayal. The evening concluded with the sharing of the bread and cup as symbols of His body that was about to be broken and His blood that was about to be shed for the forgiveness of sins as the inauguration of the New Covenant. After their meal, they adjourned to the Garden of Gethsemane, and while the disciples slept, Jesus prayed three times that “this cup” (by which He meant His passion) would pass from Him. Shortly thereafter, the mob arrived, Judas completed his betrayal with a kiss, and Jesus was arrested.
Good Friday After His arrest, Jesus was carried away to the house of the High Priest where He was subjected to a sham trial in the darkness of night. The fix was in, as they say, as one by one witnesses were brought in to make false accusations against Him, and yet, throughout it all, He remained quiet. At first light, they brought Him before the Roman authorities, because the Jewish religious leaders lacked the authority to put anyone to death, and after being examined and found innocent by both Pontius Pilate and Herod Antipas, the religious leaders stirred up the crowd to call for His death. So, Pilate offered them a choice; he would release Barabbas the murderer or Jesus, the so-called King of the Jews. Again, the religious leaders stirred up the crowd, and they called for the release of Barabbas and for the crucifixion of Jesus. Pilate gave them what they asked for; he turned Jesus over to the Romans soldiers to be mocked and beaten, and then they led him away to be crucified. At the top of Golgotha, they nailed him to a cross and crucified him between two criminals. The soldiers cast lots for His clothes, and the Jewish religious leaders mocked him. At about three in the afternoon, He cried out with a loud voice “It is finished” and yielded up His Spirit to His Father. The Roman soldiers pierced His side with a spear to confirm that He was dead. Joseph of Arimathea requested His body and buried it in his own personal tomb before the start of the Sabbath at sundown.
Holy Saturday The Gospels are mostly silent as to the details of Holy Saturday. Of course, it was the Jewish sabbath, a day dedicated to rest and to the worship of God, but for the followers of Jesus, this day was probably not very restful, to say the least. After all, they had just watched in horror as their beloved Master was wrongfully accused, unjustly convicted, and tragically executed. Jesus was dead, and it appeared that all their hopes had died with Him. He was supposed to be the Messiah, the prophesied and anointed King who would establish the Kingdom of God on earth, and He had been murdered, seemingly defeated by the worldly powers that be. Sure, he had predicted His own death and resurrection, but it is clear that they had no understanding of what that might mean until after all these things had taken place. On this Saturday, they were most likely overcome with grief and despair, and on top of that, there was the fear that what happened to Him might yet happen to them as well. And so, it is most likely that they spent the day locked behind closed doors cowering in terror. It was a dark day indeed, and yet, we know looking back that His death would not be the final word, that light and hope were still on the horizon. But this is the nature of Christian discipleship; sometimes we must endure the depths of the darkness before we ever begin to see the light of hope.
Resurrection Sunday On the first day of the week, Sunday morning, at daybreak, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome went to the tomb to anoint His body for burial; there hadn’t been time to do so on Friday due to the haste of getting Him buried before the start of the Sabbath. As they made their way to the tomb, they began to wonder how they might roll the stone away. However, when they arrived, they found the stone had already been rolled away, and when they looked inside the tomb, they were met by an angelic being who informed them of what had taken place. “Don’t be alarmed,” he told them. “You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here.” (Mark 16.6) Immediately, and with the angel’s express instruction, they returned to the city to inform the disciples of what they had seen. Of course, Peter, along with John ran off to see it for themselves, and finding it as the women had said, they were amazed at what this could mean. But Mary Magdalene stayed behind at the tomb, crying and confused. A man approached her, and at first, she did not recognize Him, assuming Him to be the gardener. “Sir, if you’ve carried him away, tell me where you’ve put him, and I will take him away.” (John 20.15) But when He called her by name, she immediately understood that this man was none other than her Lord and Savior. Later that day, He appeared to all of them in the upper room, even though the door was still locked, comforted them with the peace of His presence, and commissioned them to proclaim all that they had seen and heard.
If you are like me, and you have been raised in church, this may seem like the same ole’ story that has been told and retold too many times to count, but we must remember that this is the greatest story that has ever been told. These events are the pendulum upon which the course and destiny of human history hangs. The story of Jesus, especially His death and resurrection, are the foundation of God’s redemptive work in the world, and it is the very soul of our salvation. As followers of Jesus, we must never tire of hearing it, telling it, reading it, and singing it; we must never cease to be amazed at the wondrous work of Jesus on our behalf. And so this Holy week, let us echo the words of that great hymn writer, who wrote,
Tell me the story of Jesus Write on my heart every word Tell me the story most precious Sweetest that ever was heard
43 But it is not so among you. On the contrary, whoever wants to become great among you will be your servant, 44 and whoever wants to be first among you will be a slave to all. 45 For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
~Mark 10.43-45
Topic: Submission and Service Series: Spiritual Disciplines of the Christian Life Church: South Caraway Baptist Church, Jonesboro, AR Date: March 08, 2023
It is truly a manifestation of the grace of God that there are four accounts of the life of Jesus in the New Testament. They are rightly called theological history, because each one of them details the life of Jesus in a way that emphasizes and highlights particular aspects of who He is and what He has done for His people. While any one of them may have been sufficient on their own to convey the pertinent historical facts of His life, the four of them together paint a beautiful multilayered tapestry that has sparked the reflection and devotion of His followers now for two millennia. In the space that follows, I will sketch out the contours of that tapestry by discussing the particular emphases of each Gospel.
According to the documentary hypothesis, Mark wrote his gospel first based on the memoirs of the Apostle Peter. The vast majority of Mark’s gospel is reproduced in both Matthew and Luke, but this does not mean that Mark’s Gospel is incomplete, redundant, or lacking in historical and theological value. This value is seen clearly in the very first verse of his work, “The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Functioning somewhat like a title or purpose statement, this verse is packed with theological significance. It tells us that Mark’s work is a “gospel”, a word that means good news; it also states clearly that this good news has to do with Jesus, the messianic Son of God. That this is the primary way that Mark wants his audience to see Jesus is confirmed following His death, when a Roman Centurion says, “Truly, this man was the Son of God.”
However, what makes Mark’s gospel so compelling is that this truth is hidden throughout most of the Gospel. The so-called messianic secret, in which Jesus repeatedly instructs people not to make His identity known, stands in stark contrast to the bold affirmations at the beginning and end of Mark’s Gospel. This is probably because Mark wants his readers to understand that the messianic identity of Jesus is defined by His death on the cross for sin. Almost half of Mark’s gospel is dedicated to the events of Passion week. Whereas the first ten chapters are quickly paced and action oriented, the final six slow down to something like a snail’s pace in detailing the events of the final seven days of Jesus’ life. This is why many have considered Mark’s gospel to be an apology or a defense of the cross that was likely written for Christians in Rome shortly before the persecutions of Nero.
Of course, though chronologically prior, the Gospel of Mark is not ordered first in the New Testament canon; that pride of place belongs to the Gospel of Matthew, and it is easy to understand why. Not only does Matthew’s Gospel begin with a genealogy that traces the lineage of Jesus through David to Abraham, it also includes an infancy narrative that captivates those who read it. However, this is part of Matthew’s unique purpose to show that Jesus is the Son of David, Son of Abraham. Not only does this connect the New Testament back to the Old Testament, it also would have been particularly important if Matthew was writing to Jewish Christians, as many suppose. For Matthew, Jesus is the fulfillment of God’s covenant promises, both to Abraham and to David; he is the long awaited Davidic messiah, heir to the throne of God’s Kingdom, and the one who mediates the blessings of the Abrahamic Covenant.
More than that though, for Matthew, Jesus is a new and better Moses. This is evident in the many ways that the events of the first four chapters recapitulate the life of Moses. On top of this, Matthew has structured His gospel around five primary discourses, a fact that likely refers back to the five books of Moses. In the same way that Moses was the mediator of the Law under the Old Covenant, likewise, Jesus is the mediator of the “law” under the New Covenant. This is confirmed in the Great Commission, where Jesus commands His disciples to “teach all that I have commanded you.” The phrase “all that I have commanded you” most naturally refers back to the content of the five primary discourses in Matthew’s Gospel. Because of this, many consider Matthew’s Gospel to be a handbook on discipleship, a manual that instructs us in what it means to follow Jesus.
The Gospel of Luke rounds out the “Synoptic Gospels”, and like Matthew, it begins with a beautiful retelling of the Christmas story. However, what stands out in Luke’s infancy narrative is the role of the Holy Spirit. Of course, many consider Luke to be the theologian of the Spirit par excellence in the New Testament, not least of which is due to the continued role that the Spirit plays in Luke’s second volume, the Book of Acts, otherwise known as the Acts of the Holy Spirit. Luke’s emphasis on the role of the Spirit is largely due to his desire to present Jesus as the Spirit anointed messiah. This is confirmed in chapter 4 of Luke’s Gospel, when Jesus reads a passage from the Book of Isaiah, which says in part “The Spirit is upon me.” After He sits down, He says, “Today, this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” In other words, Luke wants us to see that Jesus is the spirit anointed Messiah who has finally come to pour out the blessings of the Messianic jubilee. According to the passage from Isaiah, chapter 61, these blessings are primarily manifested in the compassionate healing of those who are blind, deaf, mute, etc, and throughout Jesus’ ministry, Luke repeatedly details the compassion that Jesus demonstrated during his healing ministry. For Luke in particular, Jesus is a man of sorrows, well acquainted with grief, bearing the burdens and ailments of many.
In addition to this, a large portion of Luke’s unique material is dedicated to Jesus’ final journey toward Jerusalem. In Luke, chapter 9, we read that “He set his face like flint to go to Jerusalem;” this simply means that the final journey of Jesus to Jerusalem to be crucified was purposeful and intentional on the part of Jesus, so that “the scriptures might be fulfilled.” The fulfillment of God’s plan for salvation history is a primary emphasis in both Luke’s Gospel and in the Book of Acts. In other words, Jesus was not a victim of circumstance or the maniacal plots of evil men; He was delivered up according to the predetermined plan of God from before the foundations of the world. Luke wants his audience to understand that everything that happened during the life of Jesus from his birth to his death, resurrection, ascension, and session is the fulfillment of God’s eternal plan to redeem humanity from their sins. In fact, in the final chapter of Luke’s gospel, we read on more than one occasion that “all that was written in the Law, the Prophets, and the Psalms must be fulfilled.”
Last, but certainly not least, is the Gospel of John, and the relationship between John and the synoptics is a question that has bewildered many throughout the centuries. This is mostly because John begins His gospel with a striking description of the eternal Word, God the Son, who came incarnate and “dwelt among us”. Clearly, “the disciple whom Jesus loved” wants his readers to understand that this Jesus was no ordinary man; He is the incarnate God man, the Word made flesh, and as he indicates at the end of His gospel, “These things are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, and by believing, have life in His name.” The deity of Jesus practically jumps off of the page in John’s gospel, not the least of which is because of the several “I am” statements that are found throughout the book, the most profound of which is “Before Abraham was, I am.” Of course, these “I am” statements refer back to the divine name which was revealed to Moses at the burning bush, and so indicate a startling awareness in the mind of Jesus of His own divinity.
Of course, in the service of this purpose, John structures His gospel around seven specific miracles, or, as he calls them, “signs.” If John did, in fact, write two to three decades after the synoptics, then it seems clear that he did not believe it necessary to record all that Jesus began to do and teach; he even confesses that to do so would require more books than could be humanly conceived. But these seven signs were singled out by John because they advance His thesis that Jesus is the Christ. From the turning of water into wine to the raising of Lazarus from the dead, every one of these signs demonstrate a particular aspect of Jesus messianic identity and so prove that He is the Christ, the one who gives and sustains life in all those who are filled with His Spirit.
In the final analysis, it seems clear that if one of these four gospels were lost or removed from the canon, the followers of Jesus would be at a severe disadvantage. Each and every one of them is necessary for us to appreciate the multi-faceted beauty of the person and work of Him who is called Christ. From the earliest centuries of the Christian movement, these four evangelists have stood together in chorus, singing not in unison but in harmony, and because of this, the followers of Jesus have a sure and certain foundation upon which they can stand as they attempt to follow Christ and be more like Him.
If there was one word that might be used to describe the culture that we live in, it would most likely be “discontent”; we are a people who have forgotten what it means to be content with what we have. We are constantly inundated with media and ad campaigns that promise satisfaction and fulfillment through some new product or service. On top of that, the proliferation of social media has caused the disease of comparison to rise to pandemic levels, such that we are unconsciously driven by a nagging need to have more and better than our “friends”. Whether because of materialistic consumerism or the sickness of comparison, we have become a culture that has completely forgotten how to be content. However, for those who are in Christ, the Scriptures remind us that “godliness with contentment is great gain.” (1 Timothy 6.6) In other words, our submission to the kingship of Christ, our citizenship in His Kingdom, is exhibited in our contentment with all that He has and has not blessed us with.
This is exactly the point that Jesus makes in the “Sermon on the Mount” in Matthew, chapters 5-7. The Sermon on the Mount is essentially the manifesto of Jesus’ Kingdom; it is Jesus’ vision for what life in His Kingdom should look like. In it, He describes the attitudes, the habits of character, and the behaviors that should identify His people. And this is exactly the point, namely that the Kingdom of God is not something that is just a future hope to be realized. It is that, but during His earthly ministry, by His death, resurrection, and ascension, Jesus inaugurated the Kingdom of God, and now, He is seated at the right hand of the Father, ruling over His people through the indwelling presence of His Spirit. This is often described by the phrase “already but not yet”, which is a short hand way of saying that the Kingdom of God is already inaugurated but not yet consummated. And because we are currently living under the benevolent and gracious rule of King Jesus, we are able to cultivate the spiritual discipline of contentment. As Jesus himself says,
Therefore I tell you: Don’t worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; or about your body, what you will wear. … But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you.
Matthew 6.25, 33
In these verses, Jesus encourages His disciples to replace their worry and anxiety with contentment because His good Father knows their needs before they even ask Him. Even as He cares for the birds of the sky and lilies of the field, how much more will He certainly care for those who have been united with His Son by faith. “Therefore don’t worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6.34) But, of course, this is easier said than done. Worry and anxiety are subtle; they are feelings that often well up inside of us unexpectedly and unnoticed. How, then, can we prevent ourselves from being overcome by these stumbling blocks? Is there a spiritual inoculation that will help us fight against their infection? I would submit that there is, and I believe Jesus identifies it for us in the section that immediately precedes His discussion of contentment.
In the first half of Matthew, chapter 6, Jesus discusses the spiritual disciplines of giving, prayer, and fasting. Of course, He lays out the primary principle for the practice of these disciplines in verse 1 of the chapter, “Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. Otherwise, you have no reward with your Father in heaven.” However, there is a reason why He follows up His discussion of these by commands us not to worry. These spiritual disciplines are the primary means by which we cultivate the inner quietude of peace and contentment. When we give sacrificially of our material possessions for the blessing of others and devote ourselves the pursuit of God rather than material comforts through prayer and fasting, we will find ourselves being more and more content with what we do or do not have. In other words, spiritual contentment is borne out of soul that is fully satisfied in its own communion with the one true and living God.
In the piety of American Evangelicalism, the discipline of contentment among the disciples of Jesus is a glaring whole in our cultivation of Christlikeness. Sadly, we often look more like citizens of this world than citizens of the already but not yet Kingdom of God. We are driven by the felt needs of the moment instead of walking in satisfied contentment with our God, and it shows. We would do well to reconsider what it means to live under the reign of Christ and submit our material resources and our physical needs to the one who taught us to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.” (Matthew 6.11) This is the secret to the cultivation of contentment. As the Apostle Paul said,
I don’t say this out of need, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I find myself. I know how to make do with little, and I know how to make do with a lot. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being content—whether well fed or hungry, whether in abundance or in need. I am able to do all things through him who strengthens me.
According to the Christian calendar, today is Ash Wednesday which marks the beginning of the liturgical season of Lent. I have previously written on the season of Lent here and here, so I refer you to these posts for my thoughts on the season of Lent and its spiritual value. Of course, the primary spiritual practice that is traditionally associated with the observance of Lent is the spiritual discipline of fasting, but, even outside of the season of Lent, the spiritual discipline of fasting is a valuable practice for those who wish to be more like Jesus. However, in our consumeristic culture, the discipline of fasting is a spiritual practice that is rarely, if ever, engaged in the Christian life, and this is much to our loss. The witness of Holy Scripture and of church history is replete with examples of men and women whose engagement in the spiritual discipline of fasting had meaningful and abiding value in their walk with Christ. If this is true, why then are we so resistant to this biblically grounded and historically proven discipline of the Christian life?
Part of our resistance may stem from the fact that we simply do not understand what the spiritual discipline of fasting is all about. Because our pulpits are almost completely silent on the topic, the only kind of fasting with which we are familiar has to do with nutrition, weight loss, or some other physical or medical concern. For this reason, our consideration of the question of fasting is primarily focused on the physical aspects of the practice. What to eat, when to eat, how much to eat, we are practically consumed with our need for physical nourishment. Of course, this is very purpose of the spiritual discipline of fasting, to expose our complete and total dependence on food for the production of energy and the cultivation of physical health. In the same way that our bodies are dependent on physical nourishment, so also our souls are dependent on spiritual nourishment for the cultivation of spiritual health and vitality. The purpose of the spiritual discipline of fasting is to teach our souls to hunger and thirst for spiritual food in the same way that our bodies hunger for spiritual food. As Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” (Matthew 5.6)
Another reason for our reluctance to practice this discipline, and perhaps a more fundamental one, is simply our aversion to anything that might cause us discomfort. As creatures, we love our comfort, our ease, our physical pleasure, and we resist, sometimes vehemently, any kind of activity or behavior that might take away our comfort, even temporarily. Simply put, we don’t like pain, and going without food, even if it is just for one meal, can cause some quite unpleasant physical side effects. But we must be willing to entertain the possibility that this pain is good pain, that some temporary physical discomfort could be beneficial if it results in lasting spiritual benefit. Based on the clear scriptural and historical evidence, we must conclude that this is the case. In the same way that physical exercise is often associated with aches and pains in the short term, we all know that regular exercise habits lead to a higher likelihood of physical health in the long run. So, rather than avoiding the temporary discomforts of the spiritual discipline of fasting, we must learn to embrace these as a pathway to long term spiritual health. As the Apostle Paul writes in 1 Timothy, chapter 4, verse 8, “For the training of the body has limited benefit, but godliness is beneficial in every way, since it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come.”
However, the primary reason for why we should relearn the value of the spiritual discipline of fasting is simply this, namely that our Lord expected us to engage in it. Of course, in the Sermon on the Mount, he did say “when you fast” and not “if you fast” (Matthew 6.16), but his expectation for His disciples is even more clear in Mark, chapter 2. In verse 18 of that chapter, the disciples of the Pharisees and the disciples of John the Baptist come to Jesus to ask Him why His disciples do not fast. Apparently, their lack of practice in this area did not go unnoticed, and so, Jesus explains that they cannot fast while “the bridegroom” is with them, by which He clearly refers to Himself. “But the time will come when the groom will be taken away from them, and then they will fast on that day.” (Mark 2.20) The footnote in the NET Bible indicates that this is a veiled reference to His death, a prediction that He would make more clearly following Peter’s confession at Caesarea Philippi (cf. Mark 8.31, 9.31, 10.33). So, here Jesus is looking forward to the time when His disciples will live without His physical embodied presence, and “they will fast on that day.” In other words, one way that we commune with the risen and ascended Christ is through our submission to His Spirit in the discipline of fasting.
Of course, we must hasten to add that while Jesus may have expected that His disciples would fast, He did not expressly command them to do so. So, our lack of engagement in this spiritual discipline can in no way be construed as sin. However, if we have no driving desire to be more like Jesus, no deep longing to commune with Him by the Spirit, no genuine affection for Christ and His glory, then we may need to consider whether we know Him at all. The Scriptures are clear that to know Christ, to sit in His presence, is far better sustenance than any physical nourishment that food may offer. This is why Jesus told Martha that Mary had chosen the “better meal” (Luke 10.42, author’s translation). This is the irony, namely that fasting is feasting. In other words, the spiritual discipline of fasting is one way by which we feast on the sustenance that comes from Christ.
So Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life in yourselves. The one who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day, because my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. The one who eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him. Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven; it is not like the manna your ancestors ate—and they died. The one who eats this bread will live forever.”
44 It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three, 45 because the sun’s light failed. The curtain of the sanctuary was split down the middle. 46 And Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I entrust my spirit.” Saying this, he breathed his last.
47 When the centurion saw what happened, he began to glorify God, saying, “This man really was righteous!” 48 All the crowds that had gathered for this spectacle, when they saw what had taken place, went home, striking their chests. 49 But all who knew him, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.
~Luke 23.44-49
Title: On How the Death of Jesus Changed Everything Text: Luke 23.44-49 Series: Who is Jesus? A Study of the Gospel of Luke Church: South Caraway Baptist Church, Jonesboro, AR Date: January 1, 2023
I love Christmas music, both the secular and sacred. When I hear it on the radio, in retail stores, or even in church, it just brings back all the wonderful memories of this time of year from my childhood. So, as the song goes, it’s the holiday season, so hoop-de-do and dickory dock. That means that Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s are right around the corner, and most of us are preoccupied with decorations and presents, parties and planning, and all of the other details that fill our minds during this time of year. But for Christians, this time of year is an invitation to reflect afresh on the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. Traditionally, the season of Advent consists of the four Sundays that lead up to the celebration of Christmas, and it is a time when we are invited to look back on the first coming of Jesus at the incarnation even while we look forward to the second coming of Jesus. For more on this, see my post here.
However, most discussions of our Lord’s second coming always ends up with the same plaguing question, “So, when is he coming? When will it be?” This is a question that has plagued the people of God since the days of Jesus’ earthly ministry, and even before. We can read in the Psalms and prophets of the Old Testament where the people of God cried out in agony wondering, “Lord, how long will the wicked—how long will the wicked celebrate?” (Psalms 94.3), or “How long will you judge unjustly and show partiality to the wicked?” (Psalm 82.2), or even “How long, Lord, must I call for help and you do not listen or cry out to you about violence and you do not save?” (Habakkuk 1.2). This has been the longing of the people of God throughout history, that He would act finally and climatically to put an end to sin, vindicate His people, and establish His perfect reign on earth.
A quick review of the New Testament and what it says about the second coming of Jesus would seem to indicate that these prayers have been answered. In those hallowed pages, we read promises like, “In the same way, when you see all these things, recognize that he is near—at the door.” (Matthew 24.33), and “Look, I am coming soon, and my reward is with me to repay each person according to his work.” (Revelation 22.12), and “The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet.” (Romans 16.20). Words like soon, near, at hand, quickly seem to indicate that the consummation the people of God had waited for so long was imminent and about to be realized, perhaps even within the first century. The reality, of course, is that those words were written some 2000 years ago, and we are still waiting for the return of Jesus in glory and power. This, then, is the problem. What are we to make of the New Testament’s promises of imminence, in light of the fact that we are still waiting for His coming some two millennia later?
There are really three options for answering this problem; however, one of them is out of bounds for those who hold orthodox convictions about the person of Christ and the nature of the Bible. Essentially, this option simply concludes that Jesus and His followers were wrong in their expectation. In other words, Jesus had promised and they believed that He would return in power and glory in the first century, i.e. within their lifetimes, and they were just wrong. But this solution charges both Jesus and the authors of Holy Scripture with error, which is something orthodoxy simply cannot abide. We confess that the Scriptures are wholly inerrant, that the authors of both the Old and New Testaments were kept from error by the Holy Spirit who inspired them. Their words are the very words of God himself; therefore, if they lied, he lied, but he cannot lie. Moreover, we confess that Jesus was God the Son incarnate, the very embodiment of truth. He lived a sinless life in complete obedience to God’s Law; therefore, He cannot and did not lie in anything He said. So, we cannot conclude that Jesus or the Apostles were in error in any way.
Another solution to the apparent problem of eschatological imminence is to reinterpret what Jesus and the New Testament authors meant by His coming. In other words, they did not understand His coming to mean the visible bodily return of Jesus to the earth in power and glory to judge the wicked and vindicate the righteous at the end of time. Rather, when they referred to His coming, they were simply referring to His coming in judgment on the people of Israel who rejected and murdered him, a judgment that was fulfilled when Jerusalem was destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD. This view is usually referred to as preterism, and there is certainly more to it than the definition given here. But its central tenet is that all of the New Testament’s predictions and descriptions of our Lord’s second coming are fulfilled in the first century. The strength of this view is that it seeks to maintain the relevance of the New Testament’s promises of imminence for the biblical audience, and rightly so. However, the conclusion that His coming refers to something other than a visible bodily coming is anticlimactic and unconvincing to say the least. As the church has confessed for nearly two millennia, so also must we affirm that, “He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead and his kingdom will have no end.” (Nicene Creed)
The final solution, and the one that is most commonly accepted, is to reconsider what the Bible means by its promises of imminence. In other words, temporal qualifiers like near, soon, quickly, and at hand may not necessitate immediate fulfillment in the lifetime of Jesus and His first followers. This is even more likely when we remember that typological fulfillment is a typical characteristic of God’s comings throughout biblical history. Moreover, this is exactly how the question is answered within the New Testament itself. In Second Peter chapter 3, Peter addresses this very objection, “Where is his ‘coming’ that he promised?” (2 Peter 3.4). He gives a couple of different answers to this objection, the examination of which is beyond the scope of this post. However, in verse 8, he writes, “Dear friends, don’t overlook this one fact: With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day.” In this verse, Peter is saying that eschatological imminence must be considered from the eternal perspective and not from a temporal one; the meaning of words like soon, near, quickly, and at hand must be measured from the perspective of the one who gave the promise to begin with. Of course, some might object that this verse should not be used as a kind of trump card that dismisses the biblical promises of imminence, and they would be right. However, whatever is meant by eschatological imminence, our understanding of those promises must be consistent with the principles outlined in Second Peter chapter 3, because there are no contradictions in the Bible.
In light of this discussion then, we may conclude that the Bible’s promises of eschatological imminence are just as relevant to the people of God today as they were when they were first given. His coming is near; it is at hand. He is coming soon; he is coming quickly. This means that the people of God must live in a constant state of ready expectation and eager anticipation, because this is our blessed hope, “the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ.” (Titus 2.13). And while we wait, may we find ourselves consistently faithful, until we hear those wonderful and precious words, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your master.” As our Lord himself said, “Blessed is that servant whom the master finds doing his job when he comes.” (Luke 12.43)
Faith seeking Understanding 