Even my close friend, whom I trusted, he who shared my bread, has lifted up his heel against me (Psalm 41:9).

Betrayal

It’s a bitter, ugly word for a bitter, ugly deed.

Perhaps the worst thing about betrayal is that, by its very nature, it involves someone you trust.  In a sense, you have to give the betrayer the power to hurt you by making yourself vulnerable. Those who never make themselves vulnerable to others can never be betrayed.

But then, they can never really love, either.

The most powerful of all persons made himself vulnerable, opened himself to rejection, let himself be betrayed, to rescue his beloved.

That would be you.

Good Friday, Beloved

The blood will be a sign for you on the houses where you are; and when I see the blood, I will pass over you.  No destructive plague will touch you when I strike Egypt (Exodus 12:13).  

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 before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth (Isaiah 53:7).

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 (Isaiah 53:11).

You sin.

If that’s news to you, well, there you go.  At least you’re in good company—everyone who has ever lived.

That sin gets between you and God and messes up your relationship, just like lying, cheating, or whatnot hurts any relationship.  The Old Covenant had a means for dealing with sin and restoring your relationship with God.

Death.

Don’t like that part?  Well, I don’t blame you, but there it is.  As Paul says, “The wages of sin is death.” (Romans 3:23)  When Adam and Eve first sinned, death was the result.  God took an animal, killed it, and used the skin to cover their nakedness…their sin.  From that point on, animals were sacrificed to atone, or make up for, man’s sin.

Why would God want us to kill animals, and how does that make up for doing bad things?  By itself, the idea doesn’t seem to make much sense.  But think of it in context.  God used the sacrifice—the physical death—of innocent animals to remind us that sin causes spiritual death in us.  And it couldn’t be just any animal—it had to be your best.  Woe unto you if you brought leftovers to the Lord of the Universe.

The Passover Lamb was a particularly special sacrifice.  It reminded the people of their rescue from slavery.  When God broke Pharaoh’s will and forced him to release the Hebrews, he did it by sending an angel to put to death the firstborn of all Egypt.  To spare his people from this nightmare, God had each family kill a lamb—a perfect lamb, without any defect—and paint its blood on the doorposts of their house.  The Lord promised to “pass over” those houses sprinkled with blood.  The Jews continue to celebrate the Passover as a most holy day.

As we saw yesterday, Jesus brought a new covenant.  As he celebrated Passover with his closest friends, he said he was instituting, “A new covenant, in my blood.”  You see, the old covenant was limited in its power.  The blood of an animal could temporarily cover a man’s sin, but it could never remove it.  A man’s blood was useless, because the sacrifice had to be perfect, and no man was perfect.

Until Jesus

Jesus lived a sinless life, and thus was the one man in all of history who did not need to offer a sacrifice.

So he offered himself as the sacrifice.

For us.

There is no way to adequately explain Christ’s sacrifice; certainly not in these few words.  My Bible covers it in about 2000 pages, and I still don’t fully get it.  So let’s rest in these words from Paul:

God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God  (2 Corinthians 5:21).

In Christ, you are righteous; in him, you are righteousness.  I can’t get my brain around that, but I know I want it.

Do you want it, Beloved?

Then take it

Happy Thursday, Beloved

“The time is coming,” declares the LORD, “when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah.  It will not be like the covenant I made with their forefathers when I took them by the hand to lead them out of Egypt, because they broke my covenant, though I was a husband to them,” declares the LORD.” (Jeremiah 31:31-34)

Most Christian churches take communion on a regular basis.  If you have been part of a church for many years, you can probably recite Paul’s words from memory

“The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread…”

How many times have you eaten the bread…or cracker, and sipped the wine…or juice?  What does it all mean?

The first communion took place during the Passover, a reminder of the Old Covenant.  The Passover celebrated the night that God supernaturally broke the power of the Egyptians over the Hebrews.  He established a covenant with them, promising that he would be Israel’s God, and they would be his people.

Always.

For the most part, people in today’s world deal with each other through contracts.  A contract is a business relationship between partners.  Each side has obligations to and expectations of the other.  If these obligations and expectations are not met, the contract is broken, and the terms become invalid.  The people who were wronged by the violation of the contract can seek justice through an impartial third party, the court.

A covenant? Well, that’s more like family.  When my children were little, I gave them rules to follow, but those rules were for their benefit as much as, or more than, for mine.  If they violated those rules I disciplined them, but they did not cease to be my children.  My covenant with my children to love and support them as their father remained, even if, from time to time, they didn’t live up to their end of the bargain.

Which they didn’t

Because they were children

Jesus brought his disciples, and all of us, a new covenant.  This covenant was not based in rules, but in relationship—in the person of Jesus himself.

Think about the relationships in your life.  Do they feel more like covenants, or contracts?  What about your relationship with God?  Do you feel like you are under the grace of his covenant, or like you are bound to a contract which you cannot possibly fulfill?

You are a child of the covenant, Beloved.  He makes the promise.  He paid the price.  All you need to do is accept the grace that he offers.

Walk in that grace today.

Happy Wednesday, Beloved

I offered my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard; I did not hide my face from mocking and spitting (Isaiah 50:6).                          

They divide my garments among them and cast lots for my clothing (Psalm 22:18).

Dogs have surrounded me; a band of evil men has encircled me, they have pierced my hands and my feet (Psalm 22:16).

And I will pour out on the house of David and the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of grace and supplication.  They will look on me, the one they have pierced, and they will mourn for him as one mourns for a firstborn son (Zechariah 12:10).

He knew what was coming.  

He knew he would die to pay the price for our sins.  He also knew that more than death would be involved.   There would be pain and humiliation and loneliness.  The soldiers slapped him around.  They laughed at him.  They dressed him up to look like a petty king, complete with a crown of thorns.  They took his clothes. They spat on him.

And he took it.  For you.  For me.

The key is to remember that Jesus was not surprised by any of this.  He didn’t accidentally let his guard down.  He didn’t get caught up in circumstances beyond his control.  

There are no circumstances beyond his control.  

As he spent this day teaching in the temple, he was moving purposefully and steadily toward the pain that waited for him.   At any point along the way, Jesus could have said, “I’m done!” 

He chose to wait until he could say, “It is finished.”

The spiritual accomplishments of the Cross are so monumental that sometimes we forget about the physical agony Christ endured both after his arrest and on the Cross.  Remember it today, Beloved.  Remember what he suffered, and why.  And don’t ever, in all the days ahead, wonder if you are worthy of any good thing.

You, Beloved, are worth dying for.

Happy Tuesday

…for zeal for your house consumes me, and the insults of those who insult you fall on me (Psalm 69:9).

Jesus entered the city and went up to the temple.  It was Passover, the biggest holiday of the Jewish year, so the joint was really jumping.  Many people had come from a long way away to be part of the celebration.  Rather than transport all the animals you would need for the various sacrifices, it was normal and acceptable to buy what you needed when you got to Jerusalem.  The customary practice was for vendors to set up shop at a convenient place near the temple.

What Jesus saw when he arrived was dramatically different. The vendors had their booths and tables set up in the temple itself.  They were operating in an area called the Outer Court, the only place in the temple where non-Jews could come to worship God.  There they were, selling animals and changing foreign currency into local currency, and just generally carrying on noisy business, all while people were trying to worship.

Jesus was furious.  He knocked over the tables and chased the vendors out of there.  John even says that Jesus made a whip and used it to drive the blasphemers away.  He yelled at them, saying, “It is written, ‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’ but you are making it a ‘den of robbers!’”

This is not the meek and mild Jesus we think of from Sunday School flannel boards.

He is not holding a lamb on his shoulders.

He does not have little kids crawling all over him.

He is not smiling.

This is the Messiah, the Lion of Judah.  This is a man of righteous integrity, protecting the purity of his father’s house.

Do the insults of those who insult God fall on you?  There are a lot of people out there who mock Jesus, and this is a prime season for it.  Does that bother you, Beloved?  What are you doing about it?  Do you stand for Christ in your daily world?  Look, I’m not calling you to grab a whip and chase the heathen out of town—of course if you do, please send me pictures and I’ll post them.

There is no sitting for Christ.  You stand, or you fall.

Stand for him today, Beloved.

Happy Monday

Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion!  Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem!  See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey (Zechariah 9:9).

O Lord, save us; O Lord, grant us success.  

Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.

From the house of the Lord we bless you.

The Lord is God, and he has made his face shine upon us.

With boughs in hand, join in the festal procession up to the horns of the altar (Psalm 118:25-27).

Jesus was arriving in Jerusalem for the Passover.  This week would be the climax of his ministry, and would represent the very reason he came to live among us.  The time had come to declare himself the Messiah.  (“Messiah,” by the way, is a Hebrew word that means “anointed one,” or “chosen one.”  The same word is translated “Christ” in the Greek.)

So, Jesus did what anyone would do—he sent for a donkey.

This really does make sense.  Zechariah had prophesied that the Messiah would arrive as a king, and would come to claim his throne riding on a donkey.  By arriving in this manner, Jesus was sending an unmistakable signal to the crowds.  Now, I know that a donkey is not the manliest of animals…certainly not very king-like.  But to the Hebrews, the donkey was significant.  A king used a stallion when he rode to war, but a donkey when he came in peace.  Thus, Jesus came as the King of Peace, to make peace between man and God.

The crowds loved it.  They spread cloaks and leafy branches on the ground for Jesus to ride upon—sort of a red carpet treatment.  They cried out “Hosanna!” which means, “Save us,” and, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”  They were quoting Psalm 118, essentially acknowledging Jesus as Messiah and pledging themselves to him.

Crowds are so fickle.

As he descended the Mount of Olives, Jerusalem was spread out before him.  Jesus wept over the city, knowing that, though they praised him at that moment, they would soon turn on him.

Do you praise him, Beloved?  I know you pray, and you study his word—at least you’re reading this—but when was the last time you threw your head back, spread your arms wide, and declared your love for the King of your heart?

You know what?  Don’t worry about the last time.  When will be the next time?

How about now?

Happy Sunday, Beloved