A Life Worthy

Strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered, and I will turn my hand against the little ones (Zechariah 13:7b).

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 (Isaiah 53:6).

Everybody loves you when you’re winning.

What happened to the crowds?  Was it just last Sunday that the people were lining the streets, cheering for Jesus?  Now where are they?

Gone.

When the soldiers came for Jesus, the disciples scattered.  John followed, but at a distance. He needed to know what was happening, but he couldn’t bring himself to intervene.

Peter, like John, followed at a distance.  He mingled with the crowd, where he could blend in and, hopefully, go unnoticed.  While he was standing with a group, a servant girl recognized him. Here was Peter’s chance to stand tall for Christ.  Here was his golden opportunity to proclaim his loyalty to Jesus and stand with him—die with him, if need be. After all, that is what he had promised Jesus.

What did he do?  You know what he did.  He denied his Lord. Big, strong Peter couldn’t stand up to the questions of the lowliest servant girl.

What of the rest?  All we know is that they ran for it.

Don’t be too hard on the disciples.  I’m convinced they genuinely believed that they were up to the challenge.  When Peter said he would never betray Jesus, I think he meant it down to the marrow of his bones.  He didn’t have the courage, because he was only human. Like us. We know that John, and Mary, and a few others came to the cross before Jesus died; Jesus even spoke to John from the cross. But in the end, Jesus had to fulfill his purpose himself.

In the end, Jesus went to the cross alone.

He went to the grave alone.

He rose from the dead alone.

Because he had to.  That was the point—if anyone else could have done it, if anyone else could have helped, we wouldn’t have needed the perfect Son of God.

Jesus stood alone so that you will never have to.

Because he loves you.

You.

Walk in thankfulness today, 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—pretty much everyone.

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 sprinkle 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

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).

I’m jumping ahead a little in the narration today.  You see, as Jesus went through this final week of his earthly life, 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 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 ended this. 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

Note: I’m pausing Ephesians as we celebrate Holy Week.  Not that every week isn’t holy, but you know what I mean. 

Palm Sunday

The Triumphal Entry

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 noblest 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—after all, 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