The Mission of the Impeccable Christ Illustrated

Last week I highlighted the scandalous nature of the gospel. There, we saw that the gospel is scandalous in that not only is righteous, innocent Jesus condemned to die, but also, via his cross and his resurrection, Jesus sets the guilty free and makes the guilty righteous. We see this scandalous gospel live and in living color in a familiar narrative: when Jesus is condemned and Barabbas is set free. To draw out the scandal, we will follow Matthew and consider Barabbas’ notorious or well-known reputation (Matthew 27:16) over against Jesus’ reputation. Then we will consider the great exchange of the notorious sinner and the impeccably righteous Jesus. And finally, we will revel in the hope this offers us.

 

Barabbas Is Notorious for Sin

Mark notes that Barabbas, is imprisoned, “among the rebels…who had committed murder in the insurrection” (Mark 15:6–7). Luke observes that Barabbas “had been thrown in prison for an insurrection started in the city and for murder” (Luke 23:19). John says he was a robber (John 18:40). This term robber in the biblical context, is often associated violence. In the OT, it is associated with raiding bandits or highwaymen and with all manner of sin, including murder (Hosea 7:1; Obadiah 5; Jeremiah 7:8–11). So what is Barabbas notorious for? Barabbas is notorious for being a violent rebel against authority. Indeed, he could even be notorious for instigating or fomenting violent insurrection (Luke 23:19). Barabbas is notorious for murder. Barabbas is notorious for robbery. In short, Barabbas is notorious for sin—sin against God and sin against his fellowman.

Now consider Jesus.

 

Jesus Is Notorious for Righteousness

A survey of the gospels make clear what Jesus is well-known or notorious for in his context. Jesus is notorious for healing the sick. Jesus is notorious for making the lame walk. Jesus is notorious for opening blind eyes and deaf ears. Jesus is notorious for exercising divine, miraculous, physics-defying authority over nature. Jesus is notorious for feeding the hungry. Jesus is notorious for casting out demons. Jesus is notorious for raising the dead. Jesus is notorious for exposing and confronting injustice and sin. Jesus is notorious for forgiving sin. In short, Jesus is notorious for his righteousness.

 

The Great Exchange

Here in this prisoner swap of Barabbas and Jesus, we see the gospel. The notoriously sinful Barabbas goes free. And the notoriously righteous Jesus is condemned. Barabbas is guilty. Barabbas should have died on that cross. But Barabbas’ sentence is commuted. Barabbas goes free. Barabbas is considered not guilty and treated as such. On the other hand, Jesus is innocent. Jesus should have gone free and lived. But Jesus’ perfectly righteous, innocent life is condemned. Jesus is considered guilty and is treated as such. This picture of the gospel ultimately breaks down, though. And this is where the scandalous nature of the gospel that we highlighted last week bursts forth even more.

 

The Even More Scandalous Gospel: The Impeccable Jesus Becomes Sin and You Become Impeccably Righteous

In this scene of Barabbas being set free, we only get a picture of the true gospel reality. Why? How? Well, what does everyone else recognize about Barabbas when he goes free? What is still true of him? He is still guilty. His guilt remains. Barabbas is only being considered and treated as not guilty. But he is inherently guilty. That is where this picture breaks down. Because what does the gospel say? The gospel of Jesus Christ says this, “Not only are you free, but you are righteous!” And we are tempted to say, “No I am guilty! Look at what I’ve done!” The gospel’s responds, “Righteous!” In the gospel of Jesus Christ, we are not only free, our sentence is not simply commuted, but we are declared righteous and transformed into the very righteousness of God: For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5:21). And there is more.

Jesus worked righteousness but he also never sinned. And not only did Jesus always overcome temptation and sin, but Jesus was also incapable of sinning. Jesus was impeccable. Theologian William Shedd describes Jesus’ impeccability as his being able to not only overcome temptation, but also his being unable to be overcome by temptation.[1] And through his substitutionary atonement, by becoming the curse for us (Galatians 3:13), by becoming our sin on the cross, Jesus completely paid our debt (Colossians 3:14). Jesus gave his life as a ransom so that we might become the righteousness of God (Mark 10:45; 2 Corinthians 5:21). So because of Jesus’ work, we are like, are becoming like, and will become like him (Romans 8:29; 2 Corinthians 3:18; 1 John 3:2). This is a monumental promise and unfading hope for those in Jesus. The sin that we continue to struggle with, even in our divinely declared righteous state, will end. We will one day be free from all remnants of our sinful flesh. Sin will no longer exist, and we will be unable to sin. Impeccable Jesus’ mission was and is to make us impeccable.

 

Enduring Hope

When we see notoriously sinful Barabbas walking free and notoriously righteous, impeccable Jesus condemned to die, we see the gospel. But we also know that the gospel is even better than what that limited scene communicates. We were like Barabbas in that scene. But where Barabbas remained guilty, we in Jesus are being made impeccably righteous. Impeccable Jesus’ mission was to make you and me impeccable. Mission accomplished. We walk in that reality imperfectly now, but we will see that reality perfectly fulfilled when he returns. For this reason we cry, “Come, Lord Jesus.”

[1] William G.T. Shedd, Dogmatic Theology, ed. Alan W. Gomes, Third Edition. (Phillipsburg, N.J.: P&R Publishing, 2005), 659, https://heritagebooks.org/products/dogmatic-theology-third-edition-shedd.html.

The Scandalous Gospel

In D.A. Carson’s 2010 book Scandalous: The Cross and Resurrection of Jesus, he observes four ironies of the cross: (1) At the cross Jesus the King is mocked as king, (2) At the cross Jesus is utterly powerless, though he is powerful, (3) At the cross Jesus can’t save himself but saves others, and (4) At the cross Jesus cries out in despair but trusts in God. These ironies at the cross begin to get at the nature of the scandal of the crucifixion of Jesus. Something that is scandalous is something that shocks our sense of propriety or even seems to fly in the face of our collective sense of morality. Perhaps the sentence that most directly expresses the irony and the scandal of the entire reality of the cross is, “Imagine anything as scandalous as a crucified Messiah!” (139). A savior, let alone a savior who is meant to not only deliver but reign forever as King, should not die helplessly. This is scandalous. Well, keep in mind that this overall scandalous event is multifaceted in its implications with regard to our salvation. There are details that must be teased out and understood to fully appreciate what God has done for us in the cross of Jesus. And be warned, these details are also quite scandalous.

I want to highlight three scandalous details of the gospel.

 

Jesus the Righteous Condemned as Guilty

We cannot recognize the scandal of the cross without recognizing the righteousness of Jesus. Jesus was without sin. He was the only man with “clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false and does not swear deceitfully” (Psalm 24:4; 1 Peter 2:22). He was and is the only man who can ascend the mountain of the YHWH (Psalm 24:3). But not only was Jesus sinless in his earthly life. Jesus was also perfectly righteous in his works. “He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil” (Acts 10:38). Jesus was revealed to be and found to be righteous, innocent, and guiltless before men (Matthew 27:19; 23; Mark 15:14; Luke 23:4; John 18:38). And yet, righteous, innocent Jesus was condemned as guilty and crucified. This is scandalous. And the even more shocking reality is that Jesus the righteous actually became the very opposite of righteousness at the cross. He who knew no sin became sin (2 Corinthians 5:21). This is scandalous.

 

The Guilty Set Free

Built into the OT promise of the coming Messiah was that he would “proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of prison to those who are bound” (Isaiah 61:1). Jesus came to fulfill this prophesy (Luke 4:18). Guilty man lay bound, imprisoned, and enslaved by sin (Galatians 3:22; Romans 6:17). In reality, man’s enslavement and imprisonment to sin is his own doing. Man is rightly imprisoned under sin because man is guilty! But Jesus came to set the guilty sinner free through the forgiveness of sin (Romans 6:7, 18, 22).  At the cross, Jesus breaks the chains of the guilty sinner, and he sets the guilty free. This is scandalous.

 

The Guilty Made Righteous

Perhaps one of the more shocking realities of the gospel is that those who are guilty are actually transformed into the opposite. At the cross, the guilty are not set free simply because they were suddenly found to actually be innocent, as if the original conviction was based on faulty evidence. At the cross, the guilty are not set free and, yet, despite their freedom, still considered inherently guilty in the eyes of God and man, as if a sentence were merely commuted. The cross is more shocking than this. At the cross, the guilty are actually made righteous (2 Corinthians 5:21). Jesus’ righteousness becomes the guilty’s righteousness. God does not look at the guilty in the courtroom of his divine judgment and say, “You’re free to go, but still guilty!” God does not look at the guilty and say, “I find you not guilty because there is not enough evidence to convict.” God does not look at the guilty and say, “You are guilty, but I will simply consider you not guilty.” Rather, for those in Christ, God looks at the guilty in the courtroom of his divine judgment, and looking at the cross of Jesus he says, “Not guilty. And not only are you not guilty, but you are actually righteous!” This is scandalous.

 

The Scandalous Gospel, Our Salvation

In the gospel, Jesus the righteous and innocent, became sin by dying on the cross in the place of the guilty in order to both set the guilty sinner free and make the guilty righteous. This gospel is scandalous. But for the Christian, this scandalous gospel is our salvation, and it is glorious.

Jesus Is the Christ: A Halfway Healing and a Halfway Confession

In Mark 8:22–26, we see Jesus heal a blind man at Bethsaida. Interestingly, Jesus doesn’t completely heal him all at once. Instead, Jesus heals him in stages. Recall the story:

And they came to Bethsaida. And some people brought to him a blind man and begged him to touch him. And he took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village, and when he had spit on his eyes and laid his hands on him, he asked him, “Do you see anything?” And he looked up and said, “I see people, but they look like trees, walking.” Then Jesus laid his hands on his eyes again; and he opened his eyes, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly. And he sent him to his home, saying, “Do not even enter the village.”

Jesus lays his hands on the man the first time and only halfway heals. Only after this first stage of healing does Jesus then fully heal the man. What gives? Why does this miracle play out in this way? Is this just a harder case? Or, is it a problem with Jesus’ power—was Jesus just not quite feeling it that day? Well, I think we can eliminate those options. In fact, it might be helpful to first point out what is not happening here based on what Mark has revealed about Jesus.

 

Not a Harder Case

This is not just a harder case. Mark has shown Jesus to have absolute authority and power over demons, disease, nature, and even sin and death (Mark 1:25–26, 34, 40–42; 2:5, 8–12; 3:1–6; 4:35–41; 5:1–20, 21–43; 6:30–52; etc.). In fact, every miracle up to this point that Jesus has performed has been instantaneous. No matter how you rank the difficulty level of these cases here—of course, sin and death are the obvious choices of “most difficult” though, but you knew that—none have stood up to Jesus’ authority. Therefore, we can eliminate the notion that this is just a harder case.

 

Not a Problem with Power

This does not indicate a problem with Jesus’ power. Mark has made clear at the outset that Jesus is the Son of God.

The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. (Mark 1:1)

The same logic we applied above to the first question (Is this a harder case?) applies here as well. Jesus has indicated by his actions that he operates with divine authority. Demons, disease, nature, and death all bend to his will. Jesus himself reveals by his self-proclaimed title the Son of Man that he is the one who receives all authority and dominion straight from God, the Ancient of Days himself (Mark 2:10; 28; cf. Daniel 7:13–14). This two-stage healing, then, does not point to a problem with Jesus’ power.

 

A Problem with Faith

So it is not a more difficult case and Jesus is not having a problem with power here. In fact, Jesus has shown nothing but absolute authority and control up to this point. So based on this, what is going on? Well, the logical conclusion is that Jesus, who has all power and all divine authority, must be in control here as well. That is, he must be doing this on purpose. Why? Because there is a problem present here. The problem is faith.

This faith problem is not Jesus’, and it is not the blind man’s. The faith problem is the disciples’ faith problem. Unlike most of us, Jesus is an extraordinary multi-tasker. Here, Jesus is not just compassionately addressing the issue of this man’s blindness, he is also compassionately addressing the issue of his disciples’ lack of faith in him. In fact, just a few verses before Jesus rebukes the disciples for unbelief and asks

Having eyes do you not see, and having ears do you not hear?… (Mark 8:18)

The point is driven home even further by the fact that right before saying this, Jesus healed a deaf and mute man (Mark 7:31–37). That point is this: the disciples are spiritually like this blind man. They see Jesus, but not clearly, not fully. They don’t fully grasp who he is and what he has come to do. They don’t fully believe in him for who he is…yet. Peter illustrates this spiritual reality in the very next scene.

 

A Confession and A Rebuke

Immediately on the heels of this miracle, Jesus poses the question of the ages to his disciples: “Who do you say that I am?” (Mark 8:29). Peter, ever eager, gives an answer that proves to be the confession of the ages: “You are the Christ” (Mark 8:29). Peter at the very least believes that Jesus is the promised son of David who would restore the kingdom of Israel, rout their enemies, and reign on the throne as king in justice and righteousness (2 Samuel 7:12–13; Isaiah 9:6–7). He might even have a sense of this king’s special nature in that in some way he would be considered God’s son (2 Samuel 7:14; 1 Chronicles 17:13). And he might have a sense that his reign, his kingdom would endure forever in some way shape or form (2 Samuel 7:13; Chronicles 17:12, 14). Perhaps he believes his throne would endure forever through an unbreakable line of kings that followed. Regardless of the full extent of Peter’s knowledge here, Peter knows the promise of the coming Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed, a son of David who would restore God’s kingdom and be king. And Peter confesses that Jesus is the Christ. But in what follows, it becomes clear that Peter gives a halfway confession. That is, Peter does not fully know the way the Christ will restore the kingdom. He only sees partially in that he does not understand the messianic mission. There is more to this confession than Peter knows.

After Peter’s confession, Jesus begins to teach them the path he, the Son of Man, the Christ, must take to the throne. And power in any earthly sense does not mark this path. Pain marks this path.

And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes and be killed, and after three days rise again. (Mark 8:31)

This does not fit into Peter’s category for the Christ. So he immediately takes Jesus aside and begins to rebuke him. This earns him nothing but an even fiercer rebuke from Jesus.

He [Jesus] rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.”

Peter only halfway sees who Jesus is as the Christ and what Jesus will do as the Christ. Peter does not fully see that the Messiah has come to destroy sin and Satan, not earthly enemies (1 John 3:8). And Peter does not fully see the way that the Christ will do it—through suffering. The Christ is the suffering servant of Isaiah 53.

 

The Christ Suffers in order to Save

Jesus makes clear that you cannot confess him as the Christ who saves without confessing him as the Christ who suffers in order to save. Jesus the Christ “was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3). “He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities” (Isaiah 53:5). “Yet it was the will of the LORD to crush him” (Isaiah 53:10). Because, as the perfectly righteous one, he will “make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities” (Isaiah 53:11). Jesus the Christ, “bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors” (Isaiah 53:12).

Peter’s ignorance and partial spiritual eyesight is on full display here. But the Christ would not leave him in his partial blindness and halfway confession. Indeed, it is the very path Peter disagrees with, that ends up saving him and restoring his sight. Because the Christ suffered, was rejected, was killed, and rose, Peter’s “sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly.” Jesus heals Peter’s half sight so he that he no longer holds to a half confession. There is no confessing Christ without confessing the suffering, rejection, death, and resurrection of the Christ. Don’t take my word for it, take Peter’s.

“Men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man attested to you by God with mighty works and wonders and signs that God did through him in your midst, as you yourselves know—this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men. God raised him up, loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it…Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.”

Jesus is the Christ. And he is the Christ who suffers in order to save his people. Like Peter and the rest of the disciples, we were spiritual blind, but the Christ has come in order to restore our sight. And while our battle with this sinful flesh will often blur our vision again, the promise of the Christ is that through his suffering, rejection, death, and resurrection, he will save us. He will restore our sight fully, and we will behold the son of David, the Son of God, reign forever over God’s kingdom that never ends. And our lips will utter this confession in all it fullness: Jesus is the Christ.

The Heart of a Disciple

[I’ve adapted this post from a sermon on Mark 4:1–20 titled “The Mystery of the Kingdom” that I preached April 2, 2023]

Jesus is the “founder of our faith” (Heb 12:2). Jesus is both the savior and the model of our faith. He made us his disciples through the cross. And as his disciples, we seek to be with and be like Jesus. We seek to bear fruit just as he did. Thus, discipleship begins at the cross, and the heart of a disciple bears much fruit. What then does the heart of a disciple, the fruit bearing heart, look like?

In Mark 4:1–20, Jesus tells the parable of a sower and four different types of soils: (1) the path, (2) the rocky soil, (2) the thorny soil, and (4) the good soil. The sower sows the word of God and the different soils represent those who hear this word (Mark 4:14–20). The condition of the soil, that is, the condition of the hearts of those who hear, ultimately determines how the word is received and if it will produce fruit. While there are four different types of soils or hearts in the parable, there are really only two categories: hearts that do not produce fruit (the path, the rocky soil, and the thorny soil) and hearts that do produce fruit (good soil). In the heart of a true disciple, the word of God bears fruit (John 15:8). But what is the makeup or nature of this fruit bearing heart? By looking at the nature and condition of the three soils or hearts that do not produce fruit and asking the question, “What would be the opposite of this?”, we can determine the nature of good soil. That is, we can discern the defining marks of the heart of a true disciple of Jesus, a heart that bears the fruit of God’s word.

 

The Path

Mark 4:4—And as he sowed, some seed fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured it.

Mark 4: 15—And these are the ones along the path, where the word is sown: when they hear, Satan immediately comes and takes away the word that is sown in them.

The picture of the trodden, hard-packed, impenetrable path is that of the hard-hearted man. He hears the word, and rather than sinking into his heart, it sits on the surface. It never breaks through. Satan easily walks along the paths of this heart and takes up the word. And as a result, there is no fruit.

 

The Heart of a Disciple

What would be the opposite of this?

The heart of a true disciple of Jesus is a soft, tender heart. This heart lowers its defenses when the word is spoken, even if the word confronts deeply held notions, ideals, and values. This heart opens itself up to the truth of the word even if the word exposes sin, selfishness, and pride. The word pierces the heart of a disciple, and the gospel of Jesus sinks in deeply. In that heart, the word of God can bear much fruit.

 

The Rocky Soil

Mark 4:5–6—Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and immediately it sprang up, since it had no depth of soil. And when the sun rose, it was scorched, and since it had no root, it withered away.

Mark 4:16–17—And these are the ones sown on rocky ground: the ones who, when they hear the word, immediately receive it with joy. And they have no root in themselves, but endure for a while; then, when tribulation or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately they fall away.

The rocky ground represents those who hear the word of God and joyfully accept it. But the due to the condition and nature of this heart, the gospel doesn’t take deep root. Rather, the picture here joyful but shallow acceptance. The word is something that accessorizes this hearer’s life. It is helpful. It offers self-improvement. It’s something new and exciting. The hearer intellectually assents to it and enjoys its tight logic. But they only endure for a while. This is more literally translated “they are temporary.” Why are they and the word within them temporary? Because tribulation and persecution arises on account of what? The word. Suddenly the gospel that they enjoyed for its helpfulness is no longer helpful. It doesn’t seem to be leading to self-improvement but harm. Therefore they immediately fall away. Once the heat turns up on the hearer on account of the word whether socially, culturally, politically, etc., and they are out. Like a plant with no roots drying out under the scorching heat of the sun,  the word within this heart withers away when tribulation and persecution mount. And there is no fruit.

 

The Heart of a Disciple

What would be the opposite of this?

The heart of a true disciple of Jesus does not shallowly accept the word. For the true disciple, the word, the gospel is not simply a trinket. The heart of a disciple does not see the word as a helpful addition to their life. For the disciple the word is not a therapeutic path to self-improvement. The true disciple does not merely intellectually assent to the word. Rather, the heart of a disciple hides the word deeply within and gives ample room for it to take root. For the disciple, the word is a part of the very fabric of who they are. The heart of a disciple is bound up in union with Jesus and his gospel. Jesus and his gospel are treasured as an identity, not simply admired as a personal accessory. Thus, a true disciple endures through tribulation and persecution on account of the word because it is not just what they have, it is who they are. In that heart, the word of God can bear much fruit.

 

The Thorns

Mark 4:7— 7 Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain.

Mark 4:18–19—And others are the ones sown among thorns. They are those who hear the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches and the desires for other things enter in and choke the word, and it proves unfruitful.

The thorns are those who hear the word and accept it, only to have it choked by the world. Specifically, these receive the word, but due to three things it never bears fruit: (1) the cares of the world, (2) the deceitfulness of riches, and (3) the desires for other things.

 

The Cares of the World

In this heart, the word ultimately succumbs to the cares and anxieties of this temporary age. While all hearts battle anxiety to a degree, these anxieties enter into this heart and supplant the word. The key here is that these cares concern “the world” or “this temporary age.” This heart seeks to continually vie for and maintain control of all aspects of this age, without looking to God’s sovereignty or the coming age of eternity. This age, this world, ultimately holds sway over the affections of this heart rather than the gospel and God’s eternal kingdom. And it leads to anxieties and cares on all fronts. The cares concerning the things of this world and this earthly life strangle the gospel, and there is no fruit.

 

The Deceitfulness of Riches

How are riches deceptive? Well, the word “riches” in Scripture is telling. “Riches” in the NT refers primarily to God and the treasure he offers in Christ rather than to earthly, material wealth (Rom 2:4, 23; 11:12, 33; Eph 1:7; 2:7; 3:8, 16; Phil 4:19; Col 1:27; 2:2–3; Heb 11:26; Rev 5:12). Our earthly, material understanding of riches, then, is really a twisted, counterfeit to the real thing. Earthly riches hold out the promise of security and happiness while true security and happiness are found only in the richness of God. The thorny heart embraces the deceitfulness of earthly riches, and the result is the word is choked. And there is no fruit.

 

The Desires for Other Things

Finally, the thorns are the desires, that is, the “lusts” the “cravings” for other things. If the first two thorns don’t cover everything, this last one certainly does. It’s a catch-all. This is every Satanic, evil, fleshly, worldly passion that James 1:14–15 says gives birth not to fruit of the Spirit, but fruit of the flesh—sin! These desires and lusts override the desire for God’s word, and they choke it out. And there is no fruit.

 

The Heart of a Disciple

What is the opposite of this?

The heart of a disciple desires and embraces God’s sovereign rule over this age. Humility marks the heart of a disciple. When anxieties abound and threaten, this heart lays down it’s pride. As 1 Peter 5:6–7 instructs, disciples, “humble themselves under the mighty hand of God.” How? “By casting all their anxieties on him.” In that heart, the word of God can bear much fruit.

 The heart of a disciple desires God above worldly riches. The heart of a disciple finds the treasure of the gospel in a field and goes and sells everything to buy that field (Matt 13:44). The heart of a disciple considers reproach and rejection on account of Christ of greater wealth than all the treasure of Egypt. It is a heart that looks to the reward of God in eternity (Heb 11:26). In that heart, the word of God can bear much fruit.

 The heart of a disciple desires God above worldly riches. It desires God above worldly pleasures. The heart of a disciple seeks to “not gratify the desires of the flesh” (Gal 5:16). It is a heart that has “crucified the flesh with its passions and desire” (Gal 5:24). It’s a heart that desires nothing more than to “be with Christ” (Phil 1:23). It’s a heart that desire to be in God’s presence where there is fullness of joy and pleasures forevermore (Psalm 16:11). In that heart, the word of God can bear much fruit.

 

Conclusion

The heart of a disciple is a heart in which the word bears fruit. In that heart the word sinks deeply, hidden and guarded from the enemy, becomes an identity by establishing robust roots to endure, and is embraced, desired, and treasured above all the world has to offer. In that heart, the word bears much fruit. We can only do this because the founder of our faith did it first. As the Living Word, he cherished God’s word and was perfectly obedient to it even unto death. And like a grain of wheat that falls into the earth and dies in order to produce a harvest, Jesus in his death bore abundant fruit (John 12:24). Discipleship begins at the cross, and the heart of a disciple bears much fruit, just as Jesus did. You, Christian, are a part of Christ’s harvest. Let us then follow in the footsteps of the founder of our faith. Let us have the hearts of true disciples that holdfast to the word and bear much fruit.

Sin and Confession

[This Sunday in our journey through the book of Psalms we reach the prayer of confession David prayed after committing both adultery and murder. We will only briefly review on Sunday the events leading up to this confession; here are edited excerpts from a sermon preached twenty years ago from that narrative. You can read the entire sermon – preached at the height of the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal – at this link. The four principles are taken from a sermon by Gary Vanderet – Coty]

The political leader of a great nation commits adultery and murder; an accuser then stands before him and confronts him with his sin. How does that political leader react? What insights does this give us into the nature of sin? We’ll learn four key principles about sin as we follow the story in 2 Samuel 11 and 12.

One clear night King David is out on the roof of his palace, looking down on his capital. He must be feeling some sense of pride and accomplishment when he notices a movement on another, lower roof. A lantern; water splashing. David peers and sees — a woman undressing, then bathing. He notices her great beauty.

Now, David already has multiple wives; if he simply wanted to engage in sexual relations, he had several women to choose from. But I suggest this was part of the problem, not part of the solution. Instead of following God’s intention that one man should be united in marriage with one woman in a one flesh relationship, David has followed the pattern of other prosperous men in the surrounding nations, indulging his sexual appetites by bringing attractive women into his harem. Indulgence inevitably leads not to satisfaction but to more and more indulgence.

So David figures this will be one more case of the same, one more beautiful woman for the harem. He inquires about her — but doesn’t get the answer he wants. He supposes this young woman to be unmarried, but not only is she married — her husband is one of David’s most loyal men, Uriah.

David now has a choice; either to commit adultery, explicitly breaking one of the Ten Commandments, and cuckolding one of his best friends — or to control himself. David chooses adultery.

Think about this: God uses David as a type of Christ, a foreshadowing of Jesus; God has called him a man after His own heart (1 Samuel 13:14). David himself has written “I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart” (Psalm 40:8). Yet David violates that very law, explicitly, knowingly. Why?

Here we come to our first principle: Sin always deceives. Sin always promises something it cannot deliver. When we hear such promises, we are tempted to give in, to accept the deception and justify our actions. David must have done that; he knows he is doing wrong, but he tries to justify himself, perhaps by saying

  • “It’s only one night — I can go back to delighting in God’s law tomorrow;” or,
  • “She’s willing — we’re just consenting adults;” or,
  • “No one is hurt by this; Uriah will never know; indeed, no one will ever know;” or,
  • “Think of all I’ve done for this country; surely I deserve this one little fling!”

Have you ever heard such temptations? Satan is the deceiver, a liar and the father of lies, and he uses similar lies with all of us. Satan presents sin to us as the way to life, the way to enjoyment, the way to fulfillment — when really it is the way to death and destruction. Satan persuades us that engaging in sin will fulfill our desires, when sin gives satisfaction only to our least important desires, and that only briefly, leaving us dying for true love, for true joy, and for true peace. Sin always deceives.

David and Bathsheba have their fling, and she returns home. Weeks pass. David doesn’t see her again, and figures it is all over. Then one day he receives a message: “David, I’m pregnant.” Now, Uriah has been away from Jerusalem for months; when Bathsheba’s belly starts to grow, her adultery will be evident to all. According to the law, she should then be stoned — along with her accomplice (Leviticus 20:10).

David tries to think quick: “Let’s see, this many weeks have passed. It’s not too unusual for children to be born several weeks early. If I can just get Uriah home, he and Bathsheba will have sexual relations. Surely no one will raise questions then.”

So David has Joab send Uriah home. He and David discuss the war; then David encourages him to go home. But Uriah does not do so, telling David the next day,

“The ark and Israel and Judah are staying in tents, and my master Joab and my lord’s men are camped in the open fields. How could I go to my house to eat and drink and lie with my wife? As surely as you live, I will not do such a thing!” (2 Samuel 11:11)

Uriah’s statement must have cut David to the quick. Uriah has not seen his wife for months, but will not even visit her. What a contrast to David, who should have been out in the field with the army, but instead chose to indulge his sensual appetites — and to do that not with his own wives, but with the wife of this most loyal subordinate.

David proceeds to get him drunk that evening, hoping that this will overcome his loyalty, and that he will then sleep with Bathsheba. But even a drunk Uriah shows considerably more restraint that a sober David; Uriah does not go home. He sleeps on a mat at the palace with David’s servants.

So David has to come up with Plan B, and a monstrous plan it is. He writes a letter instructing Joab, the commander, to put Uriah in the front lines and then have the other soldiers abandon him. And then David has Uriah carry instructions for his own execution — because he trusts him! He knows this loyal servant will never think of opening the letter. This is murder, plain and simple.

Joab is more crafty than David, and manages to have Uriah killed without causing soldiers to ask questions. But the deed is done.

So what started as a one night stand, as a consensual relationship between two people, has led to destruction and death. And the destruction and death are far from over, as we will see. This is our second principle: Sin always destroys. Sin destroys our relationships to man and God, sin destroys what is best in us, sin destroys whatever we love most.

Don’t listen to anyone who tries to tell you that there is a sin that hurts no one. Sin always destroys.

Bathsheba mourns for her husband, and then moves into the palace as David’s wife. She grows great with child — and everyone in the palace is able to count. Everyone knows that Uriah had come home but never saw his wife. So at least the palace insiders know exactly what happened. Behind the king’s back, people are talking. But David pretends that this is a natural occurrence, that he is doing his old friend a favor by taking care of his widow. Bathsheba gives birth to a healthy boy — and to David all seems well. It looks like he has gotten away with adultery and murder.

However, “the thing David had done displeased the LORD.” (2 Samuel 11:27)

God acts by sending the prophet Nathan to David. He tells the king a story about a rich man who stole a pet lamb from a neighbor to prepare a meal for a guest. David is incensed, saying “As surely as the LORD lives, the man who did this deserves to die!” (2 Samuel 12:5). Nathan replies, “You are the man!” He continues speaking God’s words to David:

“I anointed you king over Israel, and I delivered you from the hand of Saul. I gave your master’s house to you, and your master’s wives into your arms. I gave you the house of Israel and Judah. And if all this had been too little, I would have given you even more. Why did you despise the word of the LORD by doing what is evil in his eyes?” (2 Samuel 12:7b-9a)

David thought all was covered up; he pretended that no one knew. Well, other people did know, but more importantly, God knew. God always knows.

This is our third principle: Sin is always discovered. In the long run, there are no secret sins. As Jesus Himself states, “There is nothing covered up that will not be revealed, and hidden that will not be known. (Luke 12:2)

Satan tempts us to believe that no one will ever know, that we can hide our sin; Satan is so effective in this that many of us are lying to ourselves, thinking that our sins are known only to us, thinking that we have succeeded in covering our tracks. But God sees all; everything is laid bare before his eyes; God will not be mocked. Sin is always discovered.

What is David’s reaction? Does he try to justify himself? Does he attack his accuser? Does he argue that Nathan shouldn’t have brought up the matter, saying, “This is private, and none of your business. Leave me alone! Let me deal with this among my wives and children!” No. David confesses simply, “I have sinned against the LORD.”

No excuses. No attempt to mitigate the seriousness of the sin. So Nathan replies immediately, “The Lord has taken away your sin.” This is our fourth principle: Confessed sin is always forgiven.

What is the nature of true confession? We can identify three characteristics from Psalm 51, David’s song of repentance, written on this occasion:

 (1) True confession addresses all those affected by the sin.

This was not a private matter between David and Bathsheba, or David and Uriah’s relatives. The king sinned, and all Israel suffered. So David must confess before all Israel.

(2) True confession admits that punishment is justified

We must be broken and contrite when we come before God and those we have sinned against; we must not downplay our sin or blame the other person, but admit that we deserve judgment.

(3) True confession depends on God’s mercy alone.

David calls out for God to act in accordance with his unfailing love, in accordance with his great mercy. He calls out to God to cleanse him, to wash him, and then — since the external washing is not sufficient — to change his very heart, to create a new heart within him.

David deserved death for his sin, both the ending of his life on earth and eternal separation from God. God forgave him; those of us who are saved will join David in praising God eternally, and David did not die on earth in punishment for adultery and murder.

But note that there were other temporal consequences of David’s sin. The judgment that Nathan states prior to David’s confession still holds. Israel and, in particular, David’s family suffer immensely from this sin. And Uriah remains dead. Forgiveness does not imply the absence of temporal consequences for sin. But, praise God, when we come to God with broken and contrite hearts, when we call out to God pleading for His mercy, when we depend only on the shed blood of Jesus to cover all our sins, God never turns his ear away. God always listens. Confessed sin is always forgiven.

So examine your own heart. Paul tells us, “If you think you are standing firm, take care that you don’t fall.” What sin are you knowingly engaged in? Are you loving the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your soul, and all your strength, and all your mind? Are you loving your neighbor as yourself?

My dear friends, sin always deceives. Sin always destroys. Sin is always discovered. Let us take the occasion of great sins by a great man to ask God with David:

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. (Psalm 139:23-24)

When He shows you the sin in your heart, confess it — and then know the joy of living a life blameless before Him. Confessed sin — Praise God! — is always forgiven, by the blood of Jesus.

 

 

Our Incurable Disease

You have an incurable disease. All humans do. We inherited this disease from our parents, and they from their parents – all the way back to Adam and Eve.

There is no human help for this disease. Oh, we can alleviate a few of the symptoms through discipline, through accountability, through learning more self-control – but this disease is similar to the hydra of Greek mythology. When anyone cut off one of the hydra’s heads, two more immediately grew. When you learn to control one part of your disease – say, bursts of anger – more symptoms of the disease pop up – say, pride and arrogance.

But God in His grace and mercy offers you a cure. The question is: Will you accept it?

Scripture provides us with an apt picture of the way we are prone to resist this cure through telling the story of a leper in 2 Kings 5.

In the ancient world, leprosy was incurable. Naaman, a general in a powerful army, comes down with this disease. An Israelite servant girl in his household tells his wife of a prophet in Israel who can cure the disease. So Naaman’s king writes a letter to the King of Israel, telling him to cure Naaman of his leprosy.

The Israelite king is distraught, thinking the other is looking for a pretense to go to war. But when the prophet Elisha hears of the events, he tells the king to send Naaman to him.

Naaman arrives at Elisha’s place, bearing many gifts – he is a wealthy man and thinks he can pay handsomely for this service. He is an important man, and thinks this prophet will be impressed by his presence.

But Elisha doesn’t even come out to see Naaman. He simply sends a messenger, who instructs the general to go wash in the Jordan River seven times, and he will be cured. Hear Naaman’s response:

But Naaman was angry and went away, saying, “Behold, I thought that he would surely come out to me and stand and call upon the name of the Lord his God, and wave his hand over the place and cure the leper. Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?” So he turned and went away in a rage (2 Kings 5:11-12).

Naaman’s pride almost causes him to miss this grace from God. But God shows him even greater grace, as He leads Naaman’s servants to appeal to him to try this simple task the prophet gave him. He washes seven times in the Jordan – and is cured.

Just so with us. God offers us healing of our incurable disease if we only turn to Jesus and trust Him with our lives. But so often we are like Naaman: We don’t like God’s plan. We want to prove our worth through some great deed we do for God. Or we want God to perform some grand visible miracle that will call attention to us. Or we want God to cure the disease in a different way, a way that seems better to us. “Just trust Jesus? Why? Why not some other way? Why not many other ways? How simplistic!”

Like Naaman, we can turn our backs and miss God’s grace because of our pride, because of our preconceived ideas about how God should work.

But praise God that He persists in the offer of the Gospel. As in Naaman’s case, He sends others to us to say again and again, “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved” (Acts 16:31).

Don’t despise the miracle of simple faith. Admit you are diseased. Confess that you cannot cure yourself. And throw yourself on God’s mercy offered to you through Jesus Christ.

When you, like Naaman, humble yourself before the One True God, He will save you – through the death, resurrection, and reign of the Lord Jesus Christ. And you will discover the love, joy, and peace you have so deeply desired.

Resurrection is Sweet, Death is Painful

[I wrote this devotion in Holy Week, 2006. I’m now older than the friend I call John was when he died. Don’t wait. – Coty]

This week we remember and celebrate the death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus. Resurrection is sweet. Death is painful.

Personally, the reality and pain of death have hit me twice this week. Tuesday, I flipped through the alumni magazine from my undergraduate alma mater, and found to my surprise that my freshman roommate Rick had died in February at the age of 50. This morning, after an out-of-the-blue internet search, I stumbled across the information that a friend and colleague from my days as an economist – whom I’ll call John – had died last July at the age of 61.

I had only seen my freshman roommate once since graduation – at a reunion a couple of years ago. I was much closer to John. While he and I never shared a room, we worked together for over a dozen years, co-authoring several papers, presenting at conferences together, and jointly running a Masters degree program in development economics. Even after my call to the ministry, he tried to hire me as an economist. Last April a recruiter called, attempting to entice me back into economics; I’m 99.9% sure John was behind that.

I looked up to John in many ways. He was the ideal development economist, with a solid grasp both of economic theory and of the real world issues facing poor countries. A father of four, he always made time in his busy schedule to be with his children. And they thrived – one became a Rhodes Scholar. His infectious enthusiasm spurred many around him to become more than they ever thought they could be. He was ready to listen and give feedback on a wide range of topics. We had not regularly spoken to each other these last four years, but knowing now that I can’t call him, that I will never again hear his encouraging voice and hearty laugh, is painful.

For, unless something changed in his last months of life, John did not believe in Jesus. He was quite spiritual in the postmodern American sense, and considered “spirituality” to be something that we shared – but he did not recognize Jesus as His Savior, Lord, and treasure.

This man and I sharpened each other professionally; we edited each other’s words; we each made the other a better economist; we discussed how to better serve our students, how to improve our institution; we talked about fathering and marriage and, yes, spiritual issues.

But today I only ask myself: What more should I have said? How could I have better lived out and communicated to him the beauty of our Savior – the glories of the One who died on a cross on Friday and rose from the dead on Sunday, who is seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty and who will come again . . . who will come again, this time to judge the living and the dead?

Life is short, my friends. O, life is short! Regardless of your efforts, you yourself may have only days left. (John was an athlete as a young man and kept himself in good physical condition all his life. Yet he died of a heart attack – while exercising.) Are you confident of your status before God the Father, the King of the Universe? Throw yourself on His mercy!

Are you His? Then spread a passion for His supremacy in all things! Don’t wait! Don’t dawdle! Don’t procrastinate! Be winsome – but be bold. Be tactful – but be forthright. Choose the right moment – but know that that moment must be soon! Today is the day of salvation!

No one comes to the Father except through Jesus Christ. There is no other name under heaven by which we must be saved.

To love your neighbor as yourself surely means to respect their beliefs and to be cordial. But it surely also means to share with them the only way under heaven by which they can be saved from God’s eternal wrath. It surely means to share with them the purpose for which they were created, the joy that can be theirs for all eternity.

Resurrection is sweet. Death is painful. Your time may be short. The time for your neighbors, family, and friends may be short. Don’t live with regret. Even this weekend, speak the word of God’s grace; proclaim the Gospel to those around you.

Don’t wait.

Mercy and Justice

Arise, O God, defend your cause; remember how the foolish scoff at you all the day! Do not forget the clamor of your foes, the uproar of those who rise against you, which goes up continually! (Psalm 74:22-23)

Jesus is speaking from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34)

Jesus has just been condemned unjustly, beaten, and nailed to the cross. And He asks God to forgive the perpetrators.

In Psalm 74, Jerusalem has just been conquered by the Babylonians, with her temple destroyed, her God mocked, and her citizens murdered and raped. And the psalmist asks for God to honor His Name through implementing justice.

Are these inconsistent responses to evil?

No.

Jesus Himself promises or calls for justice again and again:

“Will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them?  I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily.” (Luke 18:7-8a)

“Truly, I say to you, all sins will be forgiven the children of man, and whatever blasphemies they utter, but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”– for they were saying, “He has an unclean spirit.” (Mark 3:28-30)

And if your eye causes you to sin, tear it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than with two eyes to be thrown into hell, ‘where their worm does not die and the fire is not quenched.’ (Mark 9:47-48)

We see similar calls for justice throughout the Bible, New Testament as well as Old Testament. Revelation even pictures martyrs rightly crying out for justice from the heavenly altar of God (Revelation 6:9-11). They are promised that justice will come.

  • God is a god of justice. Justice is central to His character. He must punish every wrong, and He will. We rightly call on God to display His character, to implement justice, when we are faced with evil.
  • And God is a god of mercy. Mercy is central to His character. We rightly call on God to have mercy, to show forgiveness to those who harm us personally.

How does God show both aspects of His character?

Mercy and justice come together at the Cross. Indeed, God planned the incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of His Son in order that He might justly show mercy, in order that He might mercifully show justice (Romans 3:21-26).

In the end, there are only two categories of people: Those who deserve eternal punishment for their rebellion against God, and receive that punishment, all the while continuing in their rebellion; and those who deserve eternal punishment for their rebellion against God, whose punishment God the Father transfers to God the Son on the cross. United to Christ, forgiven in Him, having His Law written on their hearts, having received the gift of the Holy Spirit, they then delight in Him above all else and live to His glory.

So, yes, call out for justice. And come to the Father for mercy through the sacrifice of His Son. Do all this for the glory of God.

 

God is Everywhere!

God is everywhere! Does that give you joy? Or should that make you tremble?

In Psalm 139, David delights in God’s omnipresence:

Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. (Psalm 139:7-10)

David sees God as his protector, as his guide, as his ally. In the most dangerous places, in the most remote places, God sees him, leads him, and watches over him. He rejoices that this is so.

Just so with all of God’s people. We are glad that we cannot run away from him, and so He protects us even from ourselves.

But if God is your enemy, His presence should be a terror, not a comfort.

In Amos 9, God speaks through His prophet using language quite similar to that of Psalm 139, highlighting His presence everywhere. But the point of this passage is quite different: God says that the disobedient Israelites will not be able to escape His punishment, no matter where they go:

“If they dig into Sheol, from there shall my hand take them; if they climb up to heaven, from there I will bring them down.  If they hide themselves on the top of Carmel, from there I will search them out and take them; and if they hide from my sight at the bottom of the sea, there I will command the serpent, and it shall bite them.  And if they go into captivity before their enemies, there I will command the sword, and it shall kill them; and I will fix my eyes upon them for evil and not for good.” (Amos 9:4-6)

The one true God is a God of justice. Because of this, no crime against the innocent, no oppression of the weak, no rebellion against rightful authority will go unpunished. Since He is omnipresent, since He sees all, since no one can stand against Him, there is no escape. He will right all wrongs. Praise Him!

But the one true God is also a God of mercy. And out of His mercy, to satisfy His justice, He instituted His plan of redemption through the death and resurrection of His Son. We guilty sinners can have our guilt assigned to Jesus, for Him to bear the punishment we deserve, if we confess our sin and rebellion, repenting and turning to Christ in faith. Then justice is done: Jesus takes on Himself the exactly appropriate punishment for our sin. And mercy is effected: God grants us salvation, completely undeserved on our part.

So: Together Psalm 139 and Amos 9 tell us that both God’s justice and His mercy will seek us out. If we continue in rebellion against Him, we will not escape Him. He is everywhere. He will find us. We will not get away with any sin, any rebellion. There is no hope of escape. There is no hope for a plea bargain. There is no hope of getting off on a technicality. God sees all and is always present. You will face Him. And that should make you tremble.

But God’s omnipresence will give you everlasting joy if you are His, if you are redeemed through Jesus Christ. And God offers that redemption to you and to me, to all mankind, to those from every tribe and tongue and nation. So come to Him repenting. Then surely His goodness and mercy will follow you all the days of your life. And you will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

 

Bonhoeffer on Confession, Counseling, and the Cross

Dietrich Bonhoeffer:

Anybody who lives beneath the Cross and who has discerned in the Cross of Jesus the utter wickedness of all men and of his own heart will find there is no sin that can ever be alien to him. Anybody who has once been horrified by the dreadfulness of his own sin that nailed Jesus to the Cross will no longer be horrified by even the rankest sins of a brother. Looking at the Cross of Jesus, he knows the human heart. He knows how utterly lost it is in sin and weakness, how it goes astray in the ways of sin, and he also knows that it is accepted in grace and mercy. Only the brother under the Cross can hear a confession.

It is not experience of life but experience of the Cross that makes one a worthy hearer of confessions. The most experienced psychologist or observer of human nature knows infinitely less of the human heart than the simplest Christian who lives beneath the Cross of Jesus. The greatest psychological insight, ability, and experience cannot grasp this one thing: what sin is. Worldly wisdom knows what distress and weakness and failure are, but it does not know the godlessness of man. And so it also does not know that man is destroyed only by his sin and can be healed only by forgiveness. Only the Christian knows this. In the presence of a psychiatrist I can only be a sick man; in the presence of a Christian brother I can dare to be a sinner. The psychiatrist must first search my heart and yet he never plumbs its ultimate depth. The Christian brother knows when I come to him: here is a sinner like myself, a godless man who wants to confess and yearns for God’s forgiveness. The psychiatrist views me as if there were no God. The brother views me as I am before the judging and merciful God in the Cross of Jesus Christ.

Life Together (published in German in 1939; English edition: Harper and Row, 1954), p. 118-119.