Betrayal

Readings for today: Matthew 27-28, Psalms 94

These are some of the most gut-wrenching chapters in the Bible. Over and over again, Jesus is betrayed by those He loves and those He came to save. It begins with the abandonment of His disciples and the denial of Peter. Judas, overcome by guilt and shame at what he has done, changes his mind and tries to turn back the clock. Pilate, the one man with the authority to stop the charade, washes his hands of the whole episode. Even the crowds who had sung His praises just a few days before now turn on Jesus. Given the chance to set Him free, they choose Barabbas instead.

Then comes the Cross. Nothing beautiful about it. It stands unparalleled in human history as a horror. A terror. An act of unspeakable evil. It represents the ultimate betrayal. The Cross is where we hung God. The Cross is where we murdered God. The Cross is where we executed God. Creation despising and rejecting her Creator. Humanity lynching her Savior. Sin having it’s way. Satan rejoicing. His victory seemingly complete. 

Jesus’ suffering was unimaginable. After having been flogged and beaten. His flesh in tatters. His blood loss immense. Jesus is forced to shoulder a 300 lbs. Roman cross. (If He just carried the crossbeam - far more likely - it was still 100 lbs.) He carries it some two thousand feet up Golgotha where nails are driven into his hands and feet. The soldiers offer Him wine mixed with gall to numb the pain. He refuses. They strip Him naked so His humiliation and shame will be complete. Crowds gather to make a public spectacle of Him. Even the criminals being executed alongside Him take pleasure in His pain. Finally, He cries out, “My God, my God! Why have you forsaken Me?” Is this even possible? The Father forsaking His only Begotten Son? That’s how Jesus must have felt on some level. Darkness falls. The ground shakes. The Temple curtain protecting the Holy of Holies is torn in two. Tombs are thrown open. The dead are raised. The natural order of things is thrown into chaos as the Author of Life dies.

Jesus didn’t just suffer physically. It was existential. Impacting his heart, mind, and soul. His cry of God-forsakenness reveals the depths of His pain. His body torn. His mind shattered. His heart utterly broken. His soul rent asunder. There is nothing that can compare to the agony He endured as He bore the sin of the world on His shoulders. He hung there alone. Forsaken by all who knew Him. Betrayed by all who loved Him. Jesus hung between heaven and earth, making atonement for humanity in the ugliness of all her sin and satisfying the holy justice of God in all it’s beautiful glory. A price had to be paid. God’s righteous wrath had to be turned away. And Jesus - fully God and fully Man - was the only one who could do it. 

God forbid we ever get comfortable with the Cross. God forbid we ever take for granted what Jesus had to endure. God forbid we despise His sacrifice on our behalf. Jesus suffered and died for my selfishness. My wickedness. My sin. What He endured, I rightfully deserve. It is good for my soul to consider the depth of my betrayal. To ponder the depth of my Savior’s pain. It is good for my soul to reflect on the unfathomable cost of my salvation. It is good for my soul to contemplate how truly fierce and loyal and steadfast and unshakable is the love of God for me. 

Readings for tomorrow: Mark 1-2, Psalms 95

Holiness

Readings for today: Leviticus 5-7, Psalm 31

“Be holy because I am holy.” (1 Peter 1:16 CSB) God created us to be holy as He is holy. He created us to be perfect and pure just as He is perfect and pure. He created us as eternal beings, vessels made in His image, literally built to carry the weight of His glory. But we fell from grace. We sinned and went our own way. We decided we wanted to be our own gods. As a result, sin and corruption and impurity and unholiness polluted our souls. We are conceived in iniquity. Born with a sinful, broken condition. Our loves are disordered. Our desires disoriented. Our focus is inward rather than outward and upward. And this creates separation between us and God. So how do we bridge the gap? That’s the question this section of Leviticus is attempting to answer.

The first thing to remember is Leviticus comes from God. In this book, He is providing a way for the breach to be repaired. Through His laws, He is offering to restore that which was broken. It is at God’s initiation. God takes the first step towards us. He builds the bridge from heaven to earth in order to give us a chance to walk across it and return to Him. He does this eyes wide open. He knows the depth of our sin. Still He shows us grace. Still He provides a way. Still He longs to be in relationship with us. And yet, He also refuses to take away our voice. He refuses to deny us agency. He offers us a choice because love must be freely offered and freely given. It can never be coerced or forced.

The second thing to keep in mind is the vast chasm between a holy God and an unholy people. We can’t begin to fathom the distance between us. We can’t begin to understand the sheer breadth and depth of the void we created when we walked away from God. The reality is we don’t take God’s holiness nor our unholiness with enough seriousness. If we did, we would find the stories of the sacrifices told in these chapters far more palatable. We would understand our need for atonement. We would fall on our knees in worship and deep gratitude for all God has done.

The third thing to remember is God’s mercy and grace. He meets us where we are in life. The poor are not required to give a disproportionate sacrifice. Means are offered to make their offering proportional to where they find themselves. Two turtle doves. Two handfuls of flour. God makes allowances for each and every one of us. It’s yet another powerful reminder of His amazing grace.

I know the Old Testament sacrificial system seems weird and arbitrary and archaic. We are too far removed from the ancient world and therefore have a difficult time wrapping our minds around all the death and blood. But when we fast forward to Calvary, we see where it all comes to fulfillment. God offering up Himself as the perfect sacrifice for our sin. God building the bridge all the way from heaven to earth. God making us holy by washing us clean once and for all through His shed blood.

Readings for tomorrow: Leviticus 8-10, Psalm 32

Unimaginable Suffering

Readings for today: Matthew 27:32-66, Mark 15:21-47, Luke 23:26-56, John 19:17-42, Psalm 22

There is nothing beautiful about the Cross. It stands unparalleled in human history as a horror. A terror. An act of unspeakable evil. The Cross is where we hung God. The Cross is where we murdered God. The Cross is where we executed God. Creation despising and rejecting her Creator. Humanity lynching her Savior. Sin having it’s way. Satan rejoicing. His victory seemingly complete. 

Jesus’ suffering was unimaginable. After having been flogged and beaten. His flesh in tatters. His blood loss immense. Jesus is forced to shoulder a 300 lbs. Roman cross. (If He just carried the crossbeam - far more likely - it was still 100 lbs.) He carries it some two thousand feet up Golgotha where nails are driven into his hands and feet. They offer Him wine mixed with gall to numb the pain. He refuses. They strip Him naked so His humiliation and shame will be complete. Crowds gather to make a public spectacle of Him. Even the criminals being executed alongside Him take pleasure in His pain. Finally, He cries out, “My God, my God! Why have you forsaken Me?” Darkness falls. The ground shakes. The Temple curtain protecting the Holy of Holies is torn in two. Tombs are thrown open. The dead are raised. The natural order of things is thrown into chaos as the Author of Life dies.

Jesus didn’t just suffer physically. It was existential. Ontological. Impacting his heart, mind, and soul as well. His cry of God-forsakenness reveals the depths of His pain. His body torn. His mind shattered. His heart utterly broken. His soul rent asunder. There is nothing that can compare to the agony He endured as He bore the sin of the world on His shoulders. He hung there alone. Forsaken by all who knew Him. All who loved Him. Even His Heavenly Father. Jesus hung between heaven and earth, making atonement for humanity in the ugliness of all her sin and satisfying the holy justice of God in all it’s beautiful glory. A price had to be paid. God’s righteous wrath had to be turned away. And Jesus - fully God and fully Man - was the only one who could do it. 

What Jesus suffered on the Cross is a foretaste of hell. For those who wonder what hell is like, they need look no further than Jesus’ crucifixion. It is truly terrifying. There is no escape. There is no hope. There is nothing redemptive or beautiful or pleasurable about it. It is awful. It is brutal. It is horrible. And it is just. It is what we deserve. Human beings are born sinners. Born rebellious. Born treasonous and seditious. Our hearts naturally oriented away from God. Our desires naturally opposed to God. Our loves naturally self-centered. There is nothing beautiful about sin. Nothing beautiful about evil. We are foolish to think otherwise. 

God forbid we ever get comfortable with the Cross. God forbid we ever take for granted what Jesus had to endure. God forbid we despise His sacrifice on our behalf. Jesus suffered and died for my crimes. My wickedness. My sin. What He endured, I rightfully deserve. And it is good for my soul to sit and ponder the depth of my Savior’s pain. It is good for my soul to sit and reflect on the unfathomable cost of my salvation. It is good for my soul to sit and contemplate how truly fierce and loyal and steadfast and unshakable is the love of God for me. 

Readings for tomorrow: Matthew 28, Mark 16, Luke 24, John 20-21

The Pain of God

Readings for today: Jeremiah 3-7, 2 Thessalonians 3, 1 Timothy 1

Jeremiah is a hard book to read. Especially if one gets in touch with the pain present throughout. Not only Jeremiah’s pain as he watches his people and his nation struggle and suffer and eventually be destroyed. But God’s pain as well as His people betray Him by chasing after other gods. So intertwined is the pain of God with His prophet that it is often hard to know who’s speaking. For example, Jeremiah  4:19 says, “My anguish, my anguish! I writhe in pain! Oh the walls of my heart! My heart is beating wildly; I cannot keep silent, for I hear the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war.” (Jeremiah‬ ‭4:19‬) Traditionally, these words have been ascribed to Jeremiah himself because we simply cannot fathom God saying such things. However, when one looks closely at the text, it is clear God is speaking in verse 18 (“Your ways and your deeds have brought this upon you. This is your doom, and it is bitter; it has reached your very heart.”) and in verse 22 (“For my people are foolish; they know me not; they are stupid children; they have no understanding. They are 'wise'—in doing evil! But how to do good they know not.”) Is it possible that we are so uncomfortable with the idea that God might feel pain that we automatically bracket this reading out of the text? 

We’re going to see this dynamic pop up over and over again throughout this book and it forces us to come to grips with how we see and understand God. Classically, the question goes to the “impassibility” of God. The idea that God doesn’t have “passions” or “pathos” which has to do with suffering. Some have interpreted this to mean God doesn’t have emotions but that’s clearly not true. God expresses a whole range of emotions throughout the Scriptures. More specifically this idea has to do with the suffering of God. Can God suffer? Does such suffering suggest a change in God? Does it threaten the immutability of His nature and character? Historically, the answer has been “yes” which then forces us to find other explanations for what we read in texts like the one before us today. But what if God suffers? What if God chooses - in His freedom - to be the kind of God who moves towards suffering? Who embraces suffering? Who welcomes suffering without it changing who He is? Is this not the heart of the gospel? Is this not part of the mystery of the Incarnation? Eternal God choosing to take on human flesh? With all its weaknesses and struggles and hardships? Is this not the heart of the passion of our Christ? God suffering with us and for us even to the point of death?  

It seems to me that we lose nothing by embracing the pathos of God if we understand God has freely embraced such pathos according to His own will. Certainly, such suffering is not forced on God. It doesn’t take God by surprise. It doesn’t enact a change on God’s experience. God is beyond all these things. He truly is immutable or unchanging. He is the same yesterday, today and forever. There is no shadow or turning in Him. But at the same time, God has revealed Himself in a particular, one might even argue, peculiar kind of way. He is a God who embraces a broken creation. A God who covenants with a broken people. A God who is steadfast and faithful and loyal and true even in the face of evil. He is a God who likens His relationship with His people to a marriage and the faithlessness of His people to adultery. He frequently uses the language of betrayal and heartache and pain to express His dismay over the sinful choices His people make. No one forces God to remain faithful. No one makes God forgive. No outside force can drive God to do anything He Himself has not already chosen to do in complete freedom. Which makes passages like the one we read today and others like it throughout the book of Jeremiah so intriguing. 

What if God is in anguish over us? What if being in relationship with us breaks God’s heart? What if God’s choice to love us from before the foundations of the earth involved Him choosing unimaginable suffering? Would this change how you relate to Him? Change how you see Him? Change how you experience Him? Change how you love Him?  

Readings for tomorrow: Jeremiah 8-9, 1 Timothy 2