Divine Gratuity

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“For you know that it is not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, a Lamb without blemish or defect.” —1 Peter 1:18, 19

On the hills outside of Jerusalem shepherds guarded the lambs that would be sold to petitioners coming to the Temple to make their sacrifices for sin. They had to be careful with their charges—an injured or marked animal was useless. A perfect lamb was more valuable than the shepherd who watched it—shepherds were the lowest of the low in the society of that time. Max Lucado speculates in Six Hours One Friday that some of those shepherds might have wondered at the futility of so many dead lambs, so much shed blood—rituals that led to more dead lambs and more shed blood year after bloody year. I wonder if any of those shepherds discovered for himself, on that terrible day when Christ died on that cross, that Jesus was THE Lamb who would die once for all, shed His blood once for all, and provide forgiveness once for all time for anyone who asked? I wonder if any of them discovered that there would never have to be another lamb sacrificed for sin?

Did any of those shepherds do as we do: lift our heads to look into the face of Jesus Christ and be thankful, thankful for something we can’t adequately describe, but about which countless volumes have been written?

Romans 6:23, one of the most recognizable verses of Scripture, says: “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” The word gift in the original language of the text is charisma. It means a divine gratuity and that captures my attention.

We reward people for services rendered well by giving them an extra percentage, a tip, a gratuity. But they had to DO something to GET something. The better they do their jobs the more they get from a grateful public. We withhold the tip if we don’t get what we want delivered in the way we want to receive it.

But God gives us something for doing nothing—it’s a gift—no sacrifice or service necessary on our part. And it isn’t just any old something—it’s forgiveness at the cost of the lifeblood of His Son. It was given long before we ever knew what it was, long before we appreciated it, long before we asked for it. We never did anything to earn it, nor could we have earned it no matter how hard we worked, or how much time we had been allotted to work off the debt—even if we could! 
James Kennedy writes, in Cross Purposes, Discovering the Great Love of God for You: “We need to remember that apart from His protective blood shed on the cross, we have no hope. In providing that blood, it was necessary that the Lamb should die. Substitution. Propitiation. The innocent dying for the guilty. This was God's omnipotent plan—that pure innocence should die for utter depravity. So Christ came to be the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world” (page 57).

Peace: The End Game

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“For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.” —Colossians 1:19, 20

There could be no worse, no crueler death than to be crucified. Christ suffered the worst so that we could receive the best: “For Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God...Christ suffered in his body” 1 Peter 3:18, 4:1.

John Piper writes in The Passion of Jesus Christ: “We will never stand in awe of being loved by God until we reckon with the seriousness of our sin and the justice of his wrath against us. But when, by grace, we awaken to our unworthiness, then we may look at the suffering and death of Christ and say, ‘In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his son to be the [wrath-absorbing] propitiation for our sins’ (1 John 4:10)” (page 21).

But it’s the end of the story that explains the necessity of the means required to get there.

I read the story of the Battle of Britain recently. In one chapter the author described one way in which the British authorities addressed the desperate shortage of raw materials with which to build up their war machinery. At one point an appeal was sent out to all the households on the island asking women to sacrifice their pots and pans so that the aluminum could be recycled into Spitfires, the most popular and powerful of the fighter planes that the Brits used against the Luftwaffe. Tons of aluminum were collected and the most humble of housewives felt personally involved in the war effort just by imagining that the enemy was being thwarted by their kettle or frying pan!

The cross was a sacrifice, but Jesus knew that the glorious end justified the terrible means. There would be reconciliation—two parties whose relationship was fractured would have that relationship restored. Two parties in conflict would find peace.

This truth is often pictured for us as a deep gap, or gulf, called sin. On one side of the gap is God. On the other is man. The breach is so wide and so deep that it is impossible to get across. Then, in the gap between God and man, a cross is placed. Its horizontal arms bridge the space between the two and provide a walkway that allows for a holy God to bring a sinful man back into His presence and for that man to cross the barrier created by his sin.

In the place of a dysfunctional relationship and conflict comes reconciliation and peace.

That’s the end game of the cross.

Paul writes in Romans 4:25-5:1, “He was delivered over to death for our sins and was raised to life for our justification. Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Beginning and End

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“Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” — Hebrews 12:2

It’s so simple—just look. Look at Jesus. He is the scarlet thread that runs through the Scriptures from Genesis to Revelation. He holds together every truth that we, as His followers, believe. He anchors the promises of God. In Him is wrapped up the justice of God and in Him we discover the reality of God’s mercy.

Jesus appears in Genesis 3:15 in a promise made by God to our fallen forefathers, Adam and Eve. God told them that Satan would attempt to thwart the plan that would rescue them from their own folly. But He also assured them that One descended from their own line, God’s own Son with “skin,” would not only thwart Satan’s plans but destroy them forever. 

Throughout the Old Testament the journey of Jesus to the cross is foretold, though nowhere more prominently than in Isaiah 52 and 53 where the suffering Saviour is described in brutal detail: “…pierced for our transgressions…crushed for our iniquities…a lamb to the slaughter…” (Isaiah 53:5, 7).

The New Testament shouts His Name and His purpose: “…he [God] has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins…For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross” (Colossians 1:13, 19).

God’s revelation to us in Scripture ends with the promise given about a time that is coming when Jesus will return: “Look, he is coming in the clouds, and every eye will see him, even those who pierced him, and all the peoples of the earth will mourn because of him” (Revelation 1:7).

He is the beginning and end (Revelation 22:13) of everything we are, and everything we hope for as believers.  So we must look to Him.

The cross was a shameful thing—the worst possible death, reserved for the worst possible criminals. It offered the most extreme suffering, but more to the point, it was the pinnacle of public humiliation. Even today, in a society where exposing flesh is an art form, it still is just a bit beyond the most jaded unbeliever to present the Lord as he would have been as He hung there. The Lord of life, the Creator of the universe, God Almighty, was left totally exposed before a mocking crowd.

But the writer to the Hebrews insists that Jesus rejected the thought of allowing even such humiliation to deter Him. He looked beyond the worst that man could do to Him toward the best that was awaiting Him—the joy of completing the mission only He could complete and then being reunited with His Father in glory.

No matter at what point we look at Jesus, whether it be at the beginning of history or at its end, we cannot help but see the shadow of a cross.

So it is there, to Him, we must look.

The Past Becomes the Present

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“In this way the priest will make atonement for him for the sin he has committed, and he will be forgiven” —Leviticus 4:35b

Did the religious authorities realize how “Old Testament” they were being when they insisted that Jesus be crucified? Did they notice that the actions they took that led to the Lord’s death paralleled closely the atonement ritual that their ancestors had carried out so assiduously, and that they themselves practiced. The death of the lamb, the sprinkling of the blood on the altar, was part of their own religious observance, as familiar to them as their wives’ faces.

            The trouble with familiarity is that oftentimes doing the same thing over and over again gets so routine that its true significance is lost in the science of the script and the art of the ceremony.

            Leviticus, one of those books of the Bible that most of us avoid, describes the numerous sacrifices that the ancients once offered. There were offerings for every occasion: for priests, for the community, for community leaders, for individuals. There were different animals that were part of the ritual: bulls, goats, lambs, and doves.

            In the case of an individual who committed a sin, Moses records this: “When anyone is guilty in any of these ways, he must confess in what way he has sinned and, as a penalty for the sin he has committed, he must bring to the Lord a female lamb or goat from the flock as a sin offering; and the priest will make atonement for him for his sin” (Leviticus 5:5, 6). The animal was killed. Some of its blood was sprinkled on the altar, the rest was drained out at the foot of the altar. The animal was then offered as a burnt offering to make atonement for the sin of the offender.

            The priests of Jesus’ day would not have recognized the cross-shaped altar, the cleansing flood of blood that flowed from the Lord’s body to pool at its base. Nor would they have understood that in the instant when the perfect Lamb died, atonement was provided for them. The Lamb had been sacrificed for the guilty. No, they would not have understood. They would not have confessed their guilt because they saw Jesus as guilty and themselves as the righteous. That was their fatal flaw.

            In a recent Bible study something the group was looking at triggered an “aha” moment in my head.  The Bible teacher was talking about the temple mount in Jerusalem where once these sacrifices described in the Scriptures were made. A mosque now sits on the site. It is the greatest desire of every orthodox Jew to see that mosque destroyed and the temple rebuilt where once it stood. I asked myself why God would have allowed a mosque to be built on the site of the holiest of holy places for the people of Israel, the place where once the cloud of His presence dwelt. As I thought about the question, I also wondered if God would ever allow the Jews to rebuild the temple, or if He would thwart every attempt to restore it.

            Is it possible that the mosque is there to prevent the Jews from returning to a system that doesn’t work, to keep them from sacrificing lambs in the futile attempt to do what has already been done once and for all time?

            The only completely sufficient sacrifice has been made. There is no need for another.

The Innocent For The Guilty — Part 1

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“…when I see the blood…” —Exodus 23:13

Hidden in the horrendous events of Exodus 11 and 12 are some of the most precious Gospel promises that God could ever give.

            As the Hebrews come to the end of their sojourn in Egypt, and as God came to the end of His patience in dealing with Pharaoh, Moses received instructions on how the people were to prepare for the Passover. They needed to be ready for that moment when the angel of God would pass over Egypt and take the first-born from every family, every flock, every herd. The lamb was to be sacrificed and its blood sprinkled on the doorposts of every Hebrew home. 

            “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).

So Moses passed on the message and the people prepared for an event that has remained a sacred celebration for Jews since that time. Moses said: “When the Lord goes through the land to strike down the Egyptians, he will see the blood on the top and sides of the doorframe and will pass over that doorway, and he will not permit the destroyer to enter your homes and strike you down” (Exodus 12:23).

“…when I see the blood…”

When, at last, we stand before God, those of us who know Jesus as Lord and Saviour will worship Him without fear. When He looks at us He will see, not our sins, but the blood of His Son—and will pass over. This theme becomes a constant in Scripture.

1 Peter 1:2, “…who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and sprinkling by his blood.”

Ephesians 2:13, “But now in Jesus Christ you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ.”

Revelation 1:5, “…To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood, and has made us to be a kingdom and priests to serve his God and Father—to him be glory and power for ever and ever! Amen.”

We rail at being passed over for a promotion, or for not being recognized for work well done, or being overlooked when invitations are extended to some special event. But this one time, when it comes to the judgment for sin, being passed over is a really, really good thing.

What a promise, what a privilege.

What a relief!

And So It Begins

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“And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel” —Genesis 3:15

I have a set of old rusty keys. I also have some nice shiny ones. They come in handy. And, oddly enough, they connect to Calvary.

As far as the historical record is concerned the story of the cross begins in Genesis with the first couple and the first sin. But God’s plan to deal with what He knew was inevitable actually was in place before time was established and history was first recorded. This is suggested in Revelation 13:8 when John refers to the “…the Lamb that was slain from the creation of the world.”

It’s a pity. If there had been no sin, there would have been no need for a Saviour to come and take our punishment upon Himself; no need for a cross upon which He would have to die.

James Kennedy remarks in Cross Purposes, Discovering the Great Love of God for You, that we seldom, if ever, hear the word sin used today—not even from some of our pulpits. Many people go so far as to deny that such a thing as sin exists. We have invented more acceptable terms to describe it—and excuse it. Kennedy once used the following example to illustrate sin’s existence.

“I remember…saying,...‘ I wonder if I may see your keys. Do you have a key ring?’ The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a key ring. I said to him, ‘If there’s no such thing as sin, sir, tell me, why do you have these?’ He was speechless. He has keys because he has locks. And why does he have locks? Because he has things locked up. And why does he have things locked up? Because there are people who would steal them if he didn’t. And why would they steal them? Because they’re sinners. That’s why” (page 23).

It’s hard to argue with the logic.        

Adam and Eve decided to steal God’s glory by competing for His position by doing what He had forbidden them to do. Satan had made this claim, “For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:5). The first couple fell for the lie. We’ve been falling for the same lies ever since.

Their decision made Calvary necessary. Our decisions, as sinners who have followed the path of our ancient ancestors, made Calvary necessary. From the beginning of recorded history God promised the coming of a Saviour (Genesis 3:15). Satan would try to destroy Him, but He who would conqueror death on one glorious Resurrection morning would also conqueror Satan and sin on one strangely glorious dark and deadly Friday.

Perhaps our need to reduce the cross in our worship, and in our practice, is related to our desperate need to deny the sin in us that made the cross necessary.

But all of us must confess to having keys—and the locks that make the keys necessary. Every time we lock or unlock a door we are reminded of sin.