Tag: The Cross

A Beautiful View of Jesus, Matthew 17:1-9 (Sunday Before Lent, The Transfiguration, Year A)

Matthew 17:1-9

A year into marriage – and it will be our silver wedding anniversary this year – my wife Debbie and I decided we fancied a walking holiday in the Snowdonia region of Wales. We booked a room in a B & B near the village of Beddgelert, and looked forward to joining the hordes walking up Mount Snowdon.

View from the Summit: Mount Snowdon by James E Petts on Flickr. CC 2.0.

It didn’t work out like that. Not long before going, we discovered Debbie was expecting our first child. Our vigorous walking holiday became a sedate one. We never got up Mount Snowdon.

Jesus, however, went up mountains quite regularly during his ministry. And every time Matthew’s Gospel records him doing so, something significant – revelatory, even – happens. In the last couple of weeks, you may have had readings from the Sermon on the Mount – his great description of what repentant living in the kingdom of God looks like. At the very end of Matthew after the Resurrection, Jesus sends his disciples up a mountain in Galilee, where he gives the Great Commission to disciple the whole world.

And here he is in today’s reading, going up a mountain again. We traditionally refer to the ‘Mount of Transfiguration.’ We expect a significant revelation of Jesus. And boy, do we get that. What is revealed about Jesus at the Mount of Transfiguration?

Here are four things the Transfiguration shows us about Jesus[1]:

Firstly, the glory of Jesus:

Jesus meets Moses and Elijah. Both of them had history of profound spiritual experiences on mountains. Moses received the Ten Commandments and his face glowed with the glory of God. Elijah saw God give him a mighty victory over the pagan prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel.

But here, only Jesus is transfigured. Moses isn’t. Nor is Elijah. However great they were in Israel’s history, they are not equal with Jesus. Only he shows the dazzling glory of God on his face and his clothes.

The message is clear. Jesus is supreme to all other religious leaders and heroes. He is not just another teacher. Nor is he merely a prophet, as Islam would say. He is so much more. He is Lord.

The natural consequence of this is that Jesus is as worthy of worship as the Father. He manifests the very glory of God.

Peter gets it all wrong. Perhaps he is tongue-tied in the presence of surpassing greatness, a bit like any of us would be when we meet someone famous and all our plans to ask intelligent questions disappear as our legs go to jelly and so do our brains. He says the daftest thing when he wants to build three shelters, one for Moses, one for Elijah, and one for Jesus. Yet again, he has missed the point.

It’s not enough to like Jesus or even admire him. The Transfiguration tells us that he is worthy of our worship – not merely an hour of our time on a Sunday, but the allegiance of our lives.

This morning, we take Holy Communion together. In our tradition, we call that a ‘sacrament.’ Now ‘sacrament’ is an interesting word. It is not a word from Scripture. Rather, it derives from a Latin word ‘sacramentum’, which was the oath of allegiance that a Roman soldier made to the Emperor. May our initial response to the glory of Jesus this morning be in renewing our sacramentum, our oath of allegiance to him, at the Lord’s Table.

Secondly, the words of Jesus:

Just to underline what Peter should have learned from only Jesus being transfigured, the divine voice from the bright cloud says,

‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!’ (Verse 5)

As good Jews, Peter, James, and John had it imprinted on their memory that when Moses went up Mount Sinai he received the Law of God. Now, as they are up this other mountain, they learn that Jesus is not simply the recipient of God’s words, he is the giver of them. Jesus is, and he gives, the Word of God.

This is the logical consequence of the first point. If the glory of Jesus tells us about his supremacy and we offer our worship and allegiance, then that involves heeding what he says. It is not for us to treat the teaching of Jesus as merely interesting or optional: what he says, goes. It is the Word of God.

Some of us like to sit in judgment on what we read in the Scriptures – like when Field Marshal Montgomery read the Old Testament lesson at Matins one morning and began, ‘And the Lord said unto Moses – and in my opinion quite rightly’! Others of us like to analyse the words and enjoy coming up with clever theories or explanations, but then do nothing. That won’t do either.

Of course, we will struggle with some of the difficult sayings of Jesus. We may need to understand certain nuances, or their historical background to make sense of them. But in the end, what we need to embrace as Christians is that Jesus and the Scriptures are for life, not just Sundays. One of the things coming in our forthcoming circuit-wide Lent preaching series will be a challenge to study and meditate on the Scriptures more. This would be a good time to embrace that discipline.

Thirdly, the compassion of Jesus:

It would be easy after what we have just been thinking about to assume that everything Jesus says and requires of us is challenging and maybe severe. But following on immediately from the words, ‘Listen to him,’ Jesus does in fact speak to Peter, James, and John. Hear verses 6 to 8 again:

6 When the disciples heard this, they fell face down to the ground, terrified. 7 But Jesus came and touched them. ‘Get up,’ he said. ‘Don’t be afraid.’ 8 When they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus.

Get up. Don’t be afraid. Even after the overwhelming glory that comes upon Jesus. Even after the summons to listen to him. Who is this Jesus whose glory tells of his supremacy, and whose Father tells us he is and he speaks the Word of God? Is he some severe authoritarian?

No. The Jesus who is Lord is full of love, mercy, and compassion. He reaches out in kindness to his people. He is the giver of dignity to those who are bowed down. Like the Psalmist says of the Lord in Psalm 3:3,

You are the One who lifts my head high.

This is how Jesus reigns. He was God’s agent in creation, where we were made in God’s image. However much we have marred that image by our sin, he is now remaking us in the divine image. He is making us more like him. And he does that with love and care for each of us.

If we are worried about giving our allegiance to Jesus and following his Word, here is what we need to remember about him. His yoke is easy and his burden is light[2] and we find our rest in him.

This is who we are called to follow. This is who is speaking to us. Whatever has laid us low, be they fears about God or the wounds of life, he invites us to get up and leave our fears with him. We are safe in his divine presence.

Fourthly and finally, the suffering of Jesus:

9 As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus instructed them, ‘Don’t tell anyone what you have seen, until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.’

For all the glory of Jesus, for all his authority as the Word of God, and for all his love, his next destination is Jerusalem and the Cross.

Suddenly, it feels like everything has changed. We have gone from the retina-searing brilliance of the Transfiguration to three hours of darkness on a hill.

But maybe nothing has changed. Maybe the Cross will reveal the same truths about Jesus, just in startlingly different ways. For though the world may think the Cross will be his shame, it will be his glory. The world may think he is condemned at the Cross and in one sense he is, but it will also be his enthronement.

And in the silence of God at Calvary, Jesus himself will speak his word. Seven last words from the Cross. Still, the Word of God will go out into the world, even from One suffering a cruel death. He will say, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing,’ and that word will be fulfilled as forgiveness pours out with his blood.

And do we see there the Jesus who in love lifts people up? Why, yes we do. For one thing, the forgiveness we have just spoken about does that. For another, he will lift up the penitent thief next to him by assuring him, ‘I tell you today, you will be with me in Paradise.’ Moreover, he lifts up both his mother and the Belovèd Disciple as he addresses them from the Cross: ‘Mother, here is your son. Son, here is your mother.’

Nowhere more do we see Jesus lifting people up and showing love than at Golgotha. As the Welsh Revival hymn puts it,

Here is love, vast as the ocean,
lovingkindness as the flood,
when the Prince of life, our ransom,
shed for us his precious blood.
Who his love will not remember?
Who can cease to sing his praise?
He can never be forgotten
throughout heaven’s eternal days.[3]

Conclusion

We began by talking about mountains. Sometimes, when you go up a mountain you get to see the most magnificent view. I recall seeing the powerful sight of the snow and the ski slopes when I went up the Jungfrau in Switzerland.

Here, as we have ascended the Mount of Transfiguration, I hope we gained the beautiful view of Jesus. We have taken in his majestic glory, his identity as the Word of God, and his compassionate love. Then we have seen that all of these will be recapitulated at the Cross.

I’ll finish not with the words of an old hymn but of a modern worship song, because they seem to capture these thoughts:

You are beautiful beyond description
Too marvelous for words
Too wonderful for comprehension
Like nothing ever seen or heard
Who can grasp Your infinite wisdom?
Who can fathom the depth of Your love?
You are beautiful beyond description
Majesty, enthroned above[4]

[1] These are influenced by Craig Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, pp 436-41.

[2] Matthew 11:30

[3] William Rees (1802-83); translated by William Edwards (1848-1929).

[4] ‘I Stand In Awe’, Music and words by Mark Altrogge. © 1986 Sovereign Grace Praise/BMI (adm. by Integrity Music). Sovereign Grace Music, a division of Sovereign Grace Churches. All rights reserved. CCLI: #23914.

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Holy Week Meditations 2024: Isaiah’s Servant Songs (4) Isaiah 52:13-53:12, The Suffering Servant (Good Friday)

Session 4
Introduction to reading in service
This week at Midhurst I have been offering some Holy Week meditations on the so-called ‘Servant Songs’ in Isaiah. Although their immediate application was to the prophet himself and to the People of God in exile in Babylon at the time, they also helped form Jesus’ understanding of his ministry and mission, and the Gospel writers’ understanding of Jesus. Not only that, through Jesus they have application to our lives.

There are four ‘Servant Songs.’ The first three were the Old Testament readings for Monday to Wednesday in Holy Week, the fourth comes today, Good Friday. It does so, because it is the one most associated with the death of Jesus. We will hear it in a moment, before we hear from the Gospel according to Mark.

If the first Servant Song was about God’s People, Israel, in exile, and the second and third were about this prophet ministering to them, who is this fourth Song about? It’s hard to say exactly who at the time would have fulfilled this description, but we do know it found greater fulfilment in Jesus and his suffering. So it will be the framework for my reflections

Isaiah 52:13-53:12

Most of us know what it’s like to be misunderstood. It can be quite innocent, when someone mishears what we have said. Or maybe they just don’t get on our wavelength. These experiences can be frustrating, but we can come through them with a smile.

It’s worse when someone wilfully misunderstands us. Perhaps they are too lazy to make the effort to listen. Worse, it may suit their purposes to misunderstand our words, our actions, or our values. Then it is a malicious misunderstanding, which can be both painful and worrying.

The fourth Servant Song and the life and death of Jesus show us One who was regularly misunderstood. Never was that more apparent than at the Cross. If he was truly the Messiah, then in the eyes of most people, he shouldn’t be suffering the fate of execution.

So we’re going to think about some of the ways the suffering Jesus on the Cross is misunderstood, to find how we might apprehend him more truly, and worship and serve him more faithfully.

The first misunderstanding is about image:

Just as there were many who were appalled at him –
    his appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any human being
    and his form marred beyond human likeness – (52:14)

If you’ve ever watched Mel Gibson’s movie ‘The Passion of the Christ’, you will know that it depicts the suffering and disfigurement of Jesus graphically. From being flogged and having the crown of thorns pushed into his head, through carrying the crossbeam, to having the nails hammered in, and the agonising death by suffocation. The Gospel writers don’t go into that detail, and I’m sure that was because people in their day knew only too well what death by crucifixion entailed. It was specifically meant to be an horrendous form of death, as a sadistic deterrent. That’s why Rome left crosses up around the countryside – to remind people.

This was not the fate of a victor. This was defeat and shame. The Apostle Paul said that it was a scandal to the Jews and foolishness to the Greeks for the Messiah’s death to be central to faith.

You may know that in Islam the Qu’ran denies that Jesus died on the Cross at all. Muslims cannot accept that this should be the fate of a divine prophet.

Nothing about the Cross fits any image of a glorious, triumphant leader.

No wonder we also read that

He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
    nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
3 He was despised and rejected by mankind,
    a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
    he was despised, and we held him in low esteem. (53:2b-3)

He just doesn’t fit our glossy image of a true leader.

Yet our passage began with the words

See, my servant will act wisely;
    he will be raised and lifted up and highly exalted. (52:13)

For what is foolishness to the Greeks and to millions of others is the wisdom of God. On Good Friday, we learn that God has an upside-down, counter-cultural way of transforming lives and changing our world. It isn’t about a gleaming image and power that rolls over others like a tank. Transformation comes as the Son of God, the True Servant, absorbs the darkness and evil of the world for us.

That’s why we also read that

so he will sprinkle many nations,
    and kings will shut their mouths because of him.
For what they were not told, they will see,
    and what they have not heard, they will understand. (52:15)

May God give us understanding of his ways which are not our ways. May we cast aside our shallow devotion to someone’s image and accept instead the substance of what Jesus accomplishes at the Cross.

The second misunderstanding is about character:

Bluntly, people think that the Servant – or Jesus – is suffering because he deserves to do so. That’s why you end up on a Cross. You have committed a crime. You are sentenced.

Think of the dialogue with the two other men who were executed with Jesus. The one who appeals to him, saying ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom,’ tells the other prisoner off for scorning Jesus. And he does so by reminding him that the two of them are getting their just desserts. However, he says, Jesus has done no wrong.

Thus, we come to these verses in Isaiah:

4 Surely he took up our pain
    and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
    stricken by him, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions,
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
    and by his wounds we are healed.
6 We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
    each of us has turned to our own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all. (53:4-6)

‘Yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted.’ There is the misunderstanding that Jesus had the character of a sinner, that he had done something worthy of the death penalty. The religious leaders thought that was true, because they considered Jesus had committed the sin of blasphemy. Pilate never understood the nature of Jesus’ claim to kingship, only grasping that if he were a king then he was a usurper and a political threat.

But instead of suffering because he was a sinner, Jesus suffered because we are sinners. And he suffered for our sins. He bore our suffering. He was pierced for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities. He was punished and wounded for us.

Some people reject the idea that Jesus could have suffered in our place. But there have been examples occasionally in courts of law where a judge has paid the fine he had imposed on someone who was found guilty. Before God, we are guilty. But in Christ he pays the penalty. The punishment that brought us peace was on him.

We need to reject the misunderstanding that Jesus was a sinner. He was not. He was instead our sin-bearer. And in that we find God’s offer to us of forgiveness, freedom, and healing, even of being in the right with him.

The third and final misunderstanding is about martyrdom:

In other words, did God kill Jesus for a good cause?

And if that language shocks you – God killing Jesus – I can assure you there are people who interpret the Cross that way. Some do so in order to make it sound repulsive and have all the more reason to reject Christianity. There are also a few Christians who even say that is what happened.

And it appears to be a misunderstanding that is present in the prophet’s day. Listen again to the closing verses of this Servant Song. You will hear both the misunderstanding and the correction:


10 Yet it was the Lord’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer,
    and though the Lord makes his life an offering for sin,
he will see his offspring and prolong his days,
    and the will of the Lord will prosper in his hand.
11 After he has suffered,
    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.
12 Therefore I will give him a portion among the great,
    and he will divide the spoils with the strong,
because he poured out his life unto death,
    and was numbered with the transgressors.
For he bore the sin of many,
    and made intercession for the transgressors. (53:10-12)

There it was at the beginning: it was the Lord’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer. But what the prophet goes on to show is that this was a partnership between the Servant (Jesus) and God. For God rewards his Servant after his suffering.

And that’s exactly what salvation is at the Cross. We don’t simply speak of Jesus being our substitute, we say more than that. We say that the ‘atonement’ (i.e., what Jesus achieved at the Cross) is God’s self-substitution. God and Jesus are not opposed. They are working together.

It is as the Apostle Paul told the Corinthians, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself.

God allows the Cross. God gives up his Son to the Cross. (Parents, think about giving up your children in some way.) But God does not kill Jesus, even if for a few hours Jesus feels forsaken by his Father. God and Jesus are in partnership here, bringing reconciliation to the world, to us, to you, to me.

And that is why we are here today. Not to cower before a cruel God, nor conversely to mourn a terrible mistake. But to worship the One Who loved the world so much that he gave up his only begotten Son, so that whoever believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.

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Palm Sunday: A Different Kind of King, Luke 19:28-40 (Lent 6 Year C)

Luke 19:28-40

Earlier this week I was asking one of my churches whether we had a stock of palm crosses to give out for Palm Sunday. But not to worry if we didn’t, I told them, we could (in the words of one biblical scholar) call it ‘No Palm Sunday.’

You’ll note I didn’t say Napalm Sunday – although that might be a Scottish pronunciation!

Why ‘No Palm Sunday’? All four Gospel writers tell the story of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem in the lead-up to his death. But Luke, whose account we read, doesn’t mention the spreading of palm branches. It’s a detail he misses out. He talks about the crowd spreading their cloaks on the ground instead. Maybe we should wave coats instead of palm branches – what do you think?

Be that as it may, if you’re an experienced Christian you’ll know from sermons in the past how the way Jesus enters Jerusalem signals his claim to be the Messiah, and he signals that he’s not coming with an army but in humility. I’m going to assume those things this year rather than go over them again. Instead, I’m going to look at what Luke’s account tells us about how Jesus exercises his kingly status.

Firstly, King Jesus acts in power:

37 When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen:

You would expect a king in those days to exercise power. But the way Jesus uses his power is in the performing of miracles.

Most of the miracles the disciples had seen were healings. They had also seen him use his power and authority over the elements to calm a storm. In other words, King Jesus used his great power that demonstrated his kingdom as acts of compassion for people.

And the crowd don’t know it, but in the coming week they are going to see the power of their King in unexpected ways. His weakness in dying on the Cross will be an act of power to bring the forgiveness of sins. His raising from the dead will bring new life.

Jesus doesn’t use his power to push people around or humiliate them. He uses his kingly power in compassion.

What does this mean for us if we live under his reign? A couple of things: firstly, it means that Jesus has compassion for us. Yes, as King he has the right to tell us what he wants us to do. But he is not bullying us. And he takes note of our frailties. He helps us with our weakness to sin. He is there with us and to act for us in our trials and pains.

Secondly, we are called to reflect his compassionate power in the world. This is a key part of our witness to him. Where can I show compassion this week, Lord? How about making that a regular prayer?

It may involve offering sanctuary to Ukrainian refugees. It may be caring for a neighbour along the road. It may be praying for someone who needs the intervention of Jesus in their lives.

What is certain is this: if King Jesus uses his power in compassion, then his church acting in compassion in the community should not be an exceptional thing. It should be the norm.

Secondly, King Jesus comes in peace:

38 ‘Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!’

‘Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!’

Peace in heaven and glory in the highest. Those words should sound familiar to readers of Luke’s Gospel. They are so like the song of the angels who announced the birth of Jesus in Luke 2:

14 ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven,
    and on earth peace to those on whom his favour rests.’

It’s something the early church majored on. You only have to look at the way the Apostle Paul began his letters. The standard way to begin a letter in his culture was to greet people with the word ‘Grace’. He went one further. He began with ‘Grace and peace.’

But what kind of peace? I don’t think there are any limits. We cannot separate off peace with God from peace with our neighbours – remember the connection between giving and receiving forgiveness in the Lord’s Prayer.

King Jesus is riding into Jerusalem, whose very name means ‘City of peace’, to bring this all-encompassing peace. But what the crowd of disciples hasn’t realised is that the way he will bring that peace will be by what happens a few days later, as he is nailed to the Cross. In his death, God offers peace to us. And that costly peace calls us to be peacemakers with others.

This challenges churches to be communities of peace. If we believe the Gospel, we won’t necessarily agree on everything, but we will deal with our differences peaceably. We will have the joy of knowing that we are forgiven sons and daughters of the living God. And we will seek peace in our communities. I saw this in Knaphill a few years ago when two businesses were in serious conflict. Someone from the Baptist church offered their services as a mediator. It wasn’t successful – success isn’t guaranteed – but that person was living out the Gospel of peace.

So if you want to put Palm Sunday (or even No-Palm Sunday) into practice, go and make peace with somebody.

Thirdly and finally, King Jesus receives praise:

39 Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, ‘Teacher, rebuke your disciples!’

40 ‘I tell you,’ he replied, ‘if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.’

When our daughter was about three years old, she used to love to dance to the music of the hymns in church. She would dance in the aisle, or maybe up front next to me. One day she was dancing in an all age service when a grumpy man in his eighties bellowed at her to stop.

The Pharisees are still with us. If we become embittered or cynical we will be offended by joyful praise.

Ian Paul, whom I quoted at the beginning, says that there may even be a pun behind the comments of Jesus in the original speech. For eben, the Hebrew word for ‘stones’, is close to ben, the word for ‘son’. If the sons of Israel won’t praise then the stones will, says Jesus.

Stones? Inanimate objects? Maybe it’s poetry, in the same way that many Psalmists envisage the time when all of creation will praise its Maker – ‘the trees of the field will clap their hands’, and many other passages reveal this sentiment.

For Jesus is not just King over individuals: he is King over all of creation. When we Christians engage in creation care, we have much loftier ideals for the whole creation. It’s not just a case of ensuring that the earth survives, it’s a case of being good stewards and leading ‘everything that has breath’ to praise the Lord.

We know this crowd of disciples will be shocked later in the week when a different crowd is whipped up into a frenzy and demands the execution of Jesus. But the disciples will discover the healing power of the Cross, and the healing of creation in the Resurrection.

So what about us? Have we allowed ourselves to become so cynical like the Pharisees, perhaps through years of disappointment in the church and the Christian faith, that we are more like The Grinch than Jesus? If heartfelt praise offends us, then we have a heart problem.

If that describes any of us, then I offer the invitation to use Holy Week as a time to reset and to heal. Take time to get alongside Jesus as he teaches in the Temple, as he issues amazing rebuttals to his critics, and then as he is silent before most of his accusers and goes to his suffering on our behalf.

Then, when we have drunk deeply of that – and only when we have – let the joy and craziness of Easter morning touch your soul. Let the stones – and the sons and daughters – cry out.

So – Jesus is a very different king. For him, not the power of coercion but the power of love. For him, not peace enforced by the jackboot, but peace brought by his own suffering. For him, praise not coming from crowds bussed in and forced to parade but from those captivated by his self-giving love.

This king is worthy of our allegiance.

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