Matthew 27

⁴⁵ Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land until the ninth hour. ⁴⁶ And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” ⁴⁷ And some of the bystanders, hearing it, said, “This man is calling Elijah.” ⁴⁸ And one of them at once ran and took a sponge, filled it with sour wine, and put it on a reed and gave it to him to drink. ⁴⁹ But the others said, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him.”

When the late Richard John Neuhaus pastored in Brooklyn, a 12-year-old inner city kid named Michael commented on Christ’s death on the cross by saying, “I don’t say it wasn’t real bad, but he did what he wanted to do, didn’t he?”[1]

That is a very interesting thing to say, and no doubt the young man who said it did not mean anything particularly sinister by it. However, it could almost be read to mean that while the horrors of the cross were indeed horrific, they were at least lessoned a bit by the fact that Jesus willingly entered into them, that Jesus was presumably still in control, and that Jesus knew that in the end He would emerge victorious in the resurrection. Again, it is very unlikely that Michael was trying to lessen the very real agonies of the cross, but it is a bit of a qualification nonetheless that carries with it some potentially unhelpful notions.

I do not deny that there is a kind of logic to that statement. I would simply point out that it is a logic bound to the finitude of our own understandings. I would further point out that the reality of what was happening on the cross was a deeper reality on a higher plain of understanding than any of us can reach this side of heaven. Thankfully, the scriptures have revealed much about what was happening there, but it is nonetheless the case that human reasoning always stumbles over the cross.

In particular, the fourth word from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” is problematic for our own minds. Stanley Hauerwas, speaking of the fourth word, wrote this:

Our temptation is to try to explain, to protect Jesus from this abject cry of abandonment…We seek to explain these words of dereliction, to save and protect God from making a fool out of being God, but our attempts to protect God reveal how frightening the God of Jesus Christ is. That God rightly frightens us.[2]

That is well, if provocatively, said. As a result of this “embarrassment,” many people have tried to explain away the fourth word from the cross. For instance, Craig Blomberg mentions “the docetic or Gnostic view that Jesus’ divine nature actually departed at this time because God could in no way suffer (found as early as mid-second century in the apocryphal Gospel of Peter).”[3] This type of aberrant theology is clearly assumption-driven instead of text-driven.

A.T. Robertson, speaking of the darkness that verse 45 tells us fell upon the land at the crucifixion, wrote, “One need not be disturbed if nature showed its sympathy with the tragedy of the dying of the Creator on the Cross (Rom. 8:22), groaning and travailing until now.”[4] Indeed. And neither does one need to be disturbed at the fourth word from the cross for its refusal to fit nicely into our theological categories. We should be disturbed about what the fourth word reveals concerning our own sinfulness, but we should see the first word as an opportunity for us to grow deeper in our understanding of the nature of the Father and the Son and the reality of what was happening on the cross. We will do this by consider three grammatical components of the fourth word and what they mean for us.

A proper noun that reveals a suffering, abiding hope.

A proper noun is repeated at the beginning of the fourth word, and it is a noun with great significance.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

The fact that Jesus refers to His Father as “God” instead of “Father” in the fourth word is striking for two reasons. First, it is striking that He says “God” instead of “Father” in the fourth word when, in the first word, He said, “Father forgive them…” Does this shift in how Jesus addresses the Father suggest the struggle and agony of the cross? Perhaps it does.

On the other hand, the second striking aspect of this terminology is that it is a direct quotation of scripture, specifically Psalm 22. This is significant. For one thing, Jesus’ quoting of this psalm may suggest that the cry of dereliction is actually a cry of victory, for the psalm goes on to proclaim precisely that. Consider the entirety of Psalm 22.

¹ My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? ² My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest. ³ Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the one Israel praises. ⁴ In you our ancestors put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. ⁵ To you they cried out and were saved; in you they trusted and were not put to shame. ⁶ But I am a worm and not a man, scorned by everyone, despised by the people. ⁷ All who see me mock me; they hurl insults, shaking their heads. ⁸ “He trusts in the Lord,” they say, “let the Lord rescue him. Let him deliver him, since he delights in him.” ⁹ Yet you brought me out of the womb; you made me trust in you, even at my mother’s breast. ¹⁰ From birth I was cast on you; from my mother’s womb you have been my God. ¹¹ Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help. ¹² Many bulls surround me; strong bulls of Bashan encircle me. ¹³ Roaring lions that tear their prey open their mouths wide against me. ¹⁴ I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. My heart has turned to wax; it has melted within me. ¹⁵ My mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth; you lay me in the dust of death. ¹⁶ Dogs surround me, a pack of villains encircles me; they pierce my hands and my feet. ¹⁷ All my bones are on display; people stare and gloat over me. ¹⁸ They divide my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment. ¹⁹ But you, Lord, do not be far from me. You are my strength; come quickly to help me. ²⁰ Deliver me from the sword, my precious life from the power of the dogs. ²¹ Rescue me from the mouth of the lions; save me from the horns of the wild oxen. ²² I will declare your name to my people; in the assembly I will praise you. ²³ You who fear the Lord, praise him! All you descendants of Jacob, honor him! Revere him, all you descendants of Israel! ²⁴ For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help. ²⁵ From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly; before those who fear you I will fulfill my vows. ²⁶ The poor will eat and be satisfied; those who seek the Lord will praise him—may your hearts live forever! ²⁷ All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the Lord, and all the families of the nations will bow down before him, ²⁸ for dominion belongs to the Lord and he rules over the nations. ²⁹ All the rich of the earth will feast and worship; all who go down to the dust will kneel before him—those who cannot keep themselves alive. ³⁰ Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord. ³¹ They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it!

Any reading of this text will have to conclude that it begins with a cry of dereliction but ends with hope and trust in the goodness and faithfulness of God. Was Jesus, in quoting the first words of this psalm, speaking of the whole? Was He seeking to commend the entirety of the psalm to the watching crowds (then and now) in an effort to say that God had indeed not abandoned Him.

That is an attractive thought. First of all, it is indeed very important that Jesus, in quoting these specific words, is quoting from a psalm of ultimate victory. Of all the psalms He could have quoted, He quoted Psalm 22. Second, if this is what Jesus is doing, it removes the awkwardness of having the second Person of the Trinity asking the first Person of the Trinity why He had forsaken Him for, in this way of thinking, the words Jesus said were really a nod to a much larger statement, namely, the remainder of Psalm 22.

Even so, while acknowledging that this may be what is happening in the fourth word from the cross, there are reasons to be cautious. For one thing, Jesus could have just easily quoted a portion of the psalm that spoke of victory, but He did not. It is true that He specifically quoted from Psalm 22, but it also true that He specifically quoted the first verse: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

William Barclay has offered another caution against reading the fourth word as a somewhat veiled suggestion of victory.

That is an attractive suggestion; but on a cross a man does not repeat poetry to himself, even the poetry of a psalm; and besides that, the whole atmosphere of the darkened world is the atmosphere of unrelieved tragedy.[5]

Indeed, the physical manifestation of darkness coupled with the cry of dereliction does suggest agony at that point, not victory. Regardless of how we choose to understand Jesus’ quotation of Psalm 22, it should not be employed as a way to minimize the agony and horror of the moment.

It is telling that this word is so very enigmatic, so very difficult to understand, for we are specifically told that the gathered crowd misunderstood it as well.

⁴⁷ And some of the bystanders, hearing it, said, “This man is calling Elijah.” ⁴⁸ And one of them at once ran and took a sponge, filled it with sour wine, and put it on a reed and gave it to him to drink. ⁴⁹ But the others said, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him.”

Craig Keener points out that watching, misunderstanding crowd “knew that rabbis in distress sometimes looked to Elijah for help (as in b. ‘Aboda Zara 17b; p. Ketubot 12:3, 6).”[6] That is interesting, but, for our purposes, it is also interesting to note that the fourth word from the cross remains the most difficult to understand. To this day, we struggle to understand this word.

But something else needs to be seen in these opening words of the fourth words. We see the proper noun “God” and all that it potentially means in this moment, but we also see the pronoun preceding it, “My.”

“My God, my God…”

It is a suffering hope, but it remains an abiding hope! Jesus speaks of God as “My God.” Whatever distance He might feel in the moment, He knows that He still stands in relationship with the Father.

A verb that reveals a separating horror.

The most unsettling word of the fourth word, however, is “forsaken.”

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

To begin to understand what is happening here, we must come to terms with two very uncomfortable truths about what was happening on the cross and our own sin. The first of these truths is that on the cross Christ became our sin. That is a most unpleasant thought, to be sure, for all of us know at least something of the ugliness of our own sins and all of us know at least something of the pervasiveness of sin in the world at large. We know also the Bible’s clear proclamation that “all have sinned.” Thus, in some sense, Christ becomes the sin of the world on the cross. Paul said precisely this in 2 Corinthians 5.

²¹ For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

The clear implications are unnerving but also awe-inspiring. On the cross, Christ becomes the sin of the world. He took onto Himself every sinful act, every sinful word, and every sinful thought that humanity had or would commit, speak, or think. Every act of greed, every act of lust, every act of violence, every profane word, every profane thought, every act of child abuse, every act of spousal abuse, every act of theft, every punch ever thrown in anger, every word ever used like a dagger, every act of betrayal, every act of adultery, every act of fornication, every lie ever told, every crude joke every told, every act of self-righteousness, every act of hypocrisy, every act born out of self-serving ego: Christ took all of this upon Himself on the cross!

The second uncomfortable truth arises naturally from the first: that in becoming our sin Christ became cursed. He was cursed in the moment of receiving our sin because God will not abide sin. So in taking our sin, Christ took the curse that came with it. Thus, in Galatians 3 we read:

¹³ Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree”

Let us be very clear: whatever is meant by the verb “forsaken” in, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” it is somehow bound up with the fact that at that moment Christ Himself took human sinfulness upon Himself. Traditionally, this had lead Christians to conclude that the fourth word from the cross coupled with the darkness that fell upon the land at this point means that God the Father “turned His back” on God the Son.

Perhaps that can be said if it is properly defined and nuanced, but the simplistic way that people often say that is profoundly problematic and it is doubtful that this is a helpful way of speaking of it. I say this for a few reasons.

First, Jesus quotes from Psalm 22, a chapter that includes these words:

²⁴ For he has not despised or scorned the suffering of the afflicted one; he has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.

Most Protestant Christians today tend to speak of the Father “turning His back” or “turning His face away” at this point. This, then, is seen to be the explanation of the verb “forsaken.” Yet it must be recognized that the psalm Jesus quotes explicitly says that God “has not hidden his face from him but has listened to his cry for help.” Perhaps it could be argued that verse 24 is speaking of the resurrection of Jesus and the fact that God did not forsake Him indefinitely. Perhaps, but the psalm’s rejection of the idea of God turning His face away should at least give us pause.

Furthermore, we should be careful that we do not define “forsaken” in such a way that it suggests a reality that would challenge God’s omnipresence. However we understand “forsaken,” we must remember that God is indeed everywhere. In Psalm 139:8, the psalmist writes, “If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!” If by “God turned His back” we mean that the Father somehow spatially separated Himself from the Son, we should think long and hard about what such an idea would truly mean concerning the immutable character of God.

What is more, we must remember that the Father sent the Son for precisely this moment and that, in a very real sense, this moment on the cross is the moment in which the Son fulfills His difficult calling. In so doing, He stands in the very center of the Father’s will at this moment particularly. Frank Stagg put it nicely when he wrote:

God did not turn his back on Jesus, as some theology has it. God was never nearer than at Golgotha as Jesus gave himself in full obedience to the Father’s will…God was there! “God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself” (2 Cor. 5:19).[7]

I do not say this in an effort to explain the fourth word or the difficult verb “forsaken.” I am merely saying that we should be careful in reaching our conclusions.

But what of that verb? What does it mean? I think that two further truths will be helpful here.

The first is that Christ had two natures, divine and human, in one person. There are times when it seems that Jesus speaks out of His human nature, speaks, that is, as a man. Perhaps in the agony of this moment this is what we are seeing: Jesus the man speaking. If this is the case, then He is crying the cry of all suffering human beings who wonder, in their moments of greatest agony, where God is. Seen in this light, the cry of dereliction is a powerful example of substitution, of Christ offering our cry for us.

And the second truth is bound up with those two uncomfortable truths mentioned earlier. While we certainly must be careful with our language of God “turning His back” or “turning His face away,” it is undeniable that sin does indeed bring a rupture or a fissure in our relationship with God. Sin is an agent of division between us and God. It does create a chasm, a gulf between us in terms of our relationship.

Surely this horrifying moment when Jesus became our sin and became our curse carried with it a kind of rupture in the perfectly harmonious relationship between the Father and the Son. I would propose that our finite minds cannot begin to grasp much less explain this, but it seems clear enough that something like this happened. Thus, the cry of dereliction is the cry of agony and horror in the moment when Christ opened Himself to receive our curse-bringing sin onto Himself.

A pronoun that reveals forgiveness and life eternal.

These are difficult and painful things to ponder, for we cannot ponder them dispassionately or theoretically. We are speaking, after all, of our sin and of our Savior, Jesus. As a result, this “forsakenness” cuts us to the quick. Yet the fourth word ends with a word that gives us hope. I am speaking of the pronoun “me.”

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Here we approach a truth that is as sublime as it is flabbergasting. The sin, the curse, the forsakenness were all willingly embraced by Christ Jesus. That sin, that curse, that forsakenness was by all rights and accounts my sin, my curse, and my forsakenness. It certainly was not naturally His! It was mine! My sin! My curse! My forsakenness!

Yet Jesus cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” And, in truth, we cry out the same! “My God, my God, why have you forsaken Him?! He has done no wrong! The sin is not His! The curse is not His! The forsakenness is not His! It is mine, mine, mine! I committed the sin! I committed the crime! The curse should fall upon me! My God, my God, why have you forsaken Him?!”

To which the word of God comes to us in the beautiful truth of the gospel: “Because, my child, this is why I sent Him and this is why He came. He came to bear your sin, your curse, your forsakenness. And He came to do this because you are loved by the Father and the Son and the Spirit. You are loved! And now you are forgiven! You are forgiven because He was forsaken. He took the curse. You get the grace. This is why He came.”

Our hearts and minds reel at such a display of love!

I earlier quoted Stanley Hauerwas’ observation that there is something in us that is embarrassed by the fourth word from the cross. Let me share the rest of his thought.

Our temptation is to try to explain, to protect Jesus from this abject cry of abandonment…We seek to explain these words of dereliction, to save and protect God from making a fool out of being God, but our attempts to protect God reveal how frightening the God of Jesus Christ is. That God rightly frightens us. Yet God is most revealed when he seems to us the most hidden: “Christ’s moment of most absolute particularity – the absolute dereliction of the cross – is the moment in which the glory of God, his power to be where and when he will be, is displayed before the eyes of the world” ([David Bentley] Hart)…Hear these words, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” and know that the Son of God has taken our place, become for us the abandonment that our sin produces, so that we may live confident that the world has been redeemed by this cross.[8]

Yes! Yes! God has taken our place! Richard John Neuhaus has aptly expressed what this means for us.

God is present in his apparent absence…God is present in the forsaken so that nobody – nobody ever, nobody anywhere at any time under any circumstance – is forsaken.[9]

Do you see? The fourth word from the cross is the very heart of the gospel: Jesus was cursed in our stead. Jesus paid the price for my sin and your sin and the sins of the whole world. Jesus took the suffering and gave us instead eternal life.

The cry of dereliction is really the cry of salvation. It is the cry of our only hope. And it is a beautiful hope indeed.

Have you come to the Son who died in your place?

If not, would you come now? He is waiting with open arms.

[1] Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon. (New York, NY: Basic Books, 2000), p.124.

[2] Stanley Hauerwas, Matthew. Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2006), p.240-241.

[3] Craig Blomberg, Matthew. The New American Commentary. New Testament, Vol. 22 (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1992), p.419.

[4] A.T. Robertson, Word Pictures in the New Testament. Vol. II (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1930), p.234.

[5] William Barclay, Gospel of Matthew. Vol.2. The Daily Study Bible (Edinburgh: The Saint Andrew Press, 1967), p.406-407.

[6] Craig S. Keener, Matthew. The IVP New Testament Commentary Series. Vol.1 (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1997), p.390.

[7] Frank Stagg, “Matthew.” The Broadman Bible Commentary. Gen.Ed., Clifton J. Allen. Vol.8 (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1969), p.246.

[8] Stanley Hauerwas, p.240-241.

[9] Richard John Neuhaus, p.142.

John 19

²⁵ but standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. ²⁶ When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” ²⁷ Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.

In June of this year, NBC Chicago ran a story about a shooting that occurred in South Chicago.

A 21-year-old man died Saturday after throwing himself in front of open gunfire in an attempt to shield his mother from the bullets, according to family members.

James Jones and his mother, Alicia Jones, were on their front porch Saturday afternoon in South Chicago when a man walked out of a gangway and fired in their direction, police said.

That is when the 21-year-old made the ultimate sacrifice to protect his mother, throwing himself in front of her, saving her life by shielding her from the array of bullets headed in her direction. By saving her life, he lost his own.

“My sister just so happened to be coming out the front door,” said Dietra Luckett, Jones’ aunt. “He took his body and put it on top of her body. He covered her body.”

Alicia Jones, 46, was critically wounded but survived. She underwent surgery at Advocate Christ Medical Center. James was dead at the scene, according to Chicago Police and the Cook County medical examiner’s office.

She knows her son saved her life, Luckett said, but doesn’t know he’s gone. Her sister said she’s been asking for him, saying, “Where’s James?”[1]

The mother was still struck by the bullet, but her son’s body kept it from killing her, though it killed him. They had not told her that her son was dead at the time of the writing of the article, because they did not want to upset her as she was recovering in the hospital.

It is an unsettling story. The young man who died had his own criminal background, the article went on to say, and the entire incident was gang related. Even so, there is a beauty to a son’s instinctive desire to protect his mother, to die in her place, to give her life through his death. And there is, simultaneously, a grueling heartbreak about a mother being hit with the staggering reality that her son has died.

There are radical dissimilarities between what happened in June of 2015 on the south side of Chicago and what happened in the first century just outside of Jerusalem, but there are similarities as well. The dissimilarity, of course, is that Jesus was sinless and perfectly righteous and that He knowingly embraced death from eternity past, intending to lay down His life and die as a substitute for lost humanity. The young man in Chicago was, like all of us, a sinner who did not know he would die. Even so, in both situations, a son died as a substitute and a mother had to come to terms with her loss.

Of course, there is yet another radical dissimilarity. Jesus was able to accomplish through His death what no other person could accomplish through his or her death, no matter how nobly a person might die or how selflessly to save the life of another. Jesus died to open the very door of Heaven to us, and only He, the God-man, could do so. For this reason, the last words of Christ on the cross are most powerful and most instructive, and, in this this word from the cross, Jesus acknowledges His mother who has come to watch her Son die.

The third word from the cross reveals the love of the Son for His mother.

At its most basic level, that is the point: the third word from the cross reveals the love of the Son for His mother. Mary and the women with her had come to be with Him as He died.

²⁵ but standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.

The very first words of verse 25 are poignant with meaning: “but standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother…” D.A. Carson suggests that the Greek wording of verse 25 “suggests a contrast between the soldiers…and the women here introduced” and translates the beginning of the verse as, “So the soldiers, on the one hand, did these things; on the other hand, there stood near the cross of Jesus…”[2] It is a stark contrast indeed, and one filled with feeling and power. Jesus hangs on the cross, the soldiers gamble for His clothes, and His mother is there with Him. Richard John Neuhaus notes something interesting about most of the painted depictions of this scene.

[B]eginning in the Middle Ages, artists would depict a very tall cross, with Mary and the others far below at its foot. But historians believe that the cross was probably about seven feet tall. They were face to face. The sweat, the blood, the tearing tendons, the twitching, the wrenching, the bulging eyes – she would have seen it all quite clearly, as clearly as she saw him so long ago when she held him safely to her breast.[3]

Mary and the women were there and being there brought a pain to Mary that was indescribable. Do you remember the strange words of Simeon when he held the baby Jesus in Jerusalem? They are recorded in Luke 2.

³⁴ And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed ³⁵ (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.”

Whatever else this prophesied piercing meant, it certainly must have included this moment of excruciating pain. Mary watches her son there on the cross. Perhaps the 13^th century hymn, “Stabat Mater,” comes closest to honoring her pain in that moment.

At the Cross her station keeping,

stood the mournful Mother weeping,

close to her Son to the last.

Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,

all His bitter anguish bearing,

now at length the sword has passed.

O how sad and sore distressed

was that Mother, highly blest,

of the sole-begotten One.

Christ above in torment hangs,

she beneath beholds the pangs

of her dying glorious Son.

Is there one who would not weep,

whelmed in miseries so deep,

Christ’s dear Mother to behold?

Can the human heart refrain

from partaking in her pain,

in that Mother’s pain untold?

For the sins of His own nation,

She saw Jesus wracked with torment,

All with scourges rent:

She beheld her tender Child,

Saw Him hang in desolation,

Till His spirit forth He sent.

Mary beholds her son and, in this third word, Mary’s son beholds her. He sees her. She is standing there with “the disciple whom he loved.” Traditionally this is thought to be John, though the text does not actually say so. I will stay with that traditional interpretation here. Jesus sees Mary and John standing together and Jesus speaks.

²⁶ When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” ²⁷ Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.

I agree with commentators who say that what is happening here goes beyond the mere temporal provision of a mother by her son. Indeed it does. Something much deeper than that is happening here. However, a son’s provision for His mother is happening. This word suggests more than mere earthly provision for Mary, but it does not suggest less. It seems to me that we miss something profoundly significant when we glide pass this first meaning and move on to the other meanings, for surely it is no small thing that the Son of God while dying for the sins of the world sees, addresses, and provides for His mother.

This third word is a word of a son’s love. Jesus loved His mother. Jesus took care of His mother. Whatever else is happening here, if it does not lead us to care for our parents, we have misunderstood something most obvious.

The third word from the cross reveals a people who continue the life of Jesus on the earth.

But it also says something about the nature of discipleship, does it not? In saying, “Woman, behold your son!” Jesus was saying that John would now care and provide for her. In saying, “Behold, your mother!” Jesus was telling John that he was now to provide the duties of a son to Mary. And John did precisely this. R. Kent Hughes points out the traditions that grew around John’s provisions of Mary.

One extra-Biblical account says John owned a home in Jerusalem at the foot of Zion, Mary stayed there eleven years, and only after her death did John go out to preach the Gospel to the Gentile world. Another report says that Mary died in the city of Ephesus while sharing in John’s missionary ministry.[4]

Jesus is calling upon John to take care of His mother. And yet, in principle, Jesus’ command to John was saying something more as well, for in so saying Jesus was establishing not merely the particulars for His mother’s care but the principle that His followers from that point onward are to continue in their lives the life that Christ had lived in His incarnate state on the earth.

Craig Keener writes that Jesus’ actions show “how true disciples adopt the concerns of Jesus as their own and follow in his steps.”[5] This is true. John was to care for Mary because John was now to live the life of the Son upon the earth after the Son would rise from the dead and ascend to heaven. The point is that John’s call to take upon himself the life and actions and responsibilities of Jesus extends beyond John to all of Jesus’ disciples throughout the ages.

John was to be a son to Mary. We, the Church, are to be the son to the world. Not, I should add, ontologically. Not essentially. We cannot literally be Christ. We remain the creation and He remains forever the sovereign Creator. Not essentially, but functionally, in our lives, we are to hear and heed and act upon the very same call that Jesus offered John. We too are to continue the life of Jesus in the world.

While we are not literally Christ, our continuation of His life and ministry upon the earth, in His name and through the enabling power of the Spirit, is so identified with Christ that Paul, in Ephesians 5:23, wrote, “Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior,” and in Colossians 1:24 wrote, “in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church,” and in 1 Corinthians 12:27 wrote, “Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.”

In other words, just as John would now in the particular situation of caring for Mary be the body of Christ to her, so too the Church will now, in our global situation, be the body of Christ to the world. The Dutch theologian and New Testament scholar Herman Ridderbos put this dynamic nicely when he argued that “it is doubtful…that the meaning of this narrative is limited to this personal dimension…The Evangelist’s focus is elsewhere.” Ridderbos then explained:

For in the relationship that the dying Jesus establishes between these two persons, who of all of them were the closest to him, he paradigmatically contracts the image of the coming community that he is leaving behind on earth, but also bringing under the care that in his time on earth he has provided, and through which in the new dispensation after his death he himself will continue his work…Mary will from this moment on step back as his mother and uniquely reflect the image of the community that remains behind on earth. The disciple whom Jesus loves no less significantly represents those whom Jesus has bound to himself from the beginning to be his witnesses and to continue his work on earth.[6]

Hear then, Church, the third word from the cross to you: “behold, the Son.” As John was to continue the duties, responsibilities, and life of the Son for Mary, we are to continue the very same for the world.

The third word from the cross reveals a new family on the earth.

There is something else. There is also a note about what the internal life of this Christ-continuing fellowship of disciples is to look like. Namely, it is to look like a family.

If you step back and look at this scene, you will notice something interesting. Jesus, understandably, makes provisions for His mother because Jesus was the eldest son of the family. However, Jesus was not the only son in the family. We see in the New Testament that after the virgin birth of Christ, Mary and Joseph commenced normal marital relations and Mary had other children. Thus, Jesus had half-brothers and sisters for they shared a common mother but not a common father.

Why, then, did the eldest son, Jesus, not entrust the care of His mother to the next eldest son, one of his half-brothers? The answer to that is found in John 7:5, a very short verse that reads, “For not even his brothers believed in him.” In other words, Jesus could have appealed to the more natural responsibility of the next oldest son to care for Mary, but in doing so He would have been entrusting His mother to the care of a non-believer. Put another way, Jesus chose to entrust the care of His mother to a follower of Jesus who was not her son instead of to a denier of Jesus who was her son. In time, His brothers would come to believe, but they did not yet, so Jesus calls upon John to fulfill the role of a son.

What is happening here? What is happening is that in calling upon believing John to care for His mother instead of upon one of His unbelieving half-brothers, Jesus was demonstrating that His cross and empty tomb now creates a new family dynamic that is grounded not in the biology of relational blood but in the new creation of the Lamb’s blood.

Church, this is a staggering development!

Craig Keener argues that “Jesus’ entrusting his mother to a disciple rather than to unbelieving siblings…suggests that the ties of the believing community must be stronger than natural familial bonds.”[7] James Montgomery Boice puts it even more poignantly when he writes, “we sense that the Lord is here bringing into existence a new family based on his atonement.”[8] Put most basically, this means that the gospel redefines and changes how we define the word “family.”

Stanley Hauerwas has provocatively said that “it must be admitted that none of the Gospels portray Jesus as family-friendly.”[9] In a sense, Hauerwas has a point. For starters, Jesus said some rather astounding things about families that really are quite shocking, even when properly understood! For instance, in Luke 9, we read this:

⁵⁹ To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” ⁶⁰ And Jesus said to him, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” ⁶¹ Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” ⁶² Jesus said to him, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

Again, on the surface, this does not seem very sensitive to the relational dynamics, not to say the responsibilities, one naturally feels toward one’s biological family. Even more unsettling, in Luke 14, we find this:

²⁵ Now great crowds accompanied him, and he turned and said to them, ²⁶ “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. ²⁷ Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.

This is not the place for a detailed examination of these passages other than to say that Jesus was speaking in the vain of prophetic hyperbole in order to make a significant point about the priorities of our affections. Clearly He was not calling upon us to sin by literally hating our families and clearly He did not hate His own family. The third word from the cross clearly establishes that fact. But to offer these initial interpretations is not to attempt to lessen the shock of Jesus’ words, for even rightly understood they remain somewhat disquieting and require us to trust His wisdom more than our own understandings of “family.” They are revolutionary words, transformative words. They inform us that the coming of Christ forever alters what we think we know about the nature of families.

Jesus had already suggested this reality in an earlier episode in Mark 3:31-35 when His “biological” (so to speak) family came to launch something of an intervention with Him.

³¹ And his mother and his brothers came, and standing outside they sent to him and called him. ³² And a crowd was sitting around him, and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers are outside, seeking you.” ³³ And he answered them, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” ³⁴ And looking about at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! ³⁵ For whoever does the will of God, he is my brother and sister and mother.”

I would propose that this particular text is key to our understanding the new family that Christ came to form. Here, Jesus defines family as “whoever does the will of God,” by which He means the will of His Father as He demonstrated, taught, modeled, and then fulfilled it. That is to say, our first family is now the gathered and redeemed people of God the world over.

The New Testament speaks more than once of the creation of a new people in and through Christ. The classic text for this is found in 1 Peter 2.

⁹ But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. ¹⁰ Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.

Jesus Christ came to establish a new people. He came to establish a priestly people, a chosen people, a royal people, a people who used to be on the outside but are not on the inside. Alongside this, we know that the New Testament often speaks of the Church as a household. For instance, we see this in Ephesians 2.

¹⁹ So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, ²⁰ built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, ²¹ in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. ²² In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.

God has called a people together. God has brought them under a common roof in a common household. Christ Jesus is the cornerstone and the foundation of the house. The house is intended to grow together. And, most amazing of all, God dwells among us through His Spirit.

This is what we mean when we say that much more is happening in this third word than simple provision by the Son for His mother. That is happening, but in this word Jesus also revealed that all He had hinted at before was now, through His work on the cross, coming to fruition: we are now a new people, a new family, under a common roof, living and doing life together. Who is? The people who are gathered at the foot of the cross: followers of Jesus, disciples, the Church.

This third word becomes therefore the word that reveals the reality of the gathered Church. “Woman, behold your son! Son, behold your mother! World, behold the Church! I am now present among you through my people, my bride, and my body: the Church!”

Church, may God have mercy upon us if we do not continue the life of Christ, for it is mercy we will need if we abandon this high privilege offered to us through Jesus.

[1] https://www.nbcchicago.com/news/local/Son-Shields-Mom-From-Gunfire-Dies-Saving-Her-in-South-Chicago-308843771.html

[2] D.A. Carson, The Gospel According to John. The Pillar New Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1991), p.615.

[3] Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon. (New York, NY: Basic Books, 2000), p.82.

[4] R. Kent Hughes, John. (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 1999), p.446.

[5] Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of John. Vol. 2 (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 2003), p.1144.

[6] Herman Ridderbos, The Gospel of John. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1992), p.612-613.

[7] Craig S. Keener, p.1145.

[8] James Montgomery Boice, The Gospel of John. Vol.5 (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1999), p.1518.

[9] Stanley Hauerwas, Cross-Shattered Christ. (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2004), p.50.

Exodus 22

¹ “If a man steals an ox or a sheep, and kills it or sells it, he shall repay five oxen for an ox, and four sheep for a sheep. ² If a thief is found breaking in and is struck so that he dies, there shall be no bloodguilt for him, ³ but if the sun has risen on him, there shall be bloodguilt for him. He shall surely pay. If he has nothing, then he shall be sold for his theft. ⁴ If the stolen beast is found alive in his possession, whether it is an ox or a donkey or a sheep, he shall pay double. ⁵ “If a man causes a field or vineyard to be grazed over, or lets his beast loose and it feeds in another man’s field, he shall make restitution from the best in his own field and in his own vineyard. ⁶ “If fire breaks out and catches in thorns so that the stacked grain or the standing grain or the field is consumed, he who started the fire shall make full restitution. ⁷ “If a man gives to his neighbor money or goods to keep safe, and it is stolen from the man’s house, then, if the thief is found, he shall pay double. ⁸ If the thief is not found, the owner of the house shall come near to God to show whether or not he has put his hand to his neighbor’s property. ⁹ For every breach of trust, whether it is for an ox, for a donkey, for a sheep, for a cloak, or for any kind of lost thing, of which one says, ‘This is it,’ the case of both parties shall come before God. The one whom God condemns shall pay double to his neighbor. ¹⁰ “If a man gives to his neighbor a donkey or an ox or a sheep or any beast to keep safe, and it dies or is injured or is driven away, without anyone seeing it, ¹¹ an oath by the Lord shall be between them both to see whether or not he has put his hand to his neighbor’s property. The owner shall accept the oath, and he shall not make restitution. ¹² But if it is stolen from him, he shall make restitution to its owner. ¹³ If it is torn by beasts, let him bring it as evidence. He shall not make restitution for what has been torn. ¹⁴ “If a man borrows anything of his neighbor, and it is injured or dies, the owner not being with it, he shall make full restitution. ¹⁵ If the owner was with it, he shall not make restitution; if it was hired, it came for its hiring fee.

We are in a section of the book of Exodus that, at times, can feel a bit overwhelming with its legal codes and discussions of societal justice. Specifically, we are currently studying a section of the book of Exodus known as “the covenant codes” or “The Book of the Covenant.” In an effort to offer some perspective and context, let me show a diagram that was developed by Terence E. Fretheim.

Fretheim offers a number of reasons why this story-law-story-law-story structure is important. Among the reasons are these:

• “God is the subject in both law and narrative. God is the giver of the law and the chief actor in the narrative.”

• “Law is more clearly seen a gift of God’s graciousness when tied to story.”

• “Narrative keeps the personal character of the law front and center.”

• “This integration keeps divine action and human response closely related to each other.”

• “The motivation given for obedience to law is contained in the narrative: you were slaves in the land of Egypt, therefore you are to shape your lives toward the disadvantaged in ways both compassionate and just (22:21-17; 23:9).

• “Tradition has given the word Torah to both law and narrative genres. The force of this is that the Pentateuch is instruction…in both its laws and its stories.”[1]

Perhaps that is helpful. It shows us, when we are tempted to get frustrated with the details, many of the particulars of which are bound to a particular time and place, that there is a rhyme and reason for the structure of the book. Most significantly, the weaving of these law sections into the story do keep them from drifting into the merely theoretical or even the merely legal. On the contrary, these laws represent the gracious gift of God to an ancient people who needed to maintain a just societal order and life together just as we do today.

Our text is dealing specifically with the principle of private property and the right handling of it. Furthermore it outlines what should happen when this right is violated.

The right of private property should be honored and appropriate restitution should be paid when it is violated.

I am not, of course, trying to project our modern capitalistic society onto ancient Israel when I refer to “the right of private property.” Even so, wherever there are prohibitions against theft, there is an implicit acknowledgment of the rights of property owners not to have their property stolen by those who do not own it. It is easy to see how such a recognition is critical to maintaining social order, for if one may simply take whatever one wants from whomever one wants to steal from, chaos will soon ensue.

¹ “If a man steals an ox or a sheep, and kills it or sells it, he shall repay five oxen for an ox, and four sheep for a sheep. ² If a thief is found breaking in and is struck so that he dies, there shall be no bloodguilt for him, ³ but if the sun has risen on him, there shall be bloodguilt for him. He shall surely pay. If he has nothing, then he shall be sold for his theft.

If you steal an ox, you must repay five oxen. The text immediately preceding this sought to establish the principle of proportionate response in its articulation of lex talionis (“an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth”). Even so, it is necessary to establish a reasonable deterrent for the stealing of property. After all, stealing an ox in an agrarian society is never merely stealing an ox. Rather, it is stealing the ox, diminishing the owner’s ability to complete as much work as he could with the ox, and, ultimately, taking food out of the mouths of the owner’s family as well as money from him if he sells some of his produce or hires the ox out for building or labor projects. In other words, to steal an ox is to threaten, in a very real way, the security of a family. Thus, if you steal an ox or a sheep, you must repay five oxen or four sheep.

Verse 2 and 3 suggests that a man may rightly protect his family from a thief breaking in at night. Verse 3, however, is very interesting and is somewhat difficult to interpret. William H.C. Propp of the University of California has proposed that the text can be interpreted either spatially (“the text might be differentiating between robbing an open-air enclosure as opposed to a roofed domicile”) or temporally (“it could be a simple day vs. night distinction”). If it is spatial, it could simply be saying that “a man breaking into a house may be presumed to be a murderer” but “a man breaking out has already shown his milder intentions.” If this is the correct interpretation, it would suggest that you cannot kill a man as he is fleeing your property, even if he has stolen. He obviously is not there to take a life.

Propp, however, argues for a temporal interpretation, which means that the text could refer to sunrise (“if a day has passed, then to kill the burglar would be a crime of cold blood not self-defense”) or it could mean “by day.” Propp explains:

Job 24:13-17 associates the nighttime with nefarious deeds in general, including housebreaking (vv 14,16)…It makes sense to be more cautious at night. By day, a thief might assume that a home is empty; at night, his assumption would be that it is occupied. Moreover, by night there can be no testimony as to the thief’s identity, nor can he be easily tracked…Decisive are the parallels from other cultures that permit a man to defend his property to the utmost – but only at night.[2]

There is wisdom here, though the wording of our text is perhaps too ambiguous for us to be dogmatic on any one of the proposed interpretations. Regardless, this much seems to be the case with any of these proposals: you cannot set up a mechanistic cause-and-effect scenario whereby you have the right to kill a person simply because he has broken into your home. It also seems clear that a person breaking in at night would seem to suggest at least the possibility of more nefarious motives, thereby justifying a more severe response, than would a person breaking in during the day or a person fleeing your house into the light of day. In offering this qualification, the right to protect one’s family is safeguarded while parameters are put into place to keep bloodshed from happening if it can be reasonably established that the thief is not there to kill those in the home.

⁴ If the stolen beast is found alive in his possession, whether it is an ox or a donkey or a sheep, he shall pay double. ⁵ “If a man causes a field or vineyard to be grazed over, or lets his beast loose and it feeds in another man’s field, he shall make restitution from the best in his own field and in his own vineyard. ⁶ “If fire breaks out and catches in thorns so that the stacked grain or the standing grain or the field is consumed, he who started the fire shall make full restitution.

Here again, appropriate restitution is required when the property of another is destroyed through either malevolent intent or carelessness.

It should be pointed out that there is another way that we can sin against one another through property. In the 6^th century, Gregory the Great pointed out that it is also possible to be guilty of harming another by withholding one’s goods from those in need, a point on which, Gregory argued, the New Testament is actually more stringent than the Old.

Some people consider the commandments of the Old Testament stricter than those of the New, but they are deceived by a shortsighted interpretation. In the Old Testament, theft, not miserliness, is punished: wrongful taking of property is punished by fourfold restitution. In the New Testament the rich man is not censured for having taken away someone else’s property but for not having given away his own. He is not said to have forcibly wronged anyone but to have prided himself on what he received.[3]

Gregory was speaking of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31), the former of whom went to hades when he died and the latter of whom went to Abraham’s bosom. In truth, he could also have been speaking of the rich young ruler (Mark 10:17-22), who only lacked one thing: to sell all he had and give it to the poor. In other words, it is sinful for a man to take what does not belong to him, but it can also be sinful for a man not to give what does belong to him if others are suffering without.

I would like to add that the story of history shows that governments seeking to force this kind of charity by simply confiscating all private property usually end up becoming monstrous and bloody entities of persecution themselves. The story of communism, for instance, is not a pretty story. Even so, most just societies see the need for some kind of reasonable regulations and protections for the poor. At its healthiest, what this looks like is the wealthy freely and generously giving to the poor, though history also shows that this does not happen as frequently as it should. Regardless, it should happen among the people of God.

The degree of guilt is justly less when the right of private property is unintentionally violated than when it is intentionally violated.

Laws need to be clear in a just society, but the circumstances to which laws apply oftentimes are anything but. For instance, it can and sometimes does happen that the property of another is destroyed either carelessly or accidentally. Such a situation is clearly different than a person who sets out with the intent to steal and take from another. Our text acknowledges this reality.

⁷ “If a man gives to his neighbor money or goods to keep safe, and it is stolen from the man’s house, then, if the thief is found, he shall pay double. ⁸ If the thief is not found, the owner of the house shall come near to God to show whether or not he has put his hand to his neighbor’s property. ⁹ For every breach of trust, whether it is for an ox, for a donkey, for a sheep, for a cloak, or for any kind of lost thing, of which one says, ‘This is it,’ the case of both parties shall come before God. The one whom God condemns shall pay double to his neighbor. ¹⁰ “If a man gives to his neighbor a donkey or an ox or a sheep or any beast to keep safe, and it dies or is injured or is driven away, without anyone seeing it, ¹¹ an oath by the Lord shall be between them both to see whether or not he has put his hand to his neighbor’s property. The owner shall accept the oath, and he shall not make restitution. ¹² But if it is stolen from him, he shall make restitution to its owner. ¹³ If it is torn by beasts, let him bring it as evidence. He shall not make restitution for what has been torn. ¹⁴ “If a man borrows anything of his neighbor, and it is injured or dies, the owner not being with it, he shall make full restitution. ¹⁵ If the owner was with it, he shall not make restitution; if it was hired, it came for its hiring fee.

This offers an important nuance to the law, a nuance that offered some protection to the one in whose care the property of another was placed but who did not steal the property or damage it willfully or even knowingly. There is also a strong note of divine arbitration in this text. For instance, consider verse 9:

⁹ For every breach of trust, whether it is for an ox, for a donkey, for a sheep, for a cloak, or for any kind of lost thing, of which one says, ‘This is it,’ the case of both parties shall come before God. The one whom God condemns shall pay double to his neighbor.

Two things should be said about this. First, the need to appeal to the Lord suggests that many situations are not terribly clear-cut regarding who exactly is at fault and what the penalty should be. This should be kept in mind. There are situations the reality of which only God knows and only God can decide. Furthermore, these situations would presumably need the mediation of the people of God unless God makes it clear directly to the hearts and minds of the parties what the reality is. In the age of the Church, this will likely result in something like the mediation of wise and trusted Christian friends who are capable of being objective and judicious in disputes between members. This is what Paul called for in 1 Corinthians 6.

¹ When one of you has a grievance against another, does he dare go to law before the unrighteous instead of the saints? ² Or do you not know that the saints will judge the world? And if the world is to be judged by you, are you incompetent to try trivial cases? ³ Do you not know that we are to judge angels? How much more, then, matters pertaining to this life! ⁴ So if you have such cases, why do you lay them before those who have no standing in the church? ⁵ I say this to your shame. Can it be that there is no one among you wise enough to settle a dispute between the brothers, ⁶ but brother goes to law against brother, and that before unbelievers? ⁷ To have lawsuits at all with one another is already a defeat for you. Why not rather suffer wrong? Why not rather be defrauded? ⁸ But you yourselves wrong and defraud—even your own brothers!

The Lord may yet speak directly in such matters, but it would seem that He normally speaks through the Church. In our highly individualistic day in which ecclesiology is weakened by a heightened since of isolation, humanity, and detachment from the community of God, such an appeal to and acceptance of the wisdom of our brothers and sisters in Christ will feel odd at first, but it may just be that we are missing a great blessing by not asking trusted followers of Jesus to help us in our disputes (with other Christians) over property and the like.

Within the church, we should seek to live honestly and uprightly with one another, offering restitution when we have wronged another, yet striving to show Christ-like compassion and Kingdom priorities when we are the one who is wronged.

As with all of these laws, we must ask how we should follow them in a day in which the cultural particulars are in many ways quite different than the particulars of ancient Israel. To begin with, we should perhaps question whether or not our day really is all that different. After all, disputes concerning property are as old as humanity itself, and in our materialistic age, when we have more than any people before us have ever had, they are very common indeed.

Concerning the basic principle of restitution, we see it honored in the New Testament. Consider the story of Zacchaeus in Luke 19.

¹ He entered Jericho and was passing through. ² And behold, there was a man named Zacchaeus. He was a chief tax collector and was rich. ³ And he was seeking to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was small in stature. ⁴ So he ran on ahead and climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him, for he was about to pass that way. ⁵ And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.” ⁶ So he hurried and came down and received him joyfully. ⁷ And when they saw it, they all grumbled, “He has gone in to be the guest of a man who is a sinner.” ⁸ And Zacchaeus stood and said to the Lord, “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor. And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold.” ⁹ And Jesus said to him, “Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham. ¹⁰ For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”

Zacchaeus’ statement that he would give half his goods to the poor and “fourfold” to anyone who he defrauded shows a basic resonance with the principles of Old Testament law. The difference, of course, is that Zacchaeus was standing before Jesus. This means he offered restitution freely, gladly, and out of a since of gratitude for the greater gift he had been giving. For Zacchaeus, this was not about “obeying the law,” this was about honoring Jesus Christ and living the new life to which he had been called in Christ.

So should it ever be with us. We read these laws with gracious hearts because they reveal to us the heart of God. In Jesus, we find a motivation than transcends mere fear (though fear yet has its place). In Jesus we find the motivation of love. We refuse to steal because we love God and love our neighbor. We refuse to defraud because to do so dishonors the great gift that has been given to us through Christ.

Yet there is another truth about the Christian’s approach to property and theft and restitution, and it is a painful but necessary truth. It is this: for the Christian, getting back what was taken is no longer the greatest good or the highest priority. Desiring as we should for all men to come to Jesus, exacting justice upon a thief and reclaiming what was ours can no longer be the end-all-be-all for us. Instead, the salvation of the thief must matter to us more. I think this helps us understand what is happening in Matthew 5.

³⁸ “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ ³⁹ But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. ⁴⁰ And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. ⁴¹ And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. ⁴² Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you.

What we see here is Jesus (a) acknowledging that certain things are ours (“your tunic…your cloak”) but (b) asking us to prize and value something more than what we own: our own souls and the soul of the one who is taking from us. He is asking us to value our own souls by not allowing ourselves to be so bound to temporal goods that we cannot simply let them go. He is asking us to value the soul of the one taking from us by stepping outside of the arena of pure justice and instead infusing the situation with the grace that forgiveness brings.

In truth, there is one thing that goes much further than prison or a fine in rehabilitating the heart of a thief, and that is forgiveness and grace. That is a scary prospect for us. After all, we want to get back that which was stolen. But the point is this: would you have greater joy in regaining a temporal good or in gaining a brother or sister in Christ? In James 5, James wrote:

¹⁹ My brothers, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and someone brings him back, ²⁰ let him know that whoever brings back a sinner from his wandering will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.

In Matthew 18, Jesus put it like this:

¹⁵ If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother.

“Gaining your brother” and “bringing back a sinner from his wandering” should be the greatest goal of the follow of Jesus. What if your simply giving the item to the thief would move him to repentance? What if your refusing to press charges would show him the better way of grace?

To do so is to risk, but not really. If the thief does not repent, we are left with the good pleasure of the Father who sees us trying to bless and love our enemies. If the thief does repent, we receive the good pleasure of the Father and win a brother or sister as well.

In 2007, WMC-TV in Memphis ran a report about a ninety-two year old woman from Dyersburg, Tennessee, who got into her car in a Wal-Mart parking lot only to have an armed robber get into her car as well and demand all of her money. She refused, informing the man that were he to shoot her she would immediately go to heaven with Jesus whereas he would go to hell! She then shared the gospel with the man for ten minutes, at the conclusion of which, the robber began to cry, told her he would not rob her, informed her that he needed to go pray, and then kissed her on the cheek. In turn, she freely gave him all the money she had, which was ten dollars.[4]

To be sure, such courage and bold witnessing will not always be met with tears and repentance. It may very well be met with violence and even death. Even so, this lady’s amazing actions stand as a stark reminder that we should value the thief’s soul more than we value either our property or our lives. Perhaps the example of this dear lady can remind us of this fact.

Church, there are things more important than property.

Surely Jesus has taught us that? Let us choose the way that is better than vengeance or a blind demand for justice at any and all costs.

[1] Terence E. Fretheim, Exodus. Interpretation (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), p.201-207.

[2] William H.C. Propp, Exodus 19-40. The Anchor Bible. Vol.2A. (New York, NY: Doubleday, 2006), p.240-241.

[3] Joseph T. Lienhard, ed., Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. Old Testament, Vol.III (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2001), p.114.

[4] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fDmp967UMds

Luke 23

³⁹ One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” ⁴⁰ But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? ⁴¹ And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” ⁴² And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” ⁴³ And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

In Act I of Samuel Beckett’s enigmatic play, “Waiting for Godot,” the two main characters, Vladimir and Estragon, are in conversation when Vladimir alludes to the penitent thief on the cross.

VLADIMIR: Ah yes, the two thieves. Do you remember the story?

ESTRAGON: No.

VLADIMIR: Shall I tell it to you?

ESTRAGON: No.

VLADIMIR: It’ll pass the time. (Pause.) Two thieves, crucified at the same time as our Saviour. One—

ESTRAGON: Our what?

VLADIMIR: Our Saviour. Two thieves. One is supposed to have been saved and the other . . . (he searches for the contrary of saved) . . . damned.

ESTRAGON: Saved from what?

VLADIMIR: Hell.

ESTRAGON: I’m going. (He does not move.)

VLADIMIR: And yet…(pause)…how is it – this is not boring you I hope – how is it that of the four Evangelists only one speaks of a thief being saved. The four of them were there – or thereabouts – and only one speaks of a thief being saved…

ESTRAGON: (with exaggerated enthusiasm). I find this really most extraordinarily interesting.

VLADIMIR: One out of four. Of the other three, two don’t mention any thieves at all and the third says that both of them abused him…

ESTRAGON: Well what of it?

VLADIMIR: Then the two of them must have been damned.

ESTRAGON: And why not?

VLADIMIR: But one of the four says that one of the two was saved.

ESTRAGON: Well? They don’t agree and that’s all there is to it.

VLADIMIR: But all four were there. And only one speaks of a thief being saved. Why believe him rather than the others?

ESTRAGON: Who believes him?

VLADIMIR: Everybody. It’s the only version they know.

It is a fascinating conversation to overhear, and one that raises an interesting question. In reality, three of the gospels, the three synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke), don’t mention the two thieves at all and, yes, only one mentions that one of the two repented. Vladimir, looking at that fact from a purely numerical vantage point, is bothered by this fact. His suggestion is that the episode with the penitent thief is a minority reading and therefore has less weight.

Of course, that is not a good way to do Bible interpretation. The four gospels highlight different things throughout, and the absence of a scene from one gospel that is present in another does not mean that the scene did not happen. On the contrary, I would propose that we see Luke’s inclusion of the thief’s repentance is a fortunate and, indeed, a beautiful thing, for it provides us with an amazing insight into the nature of Christ, the nature of His love for lost humanity, the nature of saving faith, the nature of the cross, and the nature of eternal life.

The audacious certainty and immediacy of eternal life in Jesus.

The first thing we notice is that there is a kind of audacity about our text. This is found in the amazing response of Jesus to the thief’s dying appeal. Before we get to that, though, let us consider the thief.

³⁹ One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” ⁴⁰ But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? ⁴¹ And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” ⁴² And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” ⁴³ And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

In truth, we do not know much about this condemned criminal. He is known traditionally as “the penitent thief,” a title that contrasts him with the unpenitent thief that hung on the other side of Jesus. William Barlcay has passed on some of the legends that have grown up around this thief.

Legend has been busy with the penitent thief. He is called variously Dismas, Demas and Dumachus. One legend makes him a Judaean Robin Hood who robbed the rich to give to the poor. The loveliest legend tells how the holy family was attacked by robbers when they fled with Jesus, as a little child, from Bethlehem to Egypt. Jesus was saved by the kindness of a youth who was the son of the captain of the robber band. The little baby Jesus was so lovely that the young brigand could not bear to lay hands on Him but set Him free, saying, “O most blessed of children, if ever there come a time for having mercy on me, then remember me and forget not this hour.” So, they say, that the robber youth who had saved Jesus when He was a baby, met Him again on a Cross on Calvary; and this time Jesus saved him.[1]

That is all very interesting…and very fanciful. On the basis of our text, we know this about him: (1) he was a criminal, (2) he initially mocked Jesus with the other condemned criminal and the crowd, (3) at some point during his crucifixion he came to see the truth about Jesus, changed his mind, and rebuked the other thief, (4) he saw himself as guilty, (5) he saw Jesus as innocent, and (6) he saw Jesus as one having authority, and (7) he cried out for Jesus to save him.

I mentioned that there is a glorious audacity in our text and that it resides largely in Jesus’ response to the thief, but there is something audacious in the thief as well, namely, his cry for Jesus to save him. First, the thief on the cross makes bold to cry out for remembrance and `salvation when just some moments before he was mocking Jesus. It takes a radical change of heart and a daring faith to mock in one moment and cry out for mercy the next. Furthermore, Richard John Neuhaus points out that the thief referring to Jesus simply as “Jesus” in verse 42 marks “the only time in any Gospel account that someone addresses Jesus simply by name. Otherwise it is always ‘Jesus Son of God,’ ‘Jesus Son of David’ or some other form of particular respect.” Neuhaus concludes, “Dying together is a great social leveler.”[2]

It is interesting, is it not? When we reach the end of our ropes and the end of our lives, suddenly we lose our pretensions and are ready for raw honesty. The thief calling Jesus “Jesus” was not demonstrating insolence, he was demonstrating the raw, naked reality of the moment in which he realized that death had come for him, that this Jesus truly is the King, and that he is not in right relationship with him. Notably, instead of screaming out justifications for his actions and behaviors, and instead of crying out that he had been misunderstood, he confesses his guilt and boldly calls Jesus by name.

I am using the word “audacity” here to refer to shocking and unsettling boldness, not foolish arrogance. There is indeed a glorious and disarming audacity about this man, of all men, on this cross, on this hill, on this day presuming to say the name: “Jesus.” It is the cry of faith that must pass the lips of all who will be saved. It is the “end of your rope” plea for mercy, the evidence of a realization of the stark and inescapable reality of impending judgment and, significantly, of one’s undeniable guilt. It is a guilty man turning to an innocent King and saying, “Could you possibly have mercy on even a wretch like me?”

And in response, Jesus offers the second word from the cross.

“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

There is an audacious certainty about this promise: a man dying on a cross guaranteeing paradise to another man dying on a cross. Behold the gospel! The audacious certainty is found in the first word of this second word from the cross: “Truly.” It is a common refrain with Jesus, this “truly.” New Testament scholar Darrell Bock notes that “the ‘truly I say to you’ formula represents Jesus’ most solemn way to reassure his neighbor.”[3]

It is Jesus’ guarantee! It is Jesus’ word! It is Jesus’ promise!

“Truly…”

This is the very opposite of the evasive tactics I employ when I am asked something awkward or something I am not ready to answer or something that I simply do not want to answer. In such cases, I tend to say, “Well, let us ponder that further,” or, “Let me get back to you on that.” To my daughter I sometimes say, “We’ll see…”

We may thank God that Jesus did not indulge in such obfuscation, such evasive fog. On the contrary, in answer to the thief’s plea to be remembered, Jesus boldly says, “Truly…This is going to happen!”

In reality, this bold proclamation is not only unlike my evasive dodging of uncomfortable or inconvenient questions, it is also utterly unlike my own promises! In reality, even when we intend to express certainty, who among us can do so in truth? Even our promises tend to be subject to the external realities that besiege us. This is true of all human beings precisely because uncertainty is one of the many tragic consequences of the fall. This is why Jesus warned us against worrying about tomorrow, for we do not really know what is going to happen tomorrow. We do not even know what is going to happen today.

But Jesus knows what is going to happen today: “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

In the prayers of the ninth hour in The Daily Prayer Book for Orthodox Christians

O Master, Lord Jesus Christ our God, thou hast led us to the present hour, in which, as thou hung upon the life-giving Tree, thou didst make a way into Paradise for the penitent thief, and by death destroyed death…We implore thine unending goodness: Spare us, O Lord, according to the multitude of thy mercies, and save us for thy holy name’s sake, for our days are passing away in vanity. Take us from the hand of the adversary and forgive us our sins…[4]

Such cries for salvation depend upon the audacious certainty that Jesus exhibited in His answer. There is also a startling immediacy to Jesus’ answer.

“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Jesus pronounces that the dying thief will be with him “today.” Today!

There is a bit of hermeneutical or interpretive problem here, or at least a textual (relative) uncertainty. In a very perceptive article entitled, “The Believer’s Intermediate State After Death,” Larry Waters explains the problem of the comma.

The major interpretive problem here is whether a comma should be placed before or after the word “today” in Jesus’ sentence. Some say Jesus said, “I say to you today, you will be with me in Paradise.” Others say Jesus said, “I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” No punctuation is in the Greek, but the natural reading of the verse agrees with the second rendering. “Today” means “this very day,” and “with me” means a beautiful place associated with genuine, close fellowship with Christ (cf. John 17:24).

Waters then quotes Bock as saying, “This emphasis on the current day involves an immediacy that Luke likes to use (2:11; 4:21; 5:26; 13:32-33; 22:34, 61)…It seems…that some sense of moving immediately into an intermediate state, conscious of God’s blessing, is alluded to here.”[5] This has certainly been the dominant reading of the Church throughout the ages, and it fits both the character of Jesus and the tone of the scene.

He is not saying, “Yes, eventually, we will all be together.” He is saying, “You and I will be together in Paradise today!”

What makes it so audacious is the way in which that “today” contrasts with the thief’s life of wickedness and the horror of the crucified moment that the two of them found themselves in when Jesus said. That word “today” is like a shaft of sunlight that breaks through an otherwise impenetrable cover of thick clouds. “Yes, you have lived a life of sin and crime. Yes, we are hanging, each of us, on a cruel and violent cross. But…today you will be with me in Paradise!”

Dear friends, the Lord Jesus Christ does not offer purgatory, does not offer a close examination period, does not offer a waiting period, does not offer a heavenly foyer, and does not offer second-class citizenship in the Kingdom on the basis of the heinousness of the thief’s crimes. No. He offers salvation today! Life today! Forgiveness today! Mercy today! Today! Now! Here! Right now!

Why would you wait when life is offered to you today?!

Jesus offers certain and immediate fulfillment…and that points us to the beautiful unfairness of forgiveness.

The beautiful unfairness of forgiveness in Jesus.

What do I mean by “beautiful unfairness”? I mean that, from a human perspective, there is something profoundly unfair about Jesus’s promise.

“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Jesus promises the penitent thief Paradise “today.” Now, theologically, this has raised some questions about how we are to understand the nature of heaven. We know that our bodies will be resurrected at the end of all things and we will live for all eternity with our resurrected, transformed bodies in Heaven. But here Jesus promises, “today you will be with me in Paradise.” This suggests that there is a realm of conscious bliss with Jesus that exists before the final resurrection. Theologian James Leo Garrett, Jr., explains.

Unless one should affirm that resurrection in its completeness occurs for every human being at the time of death or unless one should hold that human death effects a cessation of existence, the Christian thinker faces as reality some kind of postmortal, preresurrection state – unless the eternal is to destroy all semblance of meaning for time…Protestant theologians have commonly referred to this state as “the intermediate state,” since it seemingly stands between death and resurrection, but, so as to emphasize the non-corporeal nature of the state, it has also been called “the disembodied state.” Alvah Hovey called it “the middle state,” and James Robinson Graves “the middle life,” consisting of Paradise and Tartarus.[6]

In Millard Erickson’s consideration of the intermediate state, he concludes that “upon death believers go immediately to a place and condition of blessedness, and unbelievers to an experience of misery, torment, and punishment,” but that, while these two places will end up being their final abode after the resurrection of their bodies, “the experiences of paradise and Hades are doubtless not as intense as what will ultimately be, since the person is in a somewhat incomplete condition.”[7]

Well, that is a provocative thought, to be sure, and perhaps there may be justification here for appealing to some sort of disembodied pre-resurrection intermediate state called Paradise distinguished from Heaven by virtue of it being a disembodied state, but it is indeed difficult to understand how being with Jesus in Paradise before the final resurrection could be less “intense” than being with Jesus in our resurrected state in Heaven. I hasten to add that I do understand why Erickson makes the argument, for, in such a scenario, there is a kind of incompleteness in Paradise for our bodies have yet to be raised. Even so, the incompleteness would be on our side, not on Jesus, and being with Jesus in Paradise would a blissful condition the intensity of which it would be impossible to measure.

All of that is interesting, and it holds relative importance to be sure, but let me suggest that the most astounding theological conundrum is not the exact state of the post-mortem, pre-resurrection state, but rather the fact that a scoundrel and a thief can cry out to Jesus in his final dying moments and, just like that, all of the accumulated wickedness of his life can be covered by the blood of Christ and he can be saved!

Neuhaus puts it nicely: “The first one home is a thief. Jesus is not very fastidious about the company he keeps.”[8]

Indeed He is not…and for that we may thank Almighty God!

It must be admitted, again, that from a human vantage point this is staggeringly unfair. Why does this guy and his life of crime get as much Paradise upon death as a man who dies without ever having been in jail? Why does a thief get to be with Jesus as much as your saintly Grandmother? Why does the one comes into the Kingdom at the end of the day get given just as much as the one who came at the beginning of the day? It reminds us, does it not, of the words of Jesus from Matthew 20.

¹ “For the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. ² After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius a day, he sent them into his vineyard. ³ And going out about the third hour he saw others standing idle in the marketplace, ⁴ and to them he said, ‘You go into the vineyard too, and whatever is right I will give you.’ ⁵ So they went. Going out again about the sixth hour and the ninth hour, he did the same. ⁶ And about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing. And he said to them, ‘Why do you stand here idle all day?’ ⁷ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You go into the vineyard too.’ ⁸ And when evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first.’ ⁹ And when those hired about the eleventh hour came, each of them received a denarius. ¹⁰ Now when those hired first came, they thought they would receive more, but each of them also received a denarius. ¹¹ And on receiving it they grumbled at the master of the house, ¹² saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ ¹³ But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? ¹⁴ Take what belongs to you and go. I choose to give to this last worker as I give to you. ¹⁵ Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?’ ¹⁶ So the last will be first, and the first last.”

Ah! This is what the Kingdom is like. Thieves and vagabonds and murderers and terrorists, if they cry out in true repentance and faith, even if it is in their last moment, will be as saved the saintly elderly woman who was on the cradle roll of the church eighty-five years ago and has never missed a morning worship service.

It is so unfair…it is so beautifully unfair. I say beautifully unfair because “fairness” is not really a standard we want. Want to know why? Here is the secret: because we are all thieves and vagabonds and murderers and terrorists, and “fair” does not result in the you getting a little more than the dying thief, “fair” results in Jesus coming off the cross and you and me and the dying thief all being cast into hell.

Thank…God…the…Kingdom…is…not…fair!

I do not want fair. You do not either. That will not work out for any of us. I want mercy. And here is the thing about mercy: it is, by definition, for the undeserving, and it does not count the measure of the degree of “undeservingness.”

The Kingdom of God is therefore not like an account who scrupulously goes over the books, it is like an accountant who finds a massive debt, pays the debt out of his own pocket, then throws a massive party for all his clients in which they all are invited: those who owed a lot and those who owe a little. The thief is invited to the party just like the saint, and only a fool stands in the middle of a party watching the door with a scowl on his face.

The penitent thief gives hope to penitent thieves like us. The great Russian writer Leo Tolstoy once compared himself to the thief on the cross. I leave you with his words and with an invitation to come to Jesus with just the same audacious hope and plea with which the penitent thief came. Here is what Tolstoy said:

            The thief on the cross believe in Christ, and was saved…Like the thief on the cross, I believed in the doctrine of Christ, and was saved. This is not a vain comparison, but a most accurate expression of my spiritual condition of horror and despair in the presence of life and death, in which I found myself formerly, and of that condition of happiness and peace in which I find myself now.

            Like the thief, I knew that my past and present life was vile; I saw that the majority of men about me lived the same way. I knew, like the thief, that I was wretched and suffering, that all those about me suffered and were wretched; and I saw before me no escape from this condition but in death. As the thief was nailed to his cross, so was I nailed to this life of suffering and evil by an incomprehensible power. And as the thief saw before him, after the senseless and evil sufferings of life, the horrible shadows of death, so did I behold the same prospect.

            In all this I was absolutely like the thief. But there was a difference in our conditions; he was about to die, and I was still alive. The thief might believe that his salvation would be beyond the grave, while I had not only that before me, but also life this side of the grave. I understood nothing of this life, it seemed to me frightful; and then suddenly I heard the words of Christ, and understood them; life and death ceased to seem evil, and instead of despair I tasted the joy and happiness that death could not take away.[9]

[1] William Barclay, The Gospel of Luke. The Daily Study Bible (Edinburgh: The Saint Andrew Press, 1970), p.299.

[2] Richard John Neuhaus, Death on a Friday Afternoon. (New York, NY: Basic Books, 2000), p.36.

[3] Darrell L. Bock, Luke. The IVP New Testament Commentary Series. Vol. 3 (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1994), p.375.

[4] https://www.touchstonemag.com/archives/article.php?id=19-07-026-f

[5] Larry J. Waters, “The Believer’s Intermediate State After Death.” Bibliotheca Sacra. 169 (July-September 2012), p.295, 295n.51.

[6] James Leo Garrett, Jr., Systematic Theology. Second Edition. Vol. 2 (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2014), p.739.

[7] Millard J. Erickson, Christian Theology. Second Edition (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1998), p.1189.

[8] Richard John Neuhaus, p.35.

[9] Leo Tolstoy, The Complete Works of Lyof N. Tolstoi (New York, NY: The Kelmscott Society Publishers, 1899), p.77-78.

Luke 23

³⁴ “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Let me introduce you to Christian de Cherge. He was a Trappist monk, the prior of the Tibhirine monastery in Algeria. In 1993, Christian de Cherge and his brothers refused to leave Algeria after the rise of Islamic radicals and the very real threat of death. And he did die. He and seven other French monks were kidnapped by Muslim radicals on March 26-27, 1996. On May 31^st, their heads were founds. They had been brutally murdered.

After his death, it was discovered that Christian de Cherge had left a letter with his family that was to be opened if he was killed. The letter is quite amazing. In it, the monk tells his family not to listen to those who will use the occasion of his death to depict him as foolish or naïve for not leaving. He points out that “such people should know that my death will satisfy my most burning curiosity.” He then goes on to speak to his coming executioner, the man who would murder him. He writes that he wishes to thank the man. He then tells the man that, when he executes him, “he will not know what he is doing” and says that he hopes they might one day meet in heaven.[1]

It is a powerful thing, these words of forgiveness offered to an executioner. It is powerful because it is so rare, and also because it is counterintuitive. It goes against what we instinctively imagine doing in such a situation. What we imagine doing, of course, is cursing or condemning those who would inflict an unjust death upon us. We imagine using our last words to seek to level the playing field, to mete out some kind of justice in our last moments. That is our natural inclination.

For instance, somebody posted a provocative question on a public forum online and asked, “What would be your last words to someone you hate?” The responses were telling.

“If the paranormal exists, expect me.”

“I hope you die slowly, painfully and alone.”

“I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your life”

“I wish everything you did for me comes back to you twice over.”

“I hope your day is as pleasant as you are.”

This has always been the natural, instinctive reaction of man. For instance, when the Maccabean martyrs, a woman and her seven sons, were murdered by Antiochus IV Epiphanes, they cried out against their accusers:

            Keep on, and see how his mighty power will torture you and your descendants!…But do not think that you will go unpunished for having tried to fight against God!…

            But you, unholy wretch, you most defiled of all mortals, do not be elated in vain and puffed up by uncertain hopes, when you raise your hand against the children of heaven. You have not yet escaped the judgment of the almighty, all-seeing God.[2]

Now that, we understand. Forgiving the ones who have wronged us is a whole other matter. And yet, some have done this. Christian de Cherge did it. Before him, in the Bible, Stephen, one of the first deacons of the Church and the first martyr, did this. In Acts 7, we read this about Stephen’s last words as he is being stoned to death:

⁵⁹ While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.” ⁶⁰ Then he fell on his knees and cried out, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” When he had said this, he fell asleep.

Again, powerful.

Of course, there was one who did this before Stephen did it. In fact, Stephen was merely saying aloud the words of Jesus from the cross as He was dying. Traditionally, the Church has spoken of “the seven last words of Christ from the cross.” That is, Christ made seven statements while on the cross, and each of them carried a power and insight into the nature of God that we need to hear and consider and accept.

The first word of Christ from the cross was, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

We are going to frame our consideration of this first word by looking closely at the first three words that comprise it: “Father forgive them.” Here we see three words, three realities, and three characters in the great story of redemption: “Father forgive them.”

Father: the Almighty God who desires to forgive

forgive: the merciful Savior who enables forgiveness

them: us, the ones who need forgiveness

We will deal with the first and last words, then the second.

Father: the Almighty God who desires to forgive

We first see the Father. This is Jesus’ address to Father God. His attributes are numerous and awesome, but one that we should consider foremost is God’s holiness. The word “holy” appears over 600 times in the Bible.[3] When it describes God, it is describing His otherness, His transcendent majesty, and His majesty and glory as they are revealed in and throughout the earth. His holiness is his perfection. He is holy.

In Exodus 3:5, the presence of God in the burning bush renders the very ground holy.

Then he said, “Do not come near; take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”

Throughout Leviticus, we see God’s holiness repeatedly proclaimed. Thus, in Leviticus 11:44a-45; 20:7,26:

For I am the Lord your God. Consecrate yourselves therefore, and be holy, for I am holy…For I am the Lord who brought you up out of the land of Egypt to be your God. You shall therefore be holy, for I am holy.”

Consecrate yourselves, therefore, and be holy, for I am the Lord your God…You shall be holy to me, for I the Lord am holy and have separated you from the peoples, that you should be mine.

Similarly, we find in1 Samuel 2:2; 6:20a that God is utterly unique in His holiness.

There is none holy like the Lord: for there is none besides you; there is no rock like our God.

Then the men of Beth-shemesh said, “Who is able to stand before the Lord, this holy God?

The psalms are replete with the holiness of God, as we see, for instance, in Psalm 3:4; 5:7; 22:3; 77:13.

I cried aloud to the Lord, and he answered me from his holy hill. Selah

But I, through the abundance of your steadfast love, will enter your house. I will bow down toward your holy temple in the fear of you.

Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel.

Your way, O God, is holy. What god is great like our God?

The last book of the Bible provides us with one of the most beautiful statements on divine glory. We see this in Revelation 4.

¹ After this I looked, and behold, a door standing open in heaven! And the first voice, which I had heard speaking to me like a trumpet, said, “Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after this.” ² At once I was in the Spirit, and behold, a throne stood in heaven, with one seated on the throne. ³ And he who sat there had the appearance of jasper and carnelian, and around the throne was a rainbow that had the appearance of an emerald. ⁴ Around the throne were twenty-four thrones, and seated on the thrones were twenty-four elders, clothed in white garments, with golden crowns on their heads. ⁵ From the throne came flashes of lightning, and rumblings and peals of thunder, and before the throne were burning seven torches of fire, which are the seven spirits of God, ⁶ and before the throne there was as it were a sea of glass, like crystal. And around the throne, on each side of the throne, are four living creatures, full of eyes in front and behind: ⁷ the first living creature like a lion, the second living creature like an ox, the third living creature with the face of a man, and the fourth living creature like an eagle in flight. ⁸ And the four living creatures, each of them with six wings, are full of eyes all around and within, and day and night they never cease to say, “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” ⁹ And whenever the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks to him who is seated on the throne, who lives forever and ever, ¹⁰ the twenty-four elders fall down before him who is seated on the throne and worship him who lives forever and ever. They cast their crowns before the throne, saying, ¹¹ “Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created.”

R.C. Sproul has appealed to [Rudolf] Otto’s “special term for the holy. He called it the mysterium tremendum. A simple translation of this concept is the ‘awful mystery.’” That is a fitting phrase, for His holiness is what most highlights His otherness and distance from us. Sproul also noted the uniqueness of the Bible’s attribution of God as “holy, holy, holy.”

            Only once in sacred Scripture is an attribute of God elevated to the third degree. Only once is a characteristic of God mentioned three times in succession. The Bible says that God is holy, holy, holy. Not that He is merely holy, or even holy, holy. He is holy, holy, holy. The Bible never says that God is love, love, love; or mercy, mercy, mercy; or wrath, wrath, wrath; or justice, justice, justice. It does say that He is holy, holy, holy, that the whole earth is full of His glory.[4]

This is not to privilege holiness above His other attributes. Rather, it is to say that holiness is, in a sense, foundational, that it is critical to our understanding of the divine nature, that it cannot be jettisoned without doing great damage to a proper understanding of who God is.

them: us, the ones who need forgiveness

Jesus first points us to God who is above and He lastly points to man who is below. “Father forgive them.” Between the Father and the “them” there is a staggering gulf and distance, for man is, at heart, a rebel. Man is the crucifier of the One God sends. He always has been.

The writer of Ecclesiastes was not optimistic about the nature of man in Ecclesiastes 7:20, “Surely there is not a righteous man on earth who does good and never sins.” Paul said the same in Romans 3:23 when he wrote, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” That is a well-known passage, but before Paul wrote that he offered a more thorough indictment of human sinfulness.

¹⁰ as it is written: “None is righteous, no, not one; ¹¹ no one understands; no one seeks for God. ¹² All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one.” ¹³ “Their throat is an open grave; they use their tongues to deceive.” “The venom of asps is under their lips.” ¹⁴ “Their mouth is full of curses and bitterness.” ¹⁵ “Their feet are swift to shed blood; ¹⁶ in their paths are ruin and misery, ¹⁷ and the way of peace they have not known.” ¹⁸ “There is no fear of God before their eyes.”

The fundamental tragedy of human sinfulness is the way in which it fractures our relationship with God. God will not live peacefully with a rebellious creation. One of the most jarring examples of this can be found in God’s determination to destroy the earth with water in Genesis 6.

⁵ The Lord saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. ⁶ And the Lord regretted that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart. ⁷ So the Lord said, “I will blot out man whom I have created from the face of the land, man and animals and creeping things and birds of the heavens, for I am sorry that I have made them.”

In the starkest possible of ways, even given the Lord’s promise after His flooding of the earth that He would not do so again, this text demonstrates the ugliness of sin and the fact that God will not forever abide human wickedness. The contrast, then, between “Father” and “them” could not be starker, for the “them” refers to wicked humanity, rebellious humanity, sinful and lost humanity…and the “them” is “us.”

“Them” is all of us.

“Father forgive them” is Christ’s word before the Father concerning the world

Not everybody agrees with this interpretation. A.T. Robertson, for instance, felt that Jesus “evidently is praying for the Roman soldiers, who were only obeying, but not for the Sanhedrin.”[5] According to Robertson, “them” does not include all of them, for, he suggests, only the Roman soldiers could be said to be acting in ignorance. “They know not what they do,” in other words, is hard to apply to the Jewish religious establishment for the Jews plotted their dastardly deed and presumably knew what they were doing.

However, against Robertson’s interpretation is the fact that ignorance is in fact ascribed to the Jews later in the New Testament. For instance, Peter, in Acts 3, said this:

¹⁷ “And now, brothers, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did also your rulers. ¹⁸ But what God foretold by the mouth of all the prophets, that his Christ would suffer, he thus fulfilled. ¹⁹ Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out, ²⁰ that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that he may send the Christ appointed for you, Jesus, ²¹ whom heaven must receive until the time for restoring all the things about which God spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets long ago.

Similarly, Paul preached this in Acts 13:

²⁶ “Brothers, sons of the family of Abraham, and those among you who fear God, to us has been sent the message of this salvation. ²⁷ For those who live in Jerusalem and their rulers, because they did not recognize him nor understand the utterances of the prophets, which are read every Sabbath, fulfilled them by condemning him. ²⁸ And though they found in him no guilt worthy of death, they asked Pilate to have him executed.

This would suggest that Jesus’ “for they know not what to do” was understood by the apostles to apply likewise to the Jews who handed Jesus over to the Romans. To be sure, this ignorance does not remove culpability, for Peter still calls upon the Jews to repent in Acts 3:19, and so must we. We must repent and receive the forgiveness of God in Christ, but the crucial point is that Christ called for forgiveness for those who committed this crime…that is, for us, for it was our sins for which He died, and it was our sin He became on the cross that warranted Him the judgment of God in our place.

Christ cries out to the utterly holy Father and Christ points Him to utterly sinful humanity. And this should cause us to tremble, for we know that God will not dwell in peace with a rebellious humanity that is intent on mocking Him.

It should cause us to tremble…but then we see the second word of the first word from the cross: forgive.

forgive: the merciful Savior who enables forgiveness

Here we see the amazing beauty of the gospel: “Father forgive them…” The 16^th century reformer Miles Coverdale said of these words:

The last words which Jesus spoke on the cross should be written by all faithful believers in their hearts, and they should diligently keep them there…O, the wonderful and great lenience of our Lord Jesus Christ!…Who will despair of God’s mercy, even if they are now in sin, when the great offenders who crucified and killed the giver of all remission found such great grace and goodness.[6]

In the 4^th/5^th century, Augustine wrote this of these words:

He prayed as man, and as God with the Father, he heard the prayer…They were raging, but he was praying. They were saying to Pilate “Crucify,” be he was crying out, “Father, forgive.” He was hanging from the cruel nails, but he did not lose his gentleness.[7]

Yes, “the wonderful and great lenience of our Lord,” as Coverdale said, and “his gentleness,” as Augustine said. We see these displayed in beautiful glory in this first word from the cross: “Father forgive them.”

Jesus could have said, “Father destroy them…Father annihilate them…Father judge them…Father avenge Me!” But he did not. No, “Father forgive them.”

The cross therefore becomes the place where the reality of human sinfulness is shown most clearly but it is also the place where the grace and mercy of God is shown most beautifully.

A wonderful depiction of this twin reality can be seen in Rembrandt’s 1633 painting, “The Raising of the Cross,” that he completed for Prince Frederick Henry of Orange.

The Raising of the Cross
*oil on canvas
*95.7 x 72.2 cm
*ca. 1633

In many ways it looks like just one of any number of crucifixion paintings, and one of the better ones. It is powerful and evokes the somber reality of the cross. However, there is something interesting in this painting, something that, in terms of raw history, does not fit the chronology. If you look at the center of the painting you will see a small Dutchman wearing a blue hat. He is not wearing clothing from the time. He is wearing clothing from the time of Rembrandt.

He is doing so because the man in the painting is Rembrandt.

He painted himself in this scene of the raising of the cross.

Why? Because Rembrandt knew that it was his sin that put Jesus on the cross. Thus, it was Rembrandt who helped to raise the cross. But he also put himself in the painting for another reason. He put himself in the painting because he knew that Christ died for him and that back there on Calvary Jesus was thinking of Rembrandt and all of us. So the inclusion of a self-portrait was a statement on human sinfulness but also a statement on divine grace.

Dear Church, dear friends and guests, Christ died for us. What unexpected and unbelievable good news this is! What a beautiful gospel we have presented to us here in this first word from the cross.

Christ has purchased forgiveness and life for us all and He has offered it to us all. It was not cheaply purchased but it is freely offered. If you will humble yourself before the crucified and risen Christ and receive this gift into a repentant heart, you will be saved. You will live.

Behold the glory of the crucified Christ! “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do!”

[1] Stanley Hauerwas, Cross-Shattered Christ. (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2004), p.31-33.

[2] Clinton E. Arnold, gen.ed., Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary. Vol. 1 (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2002), p.492.

[3] Jerry Bridges, The Pursuit of Holiness (Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress, 2003), 19.

[4] R.C. Sproul, Holiness (Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., 1998), p.41.

[5] A.T. Robertson, Word Pictures in the New Testament. Vol. II (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1930), p.285.

[6] Beth Kreitzer, Luke. Reformation Commentary on Scripture. New Testament III (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2015), p.464-465.

[7] Arthur A. Just, Jr., ed., Luke. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. New Testament III (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2003), p.361.

Exodus 21

¹² “Whoever strikes a man so that he dies shall be put to death. ¹³ But if he did not lie in wait for him, but God let him fall into his hand, then I will appoint for you a place to which he may flee. ¹⁴ But if a man willfully attacks another to kill him by cunning, you shall take him from my altar, that he may die. ¹⁵ “Whoever strikes his father or his mother shall be put to death. ¹⁶ “Whoever steals a man and sells him, and anyone found in possession of him, shall be put to death. ¹⁷ “Whoever curses his father or his mother shall be put to death. ¹⁸ “When men quarrel and one strikes the other with a stone or with his fist and the man does not die but takes to his bed, ¹⁹ then if the man rises again and walks outdoors with his staff, he who struck him shall be clear; only he shall pay for the loss of his time, and shall have him thoroughly healed. ²⁰ “When a man strikes his slave, male or female, with a rod and the slave dies under his hand, he shall be avenged. ²¹ But if the slave survives a day or two, he is not to be avenged, for the slave is his money. ²² “When men strive together and hit a pregnant woman, so that her children come out, but there is no harm, the one who hit her shall surely be fined, as the woman’s husband shall impose on him, and he shall pay as the judges determine. ²³ But if there is harm, then you shall pay life for life, ²⁴ eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, ²⁵ burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe. ²⁶ “When a man strikes the eye of his slave, male or female, and destroys it, he shall let the slave go free because of his eye. ²⁷ If he knocks out the tooth of his slave, male or female, he shall let the slave go free because of his tooth. ²⁸ “When an ox gores a man or a woman to death, the ox shall be stoned, and its flesh shall not be eaten, but the owner of the ox shall not be liable. ²⁹ But if the ox has been accustomed to gore in the past, and its owner has been warned but has not kept it in, and it kills a man or a woman, the ox shall be stoned, and its owner also shall be put to death. ³⁰ If a ransom is imposed on him, then he shall give for the redemption of his life whatever is imposed on him. ³¹ If it gores a man’s son or daughter, he shall be dealt with according to this same rule. ³² If the ox gores a slave, male or female, the owner shall give to their master thirty shekels of silver, and the ox shall be stoned. ³³ “When a man opens a pit, or when a man digs a pit and does not cover it, and an ox or a donkey falls into it, ³⁴ the owner of the pit shall make restoration. He shall give money to its owner, and the dead beast shall be his. ³⁵ “When one man’s ox butts another’s, so that it dies, then they shall sell the live ox and share its price, and the dead beast also they shall share. ³⁶ Or if it is known that the ox has been accustomed to gore in the past, and its owner has not kept it in, he shall repay ox for ox, and the dead beast shall be his.

On October 23, 1963, Bob Dylan recorded a song that some consider the greatest protest song ever written. It is entitled, “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll.” It is about the death of a fifty-one year old African American barmaid at the hands of a white man named William Zantzinger and the injustice of his light sentence. The details of the song have been disputed, as any search online will show, but the song itself stands as a fascinating and well-done exposė on the nature of injustice.

William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll

With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger

At a Baltimore hotel society gath’rin’

And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him

As they rode him in custody down to the station

And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder

But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears

Take the rag away from your face

Now ain’t the time for your tears

William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years

Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres

With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him

And high office relations in the politics of Maryland

Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders

And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling

In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking

But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears

Take the rag away from your face

Now ain’t the time for your tears

Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen

She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children

Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage

And never sat once at the head of the table

And didn’t even talk to the people at the table

Who just cleaned up all the food from the table

And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level

Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane

That sailed through the air and came down through the room

Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle

And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger

But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears

Take the rag away from your face

Now ain’t the time for your tears

In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel

To show that all’s equal and that the courts are on the level

And that the strings in the books ain’t pulled and persuaded

And that even the nobles get properly handled

Once that the cops have chased after and caught ’em

And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom

Stared at the person who killed for no reason

Who just happened to be feelin’ that way without warnin’

And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished

And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance

William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence

Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears

Bury the rag deep in your face

For now’s the time for your tears

The power of the song lies in its contrast between the crime committed and the insufficient punishment for the crime. The song (again, whether accurate or not) suggests that the wealthy and powerful can take life without having to really pay a proportionate price for it. Furthermore, it taps into racial and class injustice: a wealthy white man essentially gets away with killing a poor black woman.

At the end of the day, human beings recognize that what makes a just society just is that the laws are equitable and fair and are upheld with a sense of consistency for the common good. Our text shows that this was a concern for ancient Israel as well. In these verses, the Lord prescribes punishments for certain crimes. Philip Ryken proposes that the verses can be broken down into three sections reflecting three different types of crimes.

Section 1: capital crimes (v.12-17)

Section 2: personal injuries (v.18-27)

Section 3: criminal negligence (v.28-36)[1]

That is helpful. These verses contain numerous references to numerous crimes and their respective prescribed punishments. For our purposes, let us consider two crucial details that emerge and that can help us understand the nature of justice in Israel and the nature of justice in our day as well.

Equitable and just law prescribes punishments that are proportionate to the crimes committed and that restrain the vengeful impulse of man.

Our text has numerous case studies of crimes and proportionate punishments, but at the heart of it is a basic principle of foundational justice. In verses 23 through 25 we see the idea of what would come to be known as lex talionis.

²³ But if there is harm, then you shall pay life for life, ²⁴ eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, ²⁵ burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.

As we will see, Jesus would in time bring further light to this, but it should be noted that this basic principle of justice had the benefit of (a) deterring crime, (b) restraining the one wronged from a disproportionate response, and (c) restraining the state from a disproportionate response. It also exalted a high view of life and demonstrated that the taking of life was a heinous crime indeed. St. Augustine commented on these verses by arguing for their value, even though he argued that there was a higher way than even this.

Not to exceed due measure in inflicting punishment, lest the requital be greater than the injury…And it is a high degree of justice, for it would not be easy to find a man who, on receiving a fisticuff, would be content to give only one in return and who, on hearing one word from a reviler, would be content to return one word exactly equivalent. On the contrary, either he exceeds moderation because he is angry, or he thinks that, with regard to one who has inflicted an injury on another, justice demands a penalty greater than the injury suffered by the innocent person. To a great extent, such a spirit is restrained by the law, in which is written the directive, “An eye for an eye” and “A tooth for a tooth.” Moderation is signified by these words, so that the penalty may not be greater than the injury. And this is the beginning of peace. But to have absolutely no with for any such retribution – that is perfect peace.[2]

There is indeed moderation in these verses, and a helpful restraint to the more vengeful impulses of man and the state. These vengeful impulses and the danger of failing to restrain them can be seen in the memorable conversation between the characters Jim Malone and Elliot Ness in the 1987 film, “The Untouchables.”

Malone: You said you wanted to know how to get Capone. [Ness nods] Do you really want to get him? [pause] You see what I’m saying? What are you prepared to do?

Ness: Everything within the law.

Malone: And then what are you prepared to do? If you open the ball on these people, Mr. Ness, you must be prepared to go all the way. Because they won’t give up the fight until one of you is dead.

Ness: I want to get Capone. I don’t know how to get him.

Malone: You want to get Capone? Here’s how you get him. He pulls a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue! That’s the Chicago way, and that’s how you get Capone! Now, do you want to do that? Are you ready to do that? I’m making you a deal. Do you want this deal?

Ness: I have sworn to put this man away with any and all legal means at my disposal, and I will do so.

Malone: Well, the Lord hates a coward. Do you know what a blood oath is, Mr. Ness?

Ness: Yes.

Malone: Good, ’cause you just took one.[3]

That is what happens when restraining parameters are removed. Knives are met with guns and morgues are the response to hospitals. In other words, violence and rage increases with each wrong inflicted and suffered and the world is reduced to a madhouse.

Here is the genius of this basic law code: they deterred and appropriately restrained. They recognized that it is possible to respond, even to a great wrong, wrongly. These laws were provided to protect good people from wicked people and then good people from themselves, for all of us are capable of great harm in the name of vengeance.

Christ Jesus, however, pushes us past mere justice and into grace.

When Jesus came among us, He spoke of these words in the sermon on the mount. In so doing, he pushed us past justice and into grace. We find His words in Matthew 5.

³⁸ “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ ³⁹ But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. ⁴⁰ And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. ⁴¹ And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. ⁴² Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you.

To be sure, there is still great evil in the world and the state still must use force against individuals and other states that threaten human life, but Jesus is offering a better way, a way that should be adopted by His people, the Church, and that should increasingly infiltrate fallen society through the life and witness of the Church. Cyril of Alexandria suggested that the Old Testament law was a schoolmaster for Israel that prepared them bit by bit for the coming of the higher and highest law preached and demonstrated by Christ.

[T]he general bearing of the legal mode of life was by no means pleasing to God. It was even given to those of old time as a schoolmaster, accustoming them little by little to a fitting righteousness and leading them on gently toward the possession of the perfect good. For it is written, “To do what is just is the beginning of the good way”; but finally all perfection is in Christ and his precepts. “For to him that strikes you on the cheek,” he says, “offer also the other.”[4]

“The perfect good,” Cyril called this. He was correct. For the people of God, there is a concern that trumps both vengeance and justice: eternal life. The children of God are not primarily seeking to have those who wrong us imprisoned, we are seeking ultimately to have them redeemed. This is the call of Christ to turn the other cheek, to give to those who take you to court, to go the extra mile is a call to a Kingdom-focused and Kingdom-driven life of subversion whereby the assumptions and exercise of mere justice are infused with the sweet aroma of grace.

By not being consumed with a desire for recompense, we may just open a door where grace can enter in. By not seeing justice as the highest goal, we allow the higher goal of salvation to be seen through the moral fog of our times.

In truth, the most disarming act we can take is the act of refusing to take up arms, and the greatest vengeance is to see the devil frustrated by our refusal to enact revenge.

I once heard the late Calvin Miller tell of visiting a difficult man in the community where he pastored. The man was notorious for his wild living, his rough behavior, and his general wickedness. He lived in a small Nebraska home with his wife and sons. Dr. Miller said that he visited the man and began to present the gospel to him. The man angrily refused to listen. When Dr. Miller asked him if he did not feel some responsibility to raise his children in the Lord, the man snapped and punched him in the face. Dr. Miller recounted that he woke up, staring at the man’s ceiling and feeling the blood from his nose and mouth seep into his beard. He then recounted how he stood up and quietly left the house without reacting or responding. The next Sunday, the man was sitting on the front pew. He would go on to accept Christ, join the church, and become a faithful and great leader in the church and friend to Dr. Miller.

I sometimes wonder what the reaction would have been had Dr. Miller responded with anger or outrage. What would have happened if he would have filed a police report for assault? I am not sure, but I rather suspect it would not have ended with the man coming to Christ and becoming valuable in the Kingdom.

That is but one of many examples of those who have refused to respond to evil with evil, and it is but one of many examples of God moving mightily through the refusal of his people to demand justice and retribution.

Does society need justice? Yes. It does. In a fallen world we need just laws and proportionate responses. But Christ brings grace to the table. Society needs that two. And the individuals who make up society need that. You need that. I need that. The whole world needs grace. And the grace that Jesus offers is enough for the whole world. He has opened wide His arms on the cross to welcome home all who will come.

Our eternal hope rests in the fact that Jesus met the demands of justice so that you and I can receive the sweet gift of divine grace and mercy and forgiveness. To receive these gifts, all we need do is come to Jesus in repentance and faith and be saved.

[1] Philip Graham Ryken, Exodus. (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2005), p.710.

[2] Joseph T. Lienhard, ed., Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. Old Testament, Vol.III (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2001), p.113.

[3] https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/The_Untouchables

[4] Joseph T. Lienhard, ed., p.113.

Matthew 27

²⁷ Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole battalion before him. ²⁸ And they stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, ²⁹ and twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on his head and put a reed in his right hand. And kneeling before him, they mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” ³⁰ And they spit on him and took the reed and struck him on the head. ³¹ And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him and led him away to crucify him. ³² As they went out, they found a man of Cyrene, Simon by name. They compelled this man to carry his cross. ³³ And when they came to a place called Golgotha (which means Place of a Skull), ³⁴ they offered him wine to drink, mixed with gall, but when he tasted it, he would not drink it. ³⁵ And when they had crucified him, they divided his garments among them by casting lots. ³⁶ Then they sat down and kept watch over him there. ³⁷ And over his head they put the charge against him, which read, “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.” ³⁸ Then two robbers were crucified with him, one on the right and one on the left. ³⁹ And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads ⁴⁰ and saying, “You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” ⁴¹ So also the chief priests, with the scribes and elders, mocked him, saying, ⁴² “He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. ⁴³ He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he desires him. For he said, ‘I am the Son of God.’” ⁴⁴ And the robbers who were crucified with him also reviled him in the same way.

N.T. Wright has shared an intriguing story about a spelunking friend of his.

            A friend of mine was leading a party of explorers through underground caverns and tunnels. They had trained for this expedition and knew the way. Not all the caves had been explored before, and my friend was convinced that there was a way right through, bringing them out by a different route after some miles underground. It would involve them at one point going down under water inside the cave, in order to come up the other side in a continuing tunnel. Nobody had even attempted to go this way before.

            But when they got to the crucial point in the cave, some of the party lost their nerve. It was a stupid idea, they said. There were no maps, no charts to indicate that there was a way through. They might go down into the water and simply drown while trying to find the way forward. Some got angry with the leader. What right had he got, they said, to push them into doing something crazy just because he had the dream of finding a new way? Eventually he realized there was only one thing to do. He would have to go through himself and find the way, and then come back to take them with him.

            As he went down into the water, some of the group stood there nervously silent, but the ones who had objected laughed at him. So much for your great dreams, they said. Either you’ll come back soaked and defeated or you won’t come back at all. That’s what happens to people who think they know too much and discover too late that they don’t.

            Of course – I wouldn’t be telling the story otherwise! – he did find the way through, and eventually they all followed, including the grumblers. But the point of the story…is to show what it was like as Jesus pioneered the way through death and out the other side into the new life that he knew was there but which nobody else understood.[1]

That is a great illustration of what Christ has done for us on the cross: He has swum into the murky deep of death and returned to tell us there is a way…and the way is the way of the cross and empty tomb in which death was defeated by Christ. And, like Wright’s friend, Jesus was mocked and laughed at during His journey through death and out the other side. The men who put Jesus on the cross mocked Him as He died. In so doing they revealed their ignorance concerning what was actually happening on Calvary. Some years back there was a CBS miniseries on Jesus. There is a scene in it in which the devil confronts Jesus in Gethsemane. The devil says this to Jesus: “They do not understand your cross, Jesus. They will never understand your cross.”[2] That is true. That has always been true.

The mocking crowd revealed their own spiritual blindness and ignorance. Before we consider Jesus’ seven last words from the cross, let us consider the three ignorant words directed towards the cross.

A word of mockery that revealed their ignorance concerning Jesus.

The first word of mockery directed toward the cross revealed a fundamental ignorance on the part of those killing Jesus concerning who He was and is. It is a verbal word and also an enacted word of violence, and it is spoken by the Roman soldiers.

²⁷ Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole battalion before him. ²⁸ And they stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, ²⁹ and twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on his head and put a reed in his right hand. And kneeling before him, they mocked him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” ³⁰ And they spit on him and took the reed and struck him on the head. ³¹ And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him and led him away to crucify him.

The tragic irony of this first word of mockery is nearly staggering in its blind audacity. “Hail, King of the Jews!” they shout, as they dress Him as a mock king, crown Him with thorns, and then strike Him with the reed they offered Him as a mock scepter.

It needs to be noted that this mock coronation was not limited only to Jesus. Michael Wilkins notes that Roman soldiers sometimes played a cruel game with prisoners called “the king’s game” in which “the prisoner was dressed up like a burlesque king and used as a game piece” in which he was “moved around a game board etched in the floor…for the entertainment of the troops as they hurled verbal and physical abuse at the mock king.”[3]

There can be no doubt that the association of kingship with the trial of Jesus brought a certain heightened degree of disdain to this playing of “the king’s game,” but it was nonetheless still the normal process of mocking and breaking the spirit of common criminals condemned to die in that brutal culture.

The spiritual blindness of the guards is highlighted by the fact that Jesus was and is in fact King and Lord of heaven and earth! If ever the ignominy and shame of mankind was captured in a microcosm, this is it! They mock the one who created them. They spit upon the one who made the oceans. They crown with thorns the one who crowned the heavens with glory. They clothe in a mocking robe the one who clothes the earth with the morning dew, the mountaintops with snow, prairies with grass. They kneel disdainfully before the one before whom every knee on heaven and earth will one day kneel.

They see this mocking as a delusional fool’s defeat without realizing that it is actually the King of Kings greatest victory, for it is here on the cross and in the Easter morning tomb that Christ will ultimately defeat sin, death, and hell.

A.T. Robertson, speaking of the crown of thorns, wrote that the crown “was more like a victor’s garland (stephanon) than a royal diadem (diadema), but it served the purpose.”[4] That is most fitting, for Christ is indeed the victor.

A word of mockery that revealed their ignorance of the Father.

The crowd next offers a mocking word that reveals their ignorance of the Father.

³² As they went out, they found a man of Cyrene, Simon by name. They compelled this man to carry his cross. ³³ And when they came to a place called Golgotha (which means Place of a Skull), ³⁴ they offered him wine to drink, mixed with gall, but when he tasted it, he would not drink it. ³⁵ And when they had crucified him, they divided his garments among them by casting lots. ³⁶ Then they sat down and kept watch over him there. ³⁷ And over his head they put the charge against him, which read, “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.” ³⁸ Then two robbers were crucified with him, one on the right and one on the left. ³⁹ And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads ⁴⁰ and saying, “You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.”

Michael Card has offered a rather fascinating proposal concerning the wine mixed with gall.

            In verse 34, Jesus is offered a drink of wine mixed with what is usually referred to as myrrh. Besides being a perfume, myrrh is also a narcotic. The majority view on this passage is that it represents a custom whereby the righteous women of Jerusalem, in an act of compassion, provided the mixture to ease the pain of condemned criminals. But the Aramaic words for “myrrh” and “gall” are virtually identical. In Psalm 69:21, which prophetically portrays the scene, the word gall is used. Matthew uses gall as well.

            It is important to realize that gall is not the same thing as myrrh. Gall, in fact, is poison. There is at least a chance that this offer of a drink was Satan’s last attempt to kill Jesus before the cross. After all, he had tried to kill Jesus as an infant (Mt 2:16). He had tried to convince Jesus to jump off the roof of the temple (Mt 4:6). He had tried to drown Jesus in the storm (Mt 8:24). He had tried to have Jesus stoned by the crowd (Jn 11:8). Is it too much to believe that a drink, perhaps with poison gall, was Satan’s last attempt to kill Jesus before he made it to the cross? The fact that Jesus spits the drink out after he tastes it might be an indication that he realized it was poisonous.[5]

That is a provocative idea, and while it cannot be said with certainty that this is what is happening here, there is nothing objectionable in the idea. After all, Satan had indeed attempted to kill the Lord Jesus before, and he indeed would have liked for Jesus not to have died upon a cross. Regardless, Jesus refuses to drink the gall.

The most telling words are found in verses 39 and 40.

³⁹ And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads ⁴⁰ and saying, “You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.”

A.T. Robertson points out that the wording of verse 40, “If you are the Son of God,” is a mimic of Satan’s temptation of Jesus in Matthew 4:3.[6] To be sure, there is a diabolical hand behind the taunt. Perhaps more than anything, however, there is an ignorance of the true nature of God in these words.

We must remember that the common religious idea advocated by at least some of the religious teachers was an idea saturated in works righteousness and a concept of something like what we would call “karma.” Basically it went like this: if you are good then God will be happy with you and bad things will not happen to you. If you are bad then God will be unhappy with you and bad things will not happen to you. Conversely, if bad things happen to you, it is most likely the case that you sinned somehow and did something to deserve it.

There is an entire book of the Bible that seeks to show the folly of this kind of overly simplistic theology. That book is called Job. This mentality can be seen lurking behind many of the words of Job’s friends. And it was present likewise in the staggering legalism of the Pharisees. We can see it today in certain strands of Christianity. It is a very dangerous idea, this idea that if you are suffering it is because you have somehow offended God and that if you are a good boy or girl nothing bad will happen to you.

Let me suggest that if that theological premise was true, then the logic undergirding their taunt was correct, for if, they would say, God actually had a son, then certainly He would not have allowed such a shameful occurrence as the cross to happen to him. Conversely, the fact that Jesus was on the cross was seen as irrefutable proof that He could not have been the Son of God.

“If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.”

Do you see the assumption? The assumption is that if He was indeed the Son of God (a) God would not want Him on the cross and (b) the cross would never have happened. Why? Because God would of course be pleased with any son He might have and would never allow such a thing to happen.

The logic is right if the premise is true, but the problem is the premise itself. The premise that God will not allow suffering if He is happy with you was precisely their theological problem, for there has never been one with whom the Lord God was more pleased than Jesus yet He sent Him precisely for the cross! What if it is exactly because God loves the Son and loves lost humanity that He calls upon the Son to do what only the Son can do? What if God’s glory and love is most evident in Christ’s fulfillment of the great and daunting work of the cross?

“If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.”

But it is precisely because He alone is the Son of God that He is on the cross, for only the Son could fulfill the Father’s just demands and righteous requirements! Only the Son is a fit mediator for God and man! Only the Son is able to suffer in our stead, to bleed in our place, and, in so doing, to secure the salvation of all who will trust in Him.

A word of mockery that revealed their ignorance of their own hearts.

Not to be outdone, the religious establishment offers the third word of mockery. This word is significant because it demonstrates their ignorance of their own hearts.

⁴¹ So also the chief priests, with the scribes and elders, mocked him, saying, ⁴² “He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. ⁴³ He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he desires him. For he said, ‘I am the Son of God.’” ⁴⁴ And the robbers who were crucified with him also reviled him in the same way.

There is something comically absurd about their statement, “Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him.” There is an obviously absurd element, then a more subtle one. The obviously absurd element is that when Jesus was not on the cross they most emphatically did not believe in Him. The more subtle absurdity is the assumption on their part that they are reasonable people who are capable of seeing and discerning and believing the truth of God.

In reality, the truth of God stood in their very midst, and crucifixion was their answer. The cross demonstrates once and for all just what fallen man does with the truth when God reveals it: fallen man hates it and seeks to eradicate it.

The arrogance of thinking that fallen people are predisposed to receive joyfully the truths of a holy God was also demonstrated in the jarring story of the rich man and Lazarus in Luke 16.

¹⁹ “There was a rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. ²⁰ And at his gate was laid a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, ²¹ who desired to be fed with what fell from the rich man’s table. Moreover, even the dogs came and licked his sores. ²² The poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried, ²³ and in Hades, being in torment, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side. ²⁴ And he called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in anguish in this flame.’ ²⁵ But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner bad things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in anguish. ²⁶ And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, in order that those who would pass from here to you may not be able, and none may cross from there to us.’ ²⁷ And he said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house— ²⁸ for I have five brothers—so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment.’ ²⁹ But Abraham said, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.’ ³⁰ And he said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ ³¹ He said to him, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.’”

You will perhaps note that the assumption of the taunting religious leaders was the same assumption of the tormented rich man in hell: if the truth is plainly revealed to people, they will accept it. But Abraham’s response is the absolute truth: “neither will they be convinced if someone rises from the dead.”

That was prophetic of course, especially when we remember that is was Jesus who told that parable. Jesus would indeed rise from the dead and most would still refuse to believe.

This third taunt reveals that man is not only ignorant about the true nature of Christ and the true nature of the Father, he is also ignorant of the depravity of his own heart, seeing in it a reasonable place, a place of spiritual harmony and discernment, when in fact it is anything but.

No, the heart of man is a wicked thing and the cross is its fruit. We try to kill the truth when we encounter it. The most precious truths are usually met with the most virulent evil. Usually…but not always. For there always seems to be some whose hearts are broken by the Spirit of God and who are able to see and embrace the truth. Jesus spoke of these as those on the narrow way to eternal life whereas the masses populate the broad way to destruction (Matthew 7:13-14).

Here is the truth of the matter, and it is a truth we need to understand: most reject, but the offer of life has been made to you and is being made to you now. Will you stand with the mocking crowd or will you be part of the few that stand with the crucified and risen Lamb? It is a critically important question. In truth, it is the only question that really matters.

The Roman soldiers, the crowd passing by, the religious authorities: they mocked and in their mocking they revealed not only their own distance from God but the distance of all of humanity from God. And yet, it is Jesus that they mock…and Jesus reveals the closeness of God to man, the reality of God’s loving offer of grace and invitation to new life.

Most will stand with the mocking crowd, but you need not do so. You can come to Jesus. If you do so, He will not turn you away. For the point of the cross is that He loves us that much…and His love is an open door.

[1] Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone. Part Two (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2004) p.184-185.

[2] Shane Clairborne, The Irresistible Revolution (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2006), p.250, fn.3.

[3] Clinton E. Arnold, gen. ed., Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary. Vol. 1 (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2002), p.176-177.

[4] A.T. Robertson, Word Pictures in the New Testament. Vol. I (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1930), p.230.

[5] Michael Card, Matthew. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2013), p.242.

[6] A.T. Robertson, p.232.

Exodus 21

¹ “Now these are the rules that you shall set before them. ² When you buy a Hebrew slave, he shall serve six years, and in the seventh he shall go out free, for nothing. ³ If he comes in single, he shall go out single; if he comes in married, then his wife shall go out with him. ⁴ If his master gives him a wife and she bears him sons or daughters, the wife and her children shall be her master’s, and he shall go out alone. ⁵ But if the slave plainly says, ‘I love my master, my wife, and my children; I will not go out free,’ ⁶ then his master shall bring him to God, and he shall bring him to the door or the doorpost. And his master shall bore his ear through with an awl, and he shall be his slave forever. ⁷ “When a man sells his daughter as a slave, she shall not go out as the male slaves do. ⁸ If she does not please her master, who has designated her for himself, then he shall let her be redeemed. He shall have no right to sell her to a foreign people, since he has broken faith with her. ⁹ If he designates her for his son, he shall deal with her as with a daughter. ¹⁰ If he takes another wife to himself, he shall not diminish her food, her clothing, or her marital rights. ¹¹ And if he does not do these three things for her, she shall go out for nothing, without payment of money.

One of the interesting things about preaching through whole books of the Bible is that you cannot skip the hard parts. And that is a good thing. If we believe the Bible to be God’s Word and believe that all of it is profitable, that means we must be willing to wrestle with the parts we find difficult. Let us remember that while there are timeless principles in all of scripture, there are indeed parts that are culturally conditioned to the day in which it was written. In these parts, we do not simply lift, move to our day, and literally apply a given text because the cultural structures in which these kinds of texts made sense do not apply today. So what we do in these cases is make a distinction between the element that was literally applicable to that given culture and the element that is timeless and applies across all generations and locales.

For instance, our text delineates rules concerning the institution of slavery. Obviously, we do not have slaves today and we would join with Christians the world over in seeing such an institution as unbecoming of the children of God. In truth, we would see it as a violation of the image of God in man. But here, and even at points in the New Testament, we find references to slavery that are not condemning the institution outright like we would like. So what are we to make of such texts? First, let us hear the passage:

¹ “Now these are the rules that you shall set before them. ² When you buy a Hebrew slave, he shall serve six years, and in the seventh he shall go out free, for nothing. ³ If he comes in single, he shall go out single; if he comes in married, then his wife shall go out with him. ⁴ If his master gives him a wife and she bears him sons or daughters, the wife and her children shall be her master’s, and he shall go out alone. ⁵ But if the slave plainly says, ‘I love my master, my wife, and my children; I will not go out free,’ ⁶ then his master shall bring him to God, and he shall bring him to the door or the doorpost. And his master shall bore his ear through with an awl, and he shall be his slave forever. ⁷ “When a man sells his daughter as a slave, she shall not go out as the male slaves do. ⁸ If she does not please her master, who has designated her for himself, then he shall let her be redeemed. He shall have no right to sell her to a foreign people, since he has broken faith with her. ⁹ If he designates her for his son, he shall deal with her as with a daughter. ¹⁰ If he takes another wife to himself, he shall not diminish her food, her clothing, or her marital rights. ¹¹ And if he does not do these three things for her, she shall go out for nothing, without payment of money.

Our text is drawing a distinction between the handling of male slaves and the handling of female slaves, or, as many suggest, the handling of concubines. Let us consider what this means.

It seems clear that, for whatever reason, the Lord regulated certain undesirable realities in the Old Testament in light of the hardness of the Israelite’s hearts without advocating those realities He regulated.

I would like to begin by pointing out that, regardless of how one understands this, it seems clear that the Lord sometimes regulated certain undesirable realities in the Old Testament in light of the hardness of the Israelite’s hearts without advocating the realities He regulated. What do this mean? It means that the Lord allowed certain things to happen, and put guidelines around these things, that were neither ideal nor good but were part of the culture of the day.

This is difficult to understand, and we must be careful with such an idea, but I will note that Jesus appear to acknowledge this phenomenon in Matthew 19.

³ And Pharisees came up to him and tested him by asking, “Is it lawful to divorce one’s wife for any cause?” ⁴ He answered, “Have you not read that he who created them from the beginning made them male and female, ⁵ and said, ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh’? ⁶ So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate.” ⁷ They said to him, “Why then did Moses command one to give a certificate of divorce and to send her away?” ⁸ He said to them, “Because of your hardness of heart Moses allowed you to divorce your wives, but from the beginning it was not so. ⁹ And I say to you: whoever divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another, commits adultery.”

Again, the implications of this need to be thought through, but the point seems to be firmly established: it seems clear that, for whatever reason, the Lord regulated certain undesirable realities in the Old Testament in light of the hardness of the Israelite’s hearts without advocating those realities He regulated.

While the Old Testament does not offer a denunciation of slavery, it is quite possible that it is discouraging it even in the regulations it offers for it.

What is more, the presence of regulations do not necessarily equate to approval of that which is being regulated if, in fact, the structure of the regulations build in an element of shame for those who indulge in such. This is a bit of a nuance on the first point, and it is an intriguing argument. Old Testament scholar Victor Hamilton has made this argument and it is worthy of consideration.

Before turning to Exod. 21: 1– 11, let me state my own position. I reject the view that the Bible gives its imprimatur to slavery and looks the other way when ethical concerns raise their heads. Nor do I accept the view that the Bible endorses but tries to modify and ameliorate the practice of slavery. There are other things that the pagan nations did and the OT absolutely prohibits, like having idols, or cutting oneself, or eating pork, or working on Saturdays. The OT never tries to modify them. It exorcises them.

I believe the OT attempts, through its slave laws, to dissuade Israelites from the practice of slavery. I say this for two reasons. First, the most interesting slave law of all in the Bible is Deut. 23:15–16: “If a slave has taken refuge with you, do not hand him over to his master. Let him live among you wherever he likes and in whatever town he chooses” (and possibly the OT background to Paul’s Letter to Philemon). That is to say, a slave can choose not to be a slave. To gain his freedom, he need not wait those six years. He can simply and legally run away, without consequence to either the fugitive or to the one who is harboring him. Here is one major difference between the codes. In the Laws of Eshnunna (laws 12– 13) is a stiff fine for harboring a runaway slave, and Hammurabi’s Code (numbers 15– 16) makes it a capital offense. As Clines (1995a: 78, 81) has pointed out, “If a slave can choose not to be a slave, the concept of slavery does not exist as it once was thought to exist. . . . Slavery is in a sense abolished when it ceases to be a state that a person is forced into against their will.”

Here is the second reason why I believe the OT tries to dissuade the practice of slavery (and I reference here to Sternberg [1998: 483– 93] as the source of some of my thoughts). Exodus 21: 2 begins with “When you buy [qānâ] a Hebrew slave [ʿebedʿibrî ]. . . .” These expressions appear in Genesis in conjunction with Joseph’s slavery in Egypt. His brothers sell (mākar) him to some caravaners heading to Egypt (Gen. 37: 28). Potiphar buys [qānâ] him from them (Gen. 39: 1), and Potiphar’s wife sneeringly refers to Joseph as “that Hebrew slave” (hāʿebed hāʿibrî) in Gen. 39: 17. If Exod. 21: 2 would say, “When you acquire/ buy an Israelite slave,” the parallel of the Exodus slave law with Joseph would be nonexistent. As it now stands, the slave law of Exod. 21 appears to hold out Potiphar and Mrs. Potiphar as the model of somebody who has “bought” a “Hebrew slave,” resulting in all the tragic misfortunes that befall this Hebrew slave (years of imprisonment, character assassination, to name a few). As Sternberg (1998: 486) says, “The tacit Josephic precedent triggers its own, story-length prolepsis in the Mosaic audience’s mind, with a view to deterring them from reenacting this follow-up in the world.”

Another parallel with Genesis language is this. One may assume that a major reason why a person would voluntarily become a slave, or sell one’s daughter into slavery, is because of staggering debt and poverty from which one cannot extricate oneself. The Egyptian people, because of their famine-ravaged land, say to Joseph, now their Egyptian prime minister, “Buy [qānâ] us.” So Joseph “bought [qānâ] all the land of Egypt. . . . I have bought [qanah] you and your land” (Gen. 47: 19, 20, 23), in return for which the people promised (Gen. 47: 25) to be “slaves” (ʿăbādîm) to Pharaoh (NIV, “in bondage to Pharaoh”). Joseph, the one “bought,” has become Joseph the “buyer.” Joseph, once the ʿebed, “slave,” has become the ʾādôn, “master.” The enslaved has become the enslaver.

The Israelites now are only about three months out of Egypt. On three earlier occasions during those three months, slavery back in Egypt is their preferred option (Exod. 14: 10– 12; 16: 2– 3; 17: 1– 3), and here is the Lord speaking to his people about enslaving a Hebrew brother. In its own way Exod. 21: 5’ s “I love my master” is a later form of an earlier “I love my Egypt (and all the security and comforts it provides).” In a review of Sternberg’s book, Cohn (2001: 740) catches the drift of the argument: “The texts aim to stigmatize an Israelite who would enslave another by coding him in the role of a Hamite [Egyptian] master, as well as tarring an Israelite who would choose servitude over liberty by coding him as a throwback to Egyptian slavery.”[1]

Thus, the surprising allowances for the liberation of escaped slaves as well as the evocation of very recent memories of the Jews’ own enslavement in Egypt introduces an element of shame into the very institution. It is a subtle point, and perhaps one that we wish would be much more explicit, but it does hold relative significance.

Ultimately, the gospel of Christ would lay the foundation for abolitionism.

For followers of Christ, of course, all that God commands finds its ultimate fulfillment in Jesus Christ. It is profoundly important to notice that the gospel Christ preached did in fact lay the foundation for the eventual abolition of the slave trade. To be sure, it is historically disingenuous to suggest that the Church did not traffic in the slave trade in ways that are truly shameful. Large numbers of Christians did do so, and it is a tragedy of the first order. Even so, we find within the gospel the seeds that eventually grew into the undermining of slavery. Those seeds are sown in the life and teachings and saving work of Christ and begin to bear fruit even in the apostolic age. Thus, Paul could proclaim in Galatians 3:28:

²⁷ For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. ²⁸ There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. ²⁹ And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to promise.

That is a radical pronouncement: “there is neither slave nor free…for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Here we begin to see the theological ammunition that would be used to undermine the very foundations of slavery. Even and especially in Philemon, a book in which Paul is returning a run away slave to his Christian master, we find principles that, if followed in the ancient world, would have utterly revolutionized and ultimately destroyed slavery as an social institution. Consider Philemon 10-22 and the ways in which Paul strikes at the very notion of slavery.

¹⁰ I appeal to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I became in my imprisonment. ¹¹ (Formerly he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful to you and to me.) ¹² I am sending him back to you, sending my very heart. ¹³ I would have been glad to keep him with me, in order that he might serve me on your behalf during my imprisonment for the gospel, ¹⁴ but I preferred to do nothing without your consent in order that your goodness might not be by compulsion but of your own accord. ¹⁵ For this perhaps is why he was parted from you for a while, that you might have him back forever, ¹⁶ no longer as a bondservant but more than a bondservant, as a beloved brother—especially to me, but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord. ¹⁷ So if you consider me your partner, receive him as you would receive me. ¹⁸ If he has wronged you at all, or owes you anything, charge that to my account. ¹⁹ I, Paul, write this with my own hand: I will repay it—to say nothing of your owing me even your own self. ²⁰ Yes, brother, I want some benefit from you in the Lord. Refresh my heart in Christ. ²¹ Confident of your obedience, I write to you, knowing that you will do even more than I say. ²² At the same time, prepare a guest room for me, for I am hoping that through your prayers I will be graciously given to you. [bold, mine]

Let us ask ourselves a simple question: if slave owners in the ancient world treated slaves as their brothers who were no longer slaves with whom they would spend eternity who were useful to them in the Lord, would it not have obliterated slavery in the ancient world? This is why we begin to see Christianity striking blows at the edifice of slavery in the ancient and, later, in the modern world.

In the fourth century, Gregory of Nyssa denounced the institution of slavery as wicked. David Bentley Hart points out that the entire ancient world does not contain a denunciation as fierce as Gregory’s.

Nowhere in the literary remains of antiquity is there another document quite comparable to Gregory of Nyssa’s fourth homily on the book of Ecclesiastes: certainly no other ancient text still known to us—Christian, Jewish, or Pagan—contains so fierce, unequivocal, and indignant a condemnation of the institution of slavery.[2]

In his book, The Path of Celtic Prayer, Calvin Miller pointed that, in the fifth century, St. Patrick of Ireland “was, for example, always speaking against the slave trade and unkind and cruel leaders (see his Letter to Coroticus).”[3]

In William Carey’s 1792 missionary manifesto, An Enquiry into the Obligations of Christians to Use Means for the Conversion of the Heathens, he remarked that “a noble effort has been made to abolish the inhuman Slave-Trade, and though at present it has not been so successful as might be wished, yet it is to be hoped it will be persevered in, till it is accomplished.”[4]

And of course we must not forget that noble follower of Jesus, William Wilberforce, who fought so valiantly to abolish the British slave trade.

As I said earlier, we rightly wish that these examples were much more numerous and intense, but it should be noted that the earliest voices and many of the most noble voices for the abolition of slavery were the voices of those who had bowed before the Lordship of Christ and embraced the truth of the gospel. That is no small thing.

What, then, of the regulations concerning slavery in Exodus? They are concessions, the reasons for which we cannot ultimately know, that were intended to establish guidelines around a social institution that was widely embraced in the ancient world, that certainly was not and is not part of God’s ideal for His people, but which was allowed for reasons that reside in the mysteries of God’s will. They spoke to an institution that was a regrettable part of the ancient world, and is, we note with sadness, still a regrettable part of too much of the world today, but an institution the foundations of which were eroded and then finally demolished by the liberating power of the gospel of Christ…for which we say, Amen!

The gospel of Christ sets free the slaves, then and now. As ever, the greatest slavery as the slavery of the fallen human heart. It is our slavery to our own passions and our own egos and our own fallen minds. And Christ Jesus comes to all of us slaves and throws open the door through the power of His life, death, and resurrection, and bids us emerge as free men and women.

[1] Hamilton, Victor P. (2011-11-01). Exodus: An Exegetical Commentary (Kindle Locations 12079-12116). Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

[2] D. Bentley Hart, “The `Whole Humanity’: Gregory of Nyssa’s Critique of Slavery in Light of His Eschatology,” Scottish Journal of Theology, 54:1 (February 2001): 51. See also “Gregory of Nyssa and the Culture of Oppression.” https://www.baylor.edu/content/services/document.php/110976.pdf

[3] Calvin Miller, The Path of Celtic Prayer: An Ancient Way to Everyday Joy (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2007), p.138.

[4] William Carey, An Enquiry into the Obligations of Christians to Use Means for the Conversion of the Heathens. Kindle Edition. (530-531)

On our mission trip to Long Island last week, Kendall Doles, the Minister of Music at Crossroads Church, mentioned that Andrew Peterson had released a new album.  I’m not sure how I missed that!  I downloaded it on the train and immediately started listening.  Check it out, as well as his other music.  Here’s one song from it:

Matthew 27

¹ When morning came, all the chief priests and the elders of the people took counsel against Jesus to put him to death. ² And they bound him and led him away and delivered him over to Pilate the governor.

¹¹ Now Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus said, “You have said so.” ¹² But when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he gave no answer. ¹³ Then Pilate said to him, “Do you not hear how many things they testify against you?” ¹⁴ But he gave him no answer, not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed.

²² Pilate said to them, “Then what shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” They all said, “Let him be crucified!” ²³ And he said, “Why, what evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Let him be crucified!” ²⁴ So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” ²⁵ And all the people answered, “His blood be on us and on our children!” ²⁶ Then he released for them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, delivered him to be crucified.

Two days from now the Greek Orthodox Church will be honoring a rather unlikely saint: Pontius Pilate’s wife. The scriptures do paint her in a rather favorable light, so it is not that difficult to see her as good woman. However, I must say it is indeed surprising to see the Ethiopian Church venerating Pilate’s wife and Pontius Pilate every June 19. While this is quite surprising to a lot of us, it apparently would not have been so to many in the early Church.

In Jerry Ryan’s Commonweal article, “Saint Pontius Pilate?” he notes that many in the early Church viewed Pilate in a favorable light.

Early Christianity went easy on Pilate…Tertullian invokes Pilate as a witness to the death and resurrection of Christ and of the truth of Christianity—and explains that this is why he is mentioned in the Nicean Creed. St. Augustine saw Pilate as a prophet of the Kingdom of God (cf. sermon 201). Hippolytus draws a parallel between Pilate and Daniel—in so far as both proclaim themselves absolved from the shedding of innocent blood (Daniel 14:40). Other Church Fathers likened Pilate to the Magi, who also recognized Jesus as King of the Jews.[1]

As somebody who tries to be a student of Christian history, and who believes that we should dismiss the wisdom of the early Christians only with great care and after firmly establishing their error, I must say that I simply disagree with this. The picture of Pilate that emerges from the pages of the New Testament is not one that inspires appreciation, much less veneration. On the contrary, the picture that emerges of Pilate is one of a selfish, self-serving, and cowardly politician who tried to have his cake and eat it too.

Pilate rejected Jesus in order to safeguard his own life and career.

To be perfectly blunt about it, Pilate was looking out for one person: Pilate! Here is what our text reveals about him.

¹ When morning came, all the chief priests and the elders of the people took counsel against Jesus to put him to death. ² And they bound him and led him away and delivered him over to Pilate the governor.

¹¹ Now Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus said, “You have said so.” ¹² But when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he gave no answer. ¹³ Then Pilate said to him, “Do you not hear how many things they testify against you?” ¹⁴ But he gave him no answer, not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed.

²² Pilate said to them, “Then what shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” They all said, “Let him be crucified!” ²³ And he said, “Why, what evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Let him be crucified!” ²⁴ So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd,

Pilate, seeing that he was losing control of the crowd, relented to their demands and handed Jesus over to be crucified. To understand why, you have to understand who Pilate was.

Until 1961, the primary evidence for the existence of Pontius Pilate was the New Testament record and a few scant references in later copies of Roman histories. Then, in 1961, archaeologists discovered “the Pilate Stone,” a limestone block with three lines of Latin carved into it.

Line One: TIBERIEUM

Line Two: (PON) TIUS

Line Three: (PRAEF) ECTUS IUDA (EAE)

William Barclay offers some insight into what kind of man he must have been.

            Pilate was officially procurator of the province; and he was directly responsible, not to the Roman senate, but to the Roman Emperor. He must have been at least twenty-seven years of age, for that was the minimum age for entering on the office of procurator. He must have been a man of considerable experience, for there was a ladder of offices, including military command, up which a man must climb until he became qualified to become a governor. Pilate must have been a tried and tested soldier and administrator. He became procurator of Judaea in A.D. 26 and held office for ten years, until he was recalled from his post.[2]

Barclay has further outlined certain details of Pilate’s life and career that demonstrate the kind of man he was and the reason why the Jews despised him so very much. Among these details are the following:

• Every governor of Judaea before Pilate had removed the Roman insignia of the eagle in order to honor the Jews’ abhorrence of graven images. Pilate would not do so.

• When Pilate launched a major product to put a new aqueduct in Jerusalem to insure better water for the city, he paid for it with money from the Temple treasury.

• The Jews had threatened to report Pilate’s obstinacy and cruelty to the Emperor, a fact that galled him greatly.

• Pilate was recalled to Rome after he savagely butchered a group of Samaritans who had gathered at Mount Gerizim in Samaria to see a reputed messianic figure.

• Legend has it that Pilate committed suicide and his body was thrown into the Tiber River. However, his evil spirit agitated the waters so much that they pulled him out and threw him in the Rhone. After those waters were likewise agitated, he was buried in Lausanne.[3]

Again, the picture that emerges is not worthy of emulation. It is is worthy of disdain. Pilate knew that he was already on thin ice with Rome and that he likely would not survive another uprising. Thus, he did what was politically expedient and gave in to the unjust demands of the baying crowd. Even modern politicians see this in Pilate’s behavior. For instance, former Prime Minister Tony Blair admits to being intrigued by Pilate and said this about him:

[Pilate] commands our moral attention not because he is a bad man, but because he was so nearly a good man. One can imagine him agonising, seeing that Jesus had done nothing wrong, and wishing to release him. Just as easily, however, one can envisage his advisers telling him of the risks, warning him not to inflame public opinion. It is a timeless parable of political life.[4]

It is true that Pilate seems not to have had any personal animus toward Jesus. It is true that Pilate seems to have been intrigued by Jesus. It is likewise true that Pilate appears to have known that Jesus was innocent. But I ask you: do those facts make Pilates’ capitulation less or more shameful? Surely they make them more shameful.

Pilate was protecting Pilate…much as you and I are tempted to protect ourselves when following Jesus would cost us something. Is it not so? The subtle temptation to be silent instead of speaking up for the truth of the gospel is itself a Pilate temptation. The temptation to take the easy road just at that point where following Jesus would actually cost us something is a Pilate temptation.

Church, it costs to follow Jesus. It would have cost Pilate to do so, but it would have been the better way.

Pilate rejected Jesus though he attempted to say that he had not really done so.

Of course, Pilate, like us, was quick to justify his rejection as not really being a rejection. He even indulged in dramatic theater in an effort to distance himself from his own rejection.

²⁴ So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” ²⁵ And all the people answered, “His blood be on us and on our children!” ²⁶ Then he released for them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, delivered him to be crucified.

“I am innocent of this man’s blood.” Would that it were that easy. Would that we could actually remove ourselves from culpability on the basis that, while, yes, we did reject Jesus, we nonetheless think very highly of him. It is no use saying that you personally saw nothing wrong in Jesus while you yourself turn Him over to the mob.

We try the very same thing. In numerous ways we try to say that our rejections are not actual rejections. We dress up our rejections in the language of cultural sensitivity or language about this not being “the right time” to bear witness to Christ. In truth, it seems that the most timid people in the modern world are Christians. But these timid avoidances of proclamation are as much rejections in the moment as was Pilate’s. They are as much an attempt to wash our hands clean of the charge of abandonment as was Pilate’s.

There is a an old legend stating that Pilate rises from his mountain grave and emerges every good Friday to wash his hands. The idea behind the legend is that this token effort at proclaiming innocence was shamefully inadequate and now is his eternal curse. We are known by our fruits, and, in the end, Jesus passes through Pilate’s hands to get to the cross. He cannot escape that.

This is why I object to the veneration of Pilate as some sort of saint. I am afraid if we canonize him as some have we will be canonizing one of the more absurd efforts at sidestepping the obvious in the history of the world. We will be canonizing the political dodge, the loophole, the, “Well, I always liked Jesus so it cannot really be said that I rejected Him per se.”

But that is exactly what it means, be it Pilate or us.

Pilate could have stood with Jesus. He was simply unwilling to pay the price for doing so.

As we prepare to approach the Lord’s Supper table, I would like to remind us of this fairly obvious fact: Pilate could have stood with Jesus.

He could have.

What would have happened if he would have refused to turn Jesus over, if he would have proclaimed his allegiance to Christ? At the least it would have been the end of his political career and it may have cost him his life. But he would have been standing with the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

This text on Pilate is an unlikely communion text, but perhaps not as unlikely as we might think. After all, the table of the Lord calls us to a clear proclamation of what side we inhabit. Will we stand with Jesus or, like Pilate, will we reject Him and then try to say that it really was not a rejection at all? Will we take the cross, or will we choose the path of self-preservation? After all, the elements speak of a torn body and shed blood. It costs to follow Jesus. That is why we eat and drink.

This do in remembrance of Me.

To do in remembrance of Pilate is to look out for yourself. To do in remembrance of Jesus is to take the cross and follow Him.

We come to a table and think about flesh and blood, not about Roman thrones and upward mobility.

So here is the question: will you come to the table, or will you deny King Jesus? It does no good to say that your denials are not, in fact, denials. Of course they are. There really is no murky middle ground in which we are somewhat for Jesus and somewhat against Him. There is only a choice between Jesus or Pilate.

Which will you choose?

Which will you choose?

[1] https://www.commonwealmagazine.org/blog/saint-pontius-pilate

[2] William Barclay, Gospel of Matthew. Vol. 2. The Daily Study Bible (Edinburgh: The Saint Andrew Press, 1967), p.394-395.

[3] William Barclay, pp.395-397.

[4] https://www.telegraph.co.uk/comment/personal-view/3556458/How-much-blood-is-on-Pontius-Pilates-hands.html