Trust the Master

 

Trust the Master

Trust the Master - Audio/Visual 

Then Jesus asked them, “When I sent you out to preach the Good News and you did not have money, a traveler’s bag or an extra pair of sandals, did you need anything?” “No,” they replied. “But now,” he said, “take your money and a traveler’s bag. And if you don’t have a sword, sell your cloak and buy one! For the time has come for this prophecy about me to be fulfilled: ‘He was counted among the rebels.’ Yes, everything written about me by the prophets will come true.” (Luke 22:35-37)

A man and his dog are in a car. The dog’s howling – like firetrucks racing to a 4-alarm blaze. The man pleads with the mutt to stop the caterwauling, promising a daily delivery of dog biscuit bouquets if the hound will only hush. After all, it's just a car wash. It never occurred to him – uh, me – that the car wash would scare my dog. But it did. Placing myself in his paws, I guess I can see why. A huge, noisy machine presses toward us, pounding our window with water, banging against the door with brushes and using hurricane-force winds to dry it off. “Duck! We're under attack,” my dog was pleading. "Don't panic. The car wash was my idea," I responded. "I've done this before." "It's for our own good," I reason. But have you ever tried to explain a car wash to a canine? Dog dictionaries are minus the words “brush” and “power-wash.” My words fell on fallen flaps. Nothing helped. He just did what dogs do; he wailed.

Actually, he did what we do. We howl too. Not at car washes mind you, but at hospital stays and job transfers. Let the economy go south, or the kids move east and we have a wail of a time. And when our Master explains what's happening, we act like he's speaking a foreign language – we don’t understand a word he says. Is your world wet and wild? It seems that God's greatest blessings often come costumed as disasters. And if there are any doubters, all you need to do is go to Calvary.

Jerusalem's collective opinion on that fateful Friday was this: Jesus was done. What other conclusion made sense? The religious leaders had turned him in. Rome had refused to bail him out. His followers had fled for the hills. He was nailed to a cross and left to die. And he did. They silenced his lips, sealed his tomb and, as any priest worth the price of his phylactery would tell you, Jesus was history; toast. Three years of power and promises were now decomposing in a borrowed grave. Search the crucifixion sky for a single ray of hope and you won't find one. That’s the view of his disciples, the opinion of his friends and the outlook of his enemies. Call it the “back seat driver (dog) in the car wash” view of things. But the Master who actually sits behind the wheel of the car in the carwash thinks much differently. And who likes back seat drivers?

God is not surprised. His plan is right on schedule. Even in death Christ is still the king; the king over his own crucifixion. Want proof? During his final twenty-four hours on earth, what one word did Jesus speak the most? Search these verses for a recurring noun: "I, the Son of Man, must die, as the Scriptures declared long ago." (Matt. 26:24) "’Tonight all of you will desert me,’ Jesus told them. ‘For the Scriptures say, “God will strike the Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.'" (Matt. 26:31) He could have called thousands of angels to help him but he didn't, and here’s why: "If I did, how would the Scriptures be fulfilled that describe what must happen now?" (Matt. 26:54)

Rather than fault the soldiers who arrested him, he explained that they were simply players in a drama they didn't write. "But this is all happening to fulfill the words of the prophets as recorded in the Scriptures." (Matt. 26:56) "The Scriptures declare, 'The one who shares my food has turned against me,' and this will soon come true." (John 13:18) To his heavenly Father he prayed: "I guarded them so that not one was lost, except the one headed for destruction, as the Scriptures foretold." (John 17:12) He said to them, "The Scripture says, 'He was treated like a criminal,' and I tell you this scripture must have its full meaning. It was written about me, and it is happening now." (Luke 22:37)

Did you see the noun? “Love; “Sacrifice;” “Devotion” – all terms that we might expect to read. But the word that leads the list is “Scripture,” and it reveals this truth: Jesus orchestrated his final days to fulfill Old Testament prophecies, or Scripture. As if he were following some sort of checklist, Jesus checked them off one by one. But why did Scripture matter so much to Christ? Better yet, why does it matter to us that it mattered to Jesus? Because Jesus loves the Thomas’ among us. While others kneel and worship, we typically stroke our chins and wonder if we could see some proof. "How can I know the death of Christ is anything more than the death of a man?" Well, you can begin your investigation with that noun, i.e., Scripture.

More Old Testament prophecy was realized during the crucifixion than on any other day - ever. Twenty-nine different prophecies, the youngest of which was five hundred years old, were completed on the day of Christ's death. Now what are the odds of such a constellation? The answer even staggers the statisticians whose job it is to figure stuff like that out. Mathematician, Peter Stoner, estimates the probability of just eight prophecies being fulfilled in one lifetime this way: “Cover the state of Texas two feet deep in silver dollars. On one silver dollar place a mark. What is the probability that a person could, on the first attempt, select the marked dollar? Those are the same odds that eight prophecies would be satisfied in the life of one man.” But Christ fulfilled twenty-nine. In one day. Here are some examples.

“He was counted among the rebels.” (Isaiah 53.12) “But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed.” (Isa. 53:5) “They pierced My hands and My feet.” (Ps. 22:16) “They divide My garments among them, and for My clothing they cast lots.” (Ps. 22:18) "’And it shall come to pass in that day,’ says the Lord GOD, ‘that I will make the sun go down at noon, and I will darken the earth in broad daylight.’" (Amos 8:9) So, don't call Jesus a victim of circumstances. Call him the orchestrator of circumstances. He engineered the actions of his enemies to fulfill prophecy. And he commandeered the tongues of his enemies to declare his truth.

For instance, Christ didn’t say much on that Friday. He didn't need to. His accusers provided accurate play-by-play commentary for him. Remember the sign nailed to the cross? “And Pilate posted a sign over him that read, ‘Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.’ The place where Jesus was crucified was near the city; and the sign was written in Hebrew, Latin and Greek so that many people could read it.” (John 19:19-20) Trilingual truth. Thank you, Pilate, for funding the first advertising campaign of the cross and introducing Jesus as the King of the Jews. And thanks to the Pharisees for the sermon: “He saved others; himself he cannot save.” (Matt. 27:42) Could words have been any more accurate? Jesus could not, at the same time, save others and save himself, too. So, he saved others.

And the award for the most unlikely spokesman goes to the high priest that day, Caiaphas, who said, "It is better for one man to die for the people than for the whole nation to be destroyed." (John 11:50) Was Caiaphas a believer? Sure sounds like one. And, in point of fact, it was better for Christ to die than for all of us to perish. Caiaphas gets no argument from heaven. In fact, you'd almost think heaven caused him to say what he did. And if that's what you were thinking, you’re right. “Caiaphas did not think of this himself …. He was really prophesying that Jesus would die for [the Jewish] nation and for God's scattered children to bring them all together and make them one.” (vv. 51-52)

What's going on here? Caiaphas preaching for Christ? The Pharisees explaining the cross? Pilate painting evangelistic billboards? Out of tragedy emerges triumph. Every disaster proves to be a victory. It reminds me of a parable about a mule who stumbled into a dry well. The villagers compared the effort of a rescue with the value of the animal and decided to bury the poor critter. So, they started shoveling dirt into the cistern. But the mule had other ideas. As the clods hit his back, he shook them off and stomped them down. Each spade of earth lifted him higher. Eventually, he reached the top of the well and walked out big-as-you-please. What his would-be killers thought would bury him actually delivered him. And the men who murdered Jesus did the same.

Their actions elevated Jesus. Everything – the bad and the good, the evil and the decent – worked together for man’s good. Should we be surprised? Didn't he promise this would happen? "We know that in everything God works for the good of those who love him." (Rom. 8:28) Everything? Yes, everything. Chicken-hearted disciples. A two-timing Judas. A pierced side. Spineless Pharisees. A hardhearted high priest. In everything God worked. I challenge you to find one element of the cross that he did not manage for good or recycle for symbolism. Go ahead. Try. I think you'll find what I found – that every dark detail was actually a shining moment in the cause of Christ.

So, can't he do the same for you? Can't he turn your Friday into a Sunday? Some of you probably doubt that. I mean, how can God use cancer or death or divorce? Simple. He's smarter than we are. He is to you what I was to little five-year-old Amanda. I met her years ago in a pre-school Bible class at church. She asked me if I could print her name in her Bible. When I asked her name, she watched as I began to write, "A … m … a….”  She stopped me right there. With eyes wide and mouth open wider, she asked, "How did you know how to spell my name?" She was awestruck.

You aren't, though. You know the difference between the knowledge of a child and an adult. So, can you imagine the difference between the wisdom of a human and the wisdom of God? What’s impossible to us is like spelling "Amanda" to God. "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts." (Isa. 55:9)

After that first adventure, I still took my dog to the car wash. Gratefully, he howled a little less. I just don't think he understood the machinery. Maybe he learned to trust his master. We’d do well to do the same.

Grace,

Randy

Abandoned for You

 

Abandoned for You

Abandoned for You - Audio/Visual 

At noon, darkness fell across the whole land until three o’clock. At about three o’clock, Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” which means “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” Some of the bystanders misunderstood and thought he was calling for the prophet Elijah. One of them ran and filled a sponge with sour wine, holding it up to him on a reed stick so he could drink. But the rest said, “Wait! Let’s see whether Elijah comes to save him.”

Then Jesus shouted out again, and he released his spirit. At that moment, the curtain in the sanctuary of the Temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, rocks split apart, and tombs opened. The bodies of many godly men and women who had died were raised from the dead. They left the cemetery after Jesus’ resurrection, went into the holy city of Jerusalem, and appeared to many people. The Roman officer and the other soldiers at the crucifixion were terrified by the earthquake and all that had happened. They said, “This man truly was the Son of God!” (Matt. 27:45-54)

Abandoned. Such a haunting word. On the edge of a small town sits a decrepit house with weeds higher than the porch. Boarded windows, and a screen door bouncing in the wind. Attached to the front gate is a sign that reads: Abandoned. No one wants the place. Even the poor and desperate pass it by.

A social worker appears at the door of an orphanage. In her big hand is the much smaller, dirtier hand of a six-year-old girl. As the adults speak, the wide eyes of the child explore the office of the director. She hears the worker whisper, "Abandoned. She was abandoned."

An elderly woman in a convalescent home rocks alone in her room on her birthday. No cards, no calls, no song. A young wife discovers romantic e-mails sent by her husband to another woman. After thirty years on the factory line, a worker finds a pink slip taped to his locker. Abandoned by family. Abandoned by a spouse. Abandoned by big business. But nothing compares to being abandoned by God.

“At noon, darkness fell across the whole land until three o’clock. At about three o’clock, Jesus called out with a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ which means “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?’" (Matt. 27:45-46) By the time Christ screamed those words, he’d been hanging on the cross for six hours. Earlier that day, around nine o'clock that morning, he had stumbled to the cleft of Skull Hill, or Golgotha. A soldier pressed a knee on his forearm and drove a spike through one wrist, then the other, then another one through both feet. And as the Romans lifted the cross, they unwittingly placed Christ in the very position in which he had come to die – suspended between man and God. A priest on his own altar.

Noises intermingle on the hill – pharisees mocking, swords clanging and dying men groaning. Jesus scarcely speaks. But when he does, it’s like loose diamonds sparkling against black velvet. He gives his killers grace, and his mother a son. He answers the prayer of a thief and asks for a drink from a soldier. Then, at midday, darkness falls like a curtain. "At noon, darkness fell across the whole land until three o’clock." (Matt. 27:45)

This was not a casual gathering of clouds, or a brief eclipse of the sun. This is a supernatural darkness. This is a three-hour blanket of blackness. Merchants in Jerusalem light candles. Soldiers ignite torches. Parents worry. People everywhere ask questions: “Where is this noonday night coming from?” In fact, as far away as Egypt the historian, Dionysius, takes notice of the blackened sky and writes, "Either the God of nature is suffering, or the machine of the world is tumbling into ruin."

Of course the sky is dark. People are killing the Light of the World. The universe grieves, and God said it would. "On that day . . . I will make the sun go down at noon and darken the earth in broad daylight. . . . I will make it like the mourning for an only son, and the end of it like a bitter day." (Amos 8:9-10) The sky weeps, and a lamb bleats.

Remember the time of the scream? "At about three o'clock Jesus cried out." Three o'clock in the afternoon – the hour of the temple sacrifice. Less than a mile to the east, a finely clothed priest leads a lamb to the slaughter unaware that his work has been rendered futile. Heaven isn’t looking at the lamb of man, but at "the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world." (John 1:29)

A weeping sky. A bleating lamb. But more than anything else, a screaming Savior. "Jesus cried out with a loud voice." (Matt. 27:46) Note the adjective, loud. Other writers employed the Greek word for "loud voice" to describe a "roar." So, it’s not as if the soldiers were cupping an ear asking him to speak up. The Lamb roared. "The sun and the moon shall be darkened. . . . The LORD also shall roar out of Zion and utter his voice from Jerusalem." (Joel 3:15-16) Christ lifts his heavy head and eyelids toward the heavens and spends his final energy roaring out toward the ducking stars, "Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?' which means, 'My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?'" (Matt. 27:46)

Have you ever asked yourself the same? Why Jesus? Why abandon your Son? Forsake the murderers. Desert the evildoers. Turn your back on child traffickers and peddlers of pain. Abandon them, but not him. Why would you abandon earth's only sinless soul? There’s that word again: abandon.

The house no one wants. The child no one claims. The parent no one remembers. The Savior no one understands. He pierces the darkness with heaven's loneliest question: "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?" Paul used the same Greek word when he urged Timothy, "Be diligent to come to me quickly; for Demas has abandoned me, having loved this present world, and has departed for Thessalonica." (2 Tim. 4:9-10) As Paul looks for Demas, Demas is nowhere to be found. Paul’s been abandoned. And as Jesus looks for his Father, God’s nowhere to be found. God abandoned his son on the cross.

 But wait. Doesn't David tell us, "I have never seen the righteous forsaken"? (Ps. 37:25) Yes, he did. Well then, did David misspeak? Did Jesus misstep? No, neither. Because in this hour Jesus is anything but righteous. But his mistakes are not his own. "Christ carried our sins in his body on the cross so we would stop living for sin and start living for what is right." (1 Pet. 2:24) Christ carried all our sins in his body.

Our past is laced with the outbursts of anger, or stained with nights of godless passion, or spotted with undiluted greed that Jesus took upon himself. And suppose your past was made public? Suppose you were to stand on a stage while a film of every secret and selfish second was projected on the screen behind you for all the world to see? Wouldn’t you want to just crawl into a hole? Wouldn’t you scream for the heavens to have mercy on you? And wouldn’t you feel just a fraction . . . just a fraction of what Christ felt on the cross? The icy displeasure of a sin-hating God? Jesus, enduring a billion times more, wondered the same.

Christ carried all of our sins in his body. See him there on the cross? That's a gossiper hanging there. See Jesus? He’s the embezzler. The liar. The bigot. See the crucified carpenter? He's a wife beater. A porn addict. A murderer. See Bethlehem's boy? Call him by his other names – Adolf Hitler, Osama bin Laden and Jeffrey Dahmer. Really? Lumping Christ in with all those evildoers? Yes, but I didn’t put him in the same sentence with the likes of Hitler, bin Laden or Dahmer. Jesus did – and more.

More than placing his name in the same sentence, he put himself in their place. And he’s done the same for you, too. With hands nailed open, he invited God, "Treat me as you would treat them!" And God did. In an act that broke the heart of the Father, yet honored the holiness of heaven, sin-purging judgment flowed over the sinless Son of the ages. (Rom. 3:25-26) And heaven gave earth her finest gift. The Lamb of God who took away the sins of the world. (John 1:29)

"My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?" Why did Christ scream those words?

So you'll never have to.

Grace,

Randy