The Cross as Discipleship (1 Peter 2:21-25)

THE CROSS OF DISCIPLESHIP:

THE SHAPE OF A CRUCIFIED LIFE

 

What does it mean to follow in the steps of Jesus? Anyone of us could answer this question and back up our answer with scripture. Love your neighbor. Love your enemy. Do good. Forgive. But the doing is not as easy as the answering. 

            One thing in this life that feels as natural as breathing is getting even. If someone wounds you, something in you reaches for a weapon. Maybe not a fist; maybe it’s a word or a sentence. Maybe it’s silence. Something sharp. Our culture even encourages getting even as if it were a human right.

            Have you ever experienced a moment where you knew something was wrong but felt justified in doing it anyways? You may have said to yourself, “Yes, it’s wrong to _______ but because of __________, I had no choice.” 

            It is wrong to gossip, but this person is so infuriating I need to tell others about him.

            It is wrong to steal, but the company charges huge fees, they won’t miss it. 

            It is wrong to assault a person, but they deserved it. 

            And if we don’t retaliate in some form or fashion, the person doing the greater wrong will get away with it. If we don’t even the score, we will look weak and invite more abuse. 

            But does this fit the pattern of following in the steps of Jesus? I am certain you will agree it does not. 

            The same Peter who felt justified in slicing an ear off a guy to protect Jesus, now says something completely different. Peter tells us that Jesus does not simply save us by his cross, he also set the pattern for how we are to walk in life. To follow in Jesus’ steps leads to the cross and that means suffering for doing good. In fact, God used the weakness of Christ to change the world. And now God is asking us to trust him to use our weakness to change our little corner of the world. In 1 Peter 2 we are called to step into the footprints of Jesus, to take up our cross, and follow him.

1. The Calling: A Life Shaped by the Cross (2:21a; Mark 8:34)

 

We have been called to follow Jesus. Jesus said in Mark 8:34, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” Tradition says that John Mark wrote this gospel account with the help of the Apostle Peter. There is an echo of Jesus’ invitation in Peter’s letter. 

            “To this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you…” (21a). Do you see the connection? The invitation to follow Jesus leads to the cross, and the cross is the place where we surrender our egos to suffer, even unjustly. 

            We need to back up a little in the text because we have jumped right into the middle of Peter’s point. Looking back, we read twice in verses 13-20 the words “be subject.” In two unusual situations, Peter encourages followers of Jesus to submit to authorities who are over us. 

            The first situation calls on believers to “Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution…” (13). Then he says it again in a different way, “Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor,”(17). A person who has been born again (1:3) through faith in Christ is someone who submits to “every” authority no matter how just or unjust. This is astounding because the emperor at this time is likely Nero. And Peter says submit! Imagine submitting to a regime that doesn’t acknowledge God. Imagine a government that deems your faith to be out of sync with national values. And you are just supposed to live peaceably and honorably under this authority. 

            The second situation calls on believers to “be subject to your masters with all respect. It is said that one quarter of the Roman Empire consisted of slaves; 60 million people were slaves. This is not the same as the American experience of slavery. Many slaves were beloved members of families; they were doctors and teachers. But they were enslaved. Now Peter tells the slave who loves Jesus to submit to his or her master if they are good or even if they are unjust. And if you are beaten for something you didn’t do, or for something you did that was good, endure it. We modern preachers often try to liken this to a bad boss, but you and I have a choice when it comes to where we work. We can quit and find a new job. This situation is inescapable. But the principle stands: If you suffer for doing something good “this is a gracious thing in the sight of God” (20). Why? Because Christ also suffered for you…

            This “following Jesus” invitation is a difficult path. A life shaped by the cross asks you to join in Christ’s suffering.

 

2. The Pattern: Following in the Steps of Jesus (21b-23)

 

Peter tells us that Jesus left us a pattern to follow. He wrote that Christ “also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps,” (21b-d). 

            The word “example” was used to describe the way children learned to write their letters and numbers by tracing over them. I remember doing that in grade school tracing over our ABCs again and again till I got the shapes right. You could also think of trying to step into dad’s footprints in the snow to avoid getting a boot full of snow. 

            Jesus set a pattern in suffering. When he invited you to take up your cross and follow him, suffering was an inherent part of the journey. These are difficult steps to follow. Look at how Peter describes these steps: “He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in his mouth. When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten…” Essentially, Jesus did not retaliate when they insulted him or hurt him. He didn’t strike back and take a shot at Caiaphas or Pilate. He entrusted himself to God in that moment. That is NOT what comes naturally to humans like us. We are inclined to seek revenge.

            In the movie Braveheart, William Wallace and his horse are prancing between the English and the Scottish armies, and someone says, “Where do you think you’re going?” And Wallace answers, “I’m going to pick a fight.” Our instincts sound more like Braveheart than Jesus. “Pick a fight. Take them down. Defend your freedom.” We are familiar with that feeling. 

            That is not the way of Jesus when he suffered injury. Peter countered vengeance when suffering with the call to be “mindful of God” (19). And what does that mean? It means we care more about God’s reputation than our own. It means we are thinking of how he might be glorified rather than how we might be vindicated. It means that, like Jesus, we are so confident that God will cause justice to prevail that we don’t need to pursue it ourselves. It means that we are so conscious of his commitment to set things right in the end that we don’t need to set things right in the present (Sam Storms).

            Following in the steps of Jesus is not about weakness and becoming a doormat. It’s not about enabling abuse or refusing to seek help when harm is done. It’s about trusting God (see end of v. 23). It looks like weakness. “We worship – as incredible as it sounds – a crucified God. All religions…worship some version of a powerful, glorious, triumphant God; but Christians are unique in worshiping a betrayed, tortured, crucified God. This is the original scandal of the Christian faith – the worship of a God who was nailed to a tree! (Brian Zahnd). God demonstrates his power precisely in the weakness of Christ on the cross. And that is the pattern we are called to step into.

 

3. The Purpose: Where do these Steps lead? (24-25)

 

We know the purpose of Christ’s suffering. He went to the cross to die for our sins. But what is the purpose of stepping into this suffering ourselves? His suffering saves: our suffering seems pointless. 

            Peter speaks to both Christ’s suffering and ours in the plan of God. First, he emphasizes why Jesus suffered. “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed,” (24). If Jesus did not suffer and die, we could not be saved. He died for our sins so that we could live without sin; that’s what it means to live to righteousness. Or to say it another way, “You are free to live differently.” And that’s where we begin to react to injury and insult with a new perspective. 

            Second, Peter emphasizes that the suffering of Jesus brings us back to God. Peter heavily references Isaiah 53 when he says, “For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls,” (25). This was Christ’s main goal – to bring us to God (see 3:18). 

            But this does not explain why we have to suffer. Or does it? It does! When the Christian suffers insult and injury without complaint and with unfailing love, he or she demonstrates a life to others that will lead them to God. This is what verses 11-12 explain (read). That we are “sojourners and exiles” simply means that we don’t belong to this world; we are “not of this world” and so we don’t respond to offenses the way the world does. And when others see the good deeds, we do it will lead them back to the Shepherd and Overseer of their souls.

            We don’t suffer to save the world. But in our suffering, we show the world what Jesus is like.

            Warren Wiersbe said, “Here, then, is the wonderful truth Peter wanted to share: as we live godly lives and submit in times of suffering, we are following Christ’s example and becoming more like him. We submit and obey, not only for the sake of lost souls and for the Lord’s sake, but also for our own sake, that we might grow spiritually and become more like Christ…The unsaved world is watching us, but the Shepherd in heaven is also watching over us; so, we have nothing to fear. We can submit to him and know that he will work everything together for our good and his glory.” 

            In Mark 8:34 Jesus invites us to take up the cross and follow him.

            In 1 Peter 2:21-25, Peter shows us what it looks like when we do. 

 

What does it mean to follow in the steps of Jesus?

            In 1896 a man named Charles M. Sheldon wrote a book entitled In His Steps. It became a best-selling Christian novel in its time and is in the top 10 best-selling books of all time. Have you heard of it? 

            The story follows a fictional pastor named Henry Maxwell who was preaching one Sunday morning when a homeless man enters the sanctuary and challenges the congregation. The homeless man eventually dies in the home of Maxwell who had taken him in. It spurs the pastor to do something with their faith. He poses a question to the congregation and challenges them to do nothing without first asking, “What would Jesus do?” You’ve heard of that saying, right? It has a powerful effect on the community, and the story goes on to follow a popular and gifted singer who decides to use her voice to bless people at a soup kitchen. A newspaperman also decides to use his paper to print the truth. 

            The question, “What would Jesus do?” has become a popular catchphrase among evangelicals. But someone once said it is the wrong question. A better question is “What did Jesus do?” If that’s the case, then the question is not “What would Jesus do?” but “What did Jesus do…and will I follow him there?” Because following him will lead you into moments where you could strike back…but don’t. Where you could defend yourself…but instead entrust yourself to God.

            As Michael said last Sunday in his message, we were not saved to go to heaven; we were saved to live as difference makers on earth. To follow in his steps and entrust ourselves to God’s justice means taking up the cross of discipleship and live differently.

 

                                                            AMEN

 

The Cross as Reconciliation (Romans 5:1-11)

THE CROSS OF RECONCILIATION

 

You may be sitting here this morning going through a hard time. Do you feel like you are drowning on the inside? Like your prayers are barely making it past the ceiling? You just can’t find the words. You feel dry. There’s even dust on your Bible. And then there are those nagging sinful habits that you can’t seem to overcome. As a Christian you feel like a failure and wonder how God could love someone like you.

            Do you feel like this? You’re not alone. Every Christian knows the feeling of falling short. We all feel like we come up short of being a “good Christian.” Our failure eats away at our assurance of God’s love because we have become convinced that we must earn it.

            The truth is, according to the Bible, there is nothing we have done or could do to earn the love of God. You cannot read your Bible enough; you cannot serve on enough committees; you cannot do anything to make God love you more. We can do nothing in and of ourselves to help ourselves – so Jesus did it for us. 

            Last week we talked about the Cross of Substitution and how Jesus took our place and bore our penalty. That’s court language. It helps us to know that while our sin condemned us, we are declared innocent in God’s court. But today we are talking about another aspect of the cross that speaks of relationship. The Cross of Reconciliation speaks of God’s desire to have a relationship with us; it is heart language. The Cross of Christ is the assurance that God has made every effort to make this possible. 

            So why do we struggle with the idea of God loving us? If you doubt your access to God’s love, let’s reflect on the message of reconciliation that we see in Romans 5. The message of this passage is simple but powerful: if God reconciled us to himself when we were his enemies through the death of Christ, then we can be absolutely certain that he will finish saving us now that we belong to him.

1. The Certainty of Our Salvation (Rom. 5:1-2)

 

At times you may wonder, “How sure is my salvation?” The question has been asked many times by many people. Specific Christian groups even deny that a person can have the assurance of salvation. God’s love is in doubt as a result.

            When Paul wrote to the Romans, many Jewish people believed that forgiveness was temporary. They had a hard time believing that their sins were off the books; they thought God was storing up his wrath for the judgment day. Am I really forgiven? How can I be forgiven? To use court language, am I really “not guilty” in the eyes of the judge?

            Yes! And Paul begins with court language saying, “…since we have been justified by faith…” speaking of forgiveness with a perfect certainty. There is no doubt in this statement and no condition to be met. We have been justified – declared “not guilty” – that’s it! Believe it! That’s the key: by faith, we believe God when he says we are forgiven. 

            Then Paul slips into the language of reconciliation when he says, “…we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ…” You see, we start with the court proceedings and settle the penalty for our sins with Christ’s substitution. But then God moves beyond the legalities because he wants more. God wants that relationship with us and so declares that we have peace with him. Our sin created a wall of hostility between us and God, but sin is dealt with through Christ and we don’t need to fear God’s wrath.

            God moves EVEN closer to us by opening his most intimate sanctum to us. Through Christ “…we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand…” The progression is astounding: the first move is to forgive us our sins; the second move is to declare there is nothing between us and God (peace); but the third move is unexpected – we can come to God and know him. 

            The tone of these verses is an undeniable certainty that our salvation is assured because God has done this. 

2. Our Helpless Condition (5:6-7)

 

What makes this salvation all the more incredible is that our condition before God was such that a) God had no obligation to help us, and b) we could not help ourselves. For our part, there was nothing we could do to reconcile with God. Consider how our condition according to verses 6-10:

            Paul begins “For while we were still weak…” The NIV says “powerless.” What he means is, we were spiritually and morally powerless people. We were/are unable to prove ourselves worthy of Christ’s sacrifice. We were helpless to do anything that might attract God’s love. There’s that old saying, “God helps those who help themselves.” That’s garbage. God helps those who are utterly and absolutely helpless.

            We are ungodly people. As it says “…at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.” To be ungodly kind of means “being unlike God.” God is pure and consistently holy; he is so good and there is no evil or hypocrisy in him. It also means that as ungodly people we stood opposed to God. When we say someone is “un-Canadian” we mean they don’t like hockey – or rather, they embrace an ideology that is contrary to Canadian thinking and practice. To be ungodly means we reject God’s values and truths. We don’t like God. When God says “yes” we say “no.” These are the people Christ died for. 

            Sinners. Do you see the flow of thought? While we were weak…while we were ungodly… “while we were still sinners.” There are three kinds of people in the world: those who are good at math and those who are not… But there are not two classes of people when it comes to sin: those who sin and those who don’t. We are all defiant sinners. 

            The last description is the hardest to hear. “…while we were enemies…” of God. Don’t play it down; it means everything that you think it means. Paul does not say we were merely mistaken. He does not say we were spiritually confused. He says we were enemies of God.

            But salvation never begins with human initiative…

3. The Cross is Proof of God’s Love (5:8)

 

Salvation is fully God’s initiative. Note these beautiful little words: But God! We were helpless, powerless, useless… “but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” 

            Who would you die for? I would take a bullet for my wife. You may give a kidney for a friend. Mothers would gladly die for their children. But would you die for the person who kidnapped your child? Fathers would give their lives for the sake of a child. But would you give yourself for the drunk driver who ran them over? No. 

            Paul reasons that we would be reluctant to die for a good person, a righteous person. The logic suggests that, in all honesty, we would have to assess the situation. Is this person worth dying for? If God’s logic was like this, he would surely say that we were not worth it. 

            So, what motivated God to send his Son to die for us? Love! God did not wait for us to love him before he sent his Son to the cross. Jesus died for sinners. Jesus died for those who messed up their lives. Before you and I even thought of God, God thought of us – and planned to give up his Son. 

            God decided to drench us with his love. Earlier Paul described God’s love like this: “…God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us,” (5). I hear in this picture of God’s love a waterfall roaring over us. Not a trickle, but an overwhelming flood of love. 

            As we observe the cross of Christ, we see then a “demonstration” of God’s love. The cross did not move God’s heart to love you. The cross IS God’s heart of love for you. It is an unusual symbol of love considering that it is one of the most horrible ways to kill a person. It is cruel and grotesque as the story of Spartacus reminds us, where thousands of rebels were crucified along the Roman roads.  

            But if you wonder if God loves you, and you feel like he doesn’t, the cross is proof that he does. (Micah Tyler)

 

4. Much, Much More (5:9-11)

 

What are the benefits to us of this incredible act of love as seen in the cross of Christ? And to this, you should ask, “You mean there’s more?” 

            Paul proposes that there is more. “Since, therefore, we have been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if we while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.” 

            Paul cannot contain himself as he thinks of the benefits we now enjoy because of the cross of Christ. His argument is surprisingly simple. If God did the hardest thing when we were his enemies, how much more will he finish the work now that we are reconciled to him. There are three “much more” advantages that we see in this text:

1 – Much more – we are saved from God’s wrath.

2 – Much more – we are reconciled to God through Christ.

3 – Much more – we rejoice in God with a new perspective. 

            He explains himself a little better in Romans 8:32 where he says of God, “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will not also with him graciously give us all things?” So, Paul’s argument simply stated is this: If the greatest and most costly and most sacrificial thing God could do for us was to send his Son to suffer and die on a cross, will he not also do the easier things for us that will help us in this life? 

            The cross is the most expensive part of our salvation. The cross is the most difficult part of God’s story of love. Surely the rest is easier. Through the cross, God’s wrath is satisfied. Through the cross, we are reconciled to God and made family. Through the cross, we have a new perspective that even in and through our suffering, God is at work (5:3-4).

            God has done the hard part of reconciling us to himself. I love the story of the Ormands and the Kildares, and so I will share it again… In 1492, two Irish families, the Ormands and the Kildares, were in the midst of a bitter feud. The feud became an all-out fight, with the Kildares besieging the Ormands. The Earl of Ormand and his family finally took refuge in the chapter house of St. Patrick’s Cathedral. But the Earl of Kildare realized that the fighting was getting out of control. These two families worshiped the same God, in the same church, but were trying to kill each other. Kildare called out to Ormand and promised not to seek revenge or try anything nasty. He wanted the feud to be over. But the Earl of Ormand thought it was a trick and refused to come out. So, Kildare used his spear and hacked a hole in the door and thrust his arm through. After a tense moment…another hand reached out from the other side. The door opened and the two men embraced, ending the feud.

            God took the initiative and chopped a hole through the hostility that separated us from himself and offered his hand. 

 

Do you struggle to believe God loves you? Do you think God’s love for you fades as you muck around in life? 

            Imagine that you are climbing a mountain and a sudden weather pattern dumps snow and freezing rain on the mountain. The storm is brutal. Your visibility is gone. But someone notices that you have been gone a long time and sends a rescue team to search for you. They fight through the wind, plow through the snow, and climb dangerous icy paths to get to you. You are half-frozen, so they put you in the sled and begin down the mountain. 

            Think about this: If they were willing to risk their lives to reach you when you were lost, do you think they will stop halfway down the mountain and leave you to the elements? 

            No, the hardest part was reaching you. This is what Paul is trying to say to us today. If God gave his Son to die for us when we were his enemies, when we were far from him, when we wanted nothing to do with God, then how much more will he finish the work of saving us and bringing us home now that we believe in him? 

             The cross of Christ was the hard part of reconciliation. You can be sure God is going to complete his work of making you his child. God loves you and there is no better proof of that than the cross of reconciliation.

 

                                                AMEN

The Cross as Substitution (Isaiah 53:4-6)

 

A substitute is a person or thing that takes the place, function, or role of another. If we think of the substitute teachers we have had in our school years, we may remember how poorly we treated these victims. When a hockey player is injured and a farm team player is called up, he may be considered a poor substitute for the veteran player. Or consider a dish you are making and suddenly realize you are missing an ingredient, and you are forced to improvise. In each of these scenarios the substitute is a second-choice backup to the original. 

            On the other hand, substitution can be an honorable and heroic thing. When a person takes the place of another in order to bear their pain and save them from it. This is noble. We admire those who spare other people pain or death. We admire them even more when it costs them their own comforts. Moses was willing to have his own name blotted out of the Book of Life if God would spare Israel (Ex. 32:32). The Apostle Paul wished that he could be accursed by God if only it would save his Jewish brothers (Rom. 9:3). 

            We cannot help but be moved by such heroism. Maximilian Kolbe, the Polish priest in Auschwitz death camp, exemplified this. When a number of prisoners were chosen for execution, one of them shouted that he was a married man with children. Kolbe stepped forward and offered to take his place. The German officer agreed and sent Kolbe off to die.

            As we come to the cross today, we approach with this perspective: At the cross, Jesus does not merely stand with us in suffering; he stands for us, taking our pain, our punishment, our place. For Jesus himself said, “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends,” (Jn. 15:13). There is no greater example of substitution than Jesus.

 

 

 

1. The Servant Took Our Pain (Isaiah 53:4)

 

The best expression of this substitution is found not in the NT, but in Isaiah 53:4-6. Here Isaiah shows how the Servant takes our pain…This passage is known as the Song of the Suffering Servant. Isaiah doesn’t identify the Servant by name, but he described what the Servant would do for the people of God. 

            We observe the substitution immediately as Isaiah wrote, “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows…” The Hebrew word “borne” means “to lift up and carry a heavy load.” A great weight is placed upon the Servant, and it is described as “our griefs” and “our sorrows.” Life is full of griefs and sorrows, you will admit. But where do these griefs and sorrows come from? Why is the world the way it is with mass shootings, sexual immorality, and greed? The Bible tells us that our griefs and sorrows are the result of sin. And sin takes us back to the ultimate problem, which is not our suffering, but the cause of our suffering, our rebellion against God. 

            The Suffering Servant has come and taken that burden off of us. It has been placed on his shoulders. The image of this burden is taken straight out of Leviticus 16. On the Day of Atonement, (that’s one day every year when sacrifices were made for the sins of the nation of Israel), two goats were set aside. One goat was slaughtered for the people before the LORD and its blood sprinkled on the mercy seat. But the other goat was allowed to live. The priest would lay both hands on the goat’s head and confess over it all the iniquities and transgressions of the people. Then we read, “The goat shall bear all their iniquities on itself to a remote area, and he shall let the goat go free in the wilderness,” (16:22). What do you think happened to the goat out in the wilderness? 

            This imagery is where we get the term “scapegoat.” When a business is failing to meet its goals and quotas, the top brass sometimes try to lay the blame on a mid-level executive, some oblivious rube who has really nothing to do with the fortunes or misfortunes of the company. Someone has to take the fall; someone has to take the blame; this guy is expendable and he gets the axe. Does it help? For a time. But it never removes guilt.

            Isaiah is saying what Leviticus only hinted at: this Servant is not a ritual animal sent away for a year, but a person who bears sin once for all. Isaiah says, “…yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.” In other words, when someone suffers like this, we deduce that they deserved it. Look at Jesus on the cross. What…did…you…do? Who did you tick off? 

            Jesus suffers alone for our griefs and our sorrows. His sufferings were for us, but we had no part in them. The world stands aloof as he takes on our moral failings and spiritual diseases. We are not mentioned except as contributors of the sin that caused his pain. Our pain. He takes OUR pain upon himself. Jesus is the scapegoat for our sin. (2 Cor. 5:21)

 

2. The Servant Took Our Punishment (53:5)

 

So, the Servant takes on our pain expressed as “our griefs” and “our sorrows.” Now Isaiah goes deeper, He shows us the Servant taking our punishment…Isaiah describes the root of these griefs and sorrows as “our transgressions” and “our iniquities,” or simply, sin. You can see that the situation is no longer a matter of dealing with the “troubles of life,” or that the Servant merely steps in to take our pain; the Servant takes on punishment that belonged to us. He takes on our penalty. 

            Isaiah says, “But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement…” (stop there for a moment).

            Transgression and iniquity are not everyday words. We know “sin” but don’t use it much these days. Therapists would talk about syndromes or conditions. These terms put moral failings outside of ourselves putting the responsibility elsewhere. It’s not my fault. Isaiah doesn’t mess around: he tells us the Servant was pierced for “our transgressions” and “our iniquities.” We have missed the mark. We have fallen short of the glory of God (Rom. 3:23). We have crossed the line and broken the law. We have ruined ourselves with sin. And the Servant has taken OUR punishment. 

            I will admit these terms for sin are quite dramatic, and not many of us would describe our sins this way. A few might. But I wonder if we feel the weight of our sins in such terms. Do we really deserve the punishment that was heaped on the Servant? Think of the worst sins and the worst sinners in history and compare yourself. Our temptation is to soften Isaiah’s language. But human history does not allow us to.

            One of the most evil minds of the Holocaust was a man named Adolf Eichmann. After WWII he escaped to Argentina to avoid the death penalty. In 1959, Mossad found him and secretly brought him back to stand trial in Israel. 

            As the trial proceeded, witnesses to were called to testify against Eichmann: all were former concentration camp prisoners. One man, Yehiel Dinur, had escaped Auschwitz, was called on to testify. Dinur entered the courtroom and stared at the man in the bulletproof glass – the man who murdered his friends, a man who personally executed a number of Jews, and ordered the death of millions more. As Dinur stared at Eichmann, Dinur suddenly fell to the floor sobbing and yelling. Overcome by hatred? By memories? By this evil man? No, Dinur later explained it was because Eichmann was not the demonic personification of evil that Dinur had expected. Rather, he was an ordinary man, just like anyone else. And in that instant, Dinur came to a stunning realization that sin and evil are the human condition. “I was afraid about myself,” Dinur said, “I saw that I am capable to do this…I am exactly like he.” 

            That’s a confession of one’s own iniquity. I too am distorted by sin. My loves are disordered – that is, I love things out of proportion to their true worth. I am twisted in the core of my being. But the Servant steps in and takes my burden. “Upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.” He was pierced through – a violent and excruciating death; he was crushed and broken to pieces – no doubt by the burden of my sin. He did so you could know Peace – to have peace with God (Shalom); so you could be healed – healed from your guilt; healed from your shame; healed from your past; healed from your doubt. This healing flows from that punishment.

 

3. The Servant Took Our Place (53:6)

 

Finally, Isaiah leaves no room for evasion: the Servant has taken our place. You have heard it a thousand times: Jesus took the cross that was meant for us. We deserved the punishment that he endured. He died for us. But do we own it?

            You cannot escape this harsh reality. Isaiah wraps the responsibility around all of us, “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned – every one – to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”

            Why sheep? Why not cats? “All we like cats are mischievous and sly.” Because sheep are dumb. My brother had a sheep for a time – he named it Lambert. When I first met Lambert, he was a beautiful little lamb who sweetly came for cuddles. A while later, I saw Lambert had grown bigger and his wool was full of garbage. He liked to roll in the filth. Lambert also had a habit of jumping out of his enclosure and breaking into the garage at night to chew on things. Sheep are just not very clever. They wander off; they chew grass without a care of where they are headed – even off a cliff. 

            The imagery of sheep is appropriate. As sheep, we do not inadvertently wander away; Isaiah very specifically says we are guilty of willfully straying from the shepherd. We wander through neglect, through distraction, through choosing our own way even when we know better. The parable of “The Lost Sheep” makes me reflect a lot on this. Jesus tells how the shepherd leaves the 99 to search for the one. Why is “the one” lost? That lamb wandered away. How does the shepherd hope to find a tiny lamb in a great wilderness? That lamb keeps wandering, following its appetites, until it is caught in some inescapable situation. Then it cries out. That’s the only way the shepherd could find it. 

            Jesus likens himself to the shepherd who does the searching. But in other teachings, Jesus is the Lamb who was slain and by his blood we are forgiven, cleansed, and made whole (Rev. 5:9-10). 

            Paul reflected on this too saying, “For what the law was powerless to do in that it was weakened by the sinful nature, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful man to be a sin offering,” (Rom. 8:3). Jesus took our place as the sheep, the goat, the substitute.

 

As I was praying recently, I began to meditate on what figure of authority most impacted me. I rejected political figures, prime ministers, presidents, and kings. I mean, who do you want to please most in life? Who do you seek affirmation from more than any other person? 

            It occurred to me that teachers have been that figure of authority in my life. In yours it may be a boss, a spouse, or people in general (if you are a people-pleaser). For me it has always been teachers. To please my teachers was a priority. Do the lessons. Get good grades. Demonstrate that I was learning. I didn’t always get an A; if I scored in the 80s and 90s, I was content. I never received a perfect mark of A+ or 100%. My goal was not to be the teacher’s best friend, only to impress him or her that I was capable. 

            If God is my teacher, nothing less than 100%, an A+, is required. But you and I cannot hand in that perfect paper. Our work is not good enough. Only Jesus can.

            Jesus does not merely improve your grade. He takes your failing paper, signs his own name to it, and hands you his perfect obedience as a gift. He substitutes his work for yours so that you can pass the course. Jesus will take your failure and suffer the consequences in your place.

            That’s the cross of substitution. If you are still trying to pass on your own work, lay it down. The substitute has already done the work for you. The substitute has taken your pain, your punishment, and your place.

 

                                                AMEN

            

Being Content in a World of "More" ("Ode to Joy" Series on Philippians)

BEING CONTENT IN A WORLD OF “MORE”

 

Never before in the history of humankind has a people had access to so much. We have plenty of everything: food, material things, wealth in general. And yet satisfaction and contentment are rare. Something new is always supplanting the device we already have with new features. 

            There is a Greek myth that illustrates this tension of having but wanting more. Tantalus, a friend of the gods, commits a heinous crime, and as punishment he is forced to stand waist deep in a pool of water in the underworld for all eternity. Above him is a fruit tree with ripe fruit easily within reach. Yet whenever he reaches up his hand to grab the fruit, the tree branch raises up as well just out of his reach. And whenever he bends down to scoop some water to drink, the water recedes away. He is left forever tantalized by what is just out of reach. 

            Just out of reach. A little more. A little more and I would be happy. A little more what? A little more money? A little more recognition? A little more house? Then will you be content? Is happiness just out of reach? 

            Are you aware of the extent to which your joy and contentment in life are tied to what you have or the circumstances of your life? 

            If I’m honest, I’m not always aware.

            Most people are not aware and don’t want to be aware. Doesn’t matter if you are Christian or not, we are often oblivious to the effect of our circumstances on our joy. We might be embarrassed if we connected the dots between where we are in life and how we feel about life. If we did become aware of this connection, we would be challenged to make changes in our lives. Changes we don’t want to make. 

            Are you content with your life? On the one hand, we should be content with who we are and what we have. On the other hand, we should never be satisfied in our journey to know Jesus better. Paul teaches us that the two are connected.

1. Thanks, but no thanks (4:10; 14-18)

 

Paul’s letter to the Philippians is really one long “thank you” note. It’s taken till the end of the letter for Paul to get there, but he did want to thank this church for the financial gift that they sent to him. 

            Paul “rejoiced in the Lord greatly” that they were able to show their concern for him. Something seems to have prevented them from doing so: a lack of funds perhaps, no way to send it…who knows? But he’s glad that they could show concern for him. 

            That “joy,” Paul says, is more about them than it is about him. Their concern (mentioned 2x in v. 10) is linked to the word “partnership” in v. 15. The Philippian believers had a vested interest in Paul’s ministry, they were concerned that the gospel be preached, because they were committed partners with Paul in the ministry (14-15). So, his joy is rooted in their faith being expressed in action and concern. In other words: “I’m glad for your sake.” 

            But then Paul says something strange: “I don’t really need the gift.” He says literally, “Not that I am speaking of being in need…” (11a) and “Not that I seek the gift…” (17a). Isn’t Paul in need? He is in prison and prisons were not nice places. The food was barely edible and the conditions were deplorable. Yet Paul says, “I don’t need anything.” Or at least, he doesn’t need things in the way we typically need things. He needed things; he’s not on a hunger strike or radically denying himself. Paul is suffering and has needs.

            Suffering, however, changes the way we think about needs. It gives us a perspective on what we really need. When your child is ill or a relationship fails, priorities change and needs become more acute, more refined. You don’t need a bigger house when you need healing from cancer. 

            In the midst of Paul’s suffering, he experienced the Lord’s sustaining presence. He grew more confident of what the Lord could do in the absence of friends or supply. Paul was grateful for the money, but even if they didn’t send it…

2. I have Learned to be Content (11)

 

Paul said that he didn’t really have needs because, “…I have learned, in whatever situation I am, to be content.” 

            To be “content” may have triggered the Philippians to think of the stoic philosophers. They were known for their self-denial. They were committed to eliminating all external dependence, to detach from all physical needs, and to live without help from anyone. One of these stoics saw a child drinking with her hands and threw away his cup so not to be outdone by a child. Weird stuff!

            Is that Paul’s idea of contentment? No, of course not. It is tied more closely to his comment to the Corinthians, “Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God,” (2 Cor. 3:5). The key is not self-denial for the sake of some appearance of holiness, it is trust in God. God is the key to contentment. It is not fatalism or laziness – it is a rejection of our natural self-sufficiency and independence. 

            Jeremiah Burroughs, in his book The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment, wrote, “My brethren, the reason why you do not have contentment in the things of the world is not that you do not have enough of them. The reason is that they are not things proportional to that immortal soul of yours that is capable of God Himself.” 

            I love that! We cheat ourselves of what is truly fulfilling in life by trying to satisfy our longings with temporary pleasures. We cheat ourselves of God. 

            Joni Eareckson Tada, who has lived a paralyzed life for decades, commented on “contentment” saying: “For me, true contentment on earth means asking less of this life because more is coming in the next. Godly contentment is great gain. Heavenly gain. Because God has created the appetites in your heart, it stands to reason that he must be the consummation of that hunger. Yes, heaven will galvanize your heart if you focus your faith not on a place of glittery mansions, but on a person, Jesus, who makes heaven a home.” The only way you can learn contentment is by finding Jesus to be enough. 

 

3. Learning the Secret of Contentment (12)

 

Contentment cannot be achieved in a day. It is something to be learned over time. That’s what Paul says, “I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need,” (12). 

            Contentment is not natural to our minds. We aren’t born content. We have to learn it since we are born discontent and dissatisfied. As Sam Storms noted, to learn this lesson we must experience life and its ups and downs. Note that Paul said that he learned to be content even in abundance. As a child starts out in school learning her ABCs, then learning to read and to write and eventually to research difficult subjects, we also need to grow, mature, move from one stage to the next until we find Jesus to be sufficiently beautiful, powerful, and sweet so that even in the face of great loss, the loss of everything hardly registers on our hearts.

            How do we cultivate contentment like Paul’s in our own hearts? 

First, we must believe that God is a good, caring Father. Burroughs again wrote, “Christian contentment is that sweet, inward, quiet, gracious frame of spirit, which freely submits to and delights in God’s wise and fatherly disposal in every condition.” Contentment is knowing that God is with us in all situations, good and bad.

Second, contentment is a gift from God. And we must ask for it. Jesus Christ died to make us holy and holiness includes contentment. To be content is to yearn after Jesus and receive what his blood has purchased for us. 

Third, we must learn to practice self-denial in a world of more. Our culture is all about self-indulgence. Get as much as you can. Enjoy as much as you can. But the Christian life is a life of intentional denial of self for the sake of the gospel. We don’t deny ourselves because something is bad, but sometimes “good things” distract us from the love of God in Christ. 

            Truly, the only way you can learn to be content is by finding Jesus Christ to be enough. Paul wrote earlier in Philippians, “…whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ…I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord…” (3:7-8).

 

4. I can do all things? (13; 19-20)

 

This provides the context for us to understand what Paul says next. Lest we misunderstand this popular verse and I begin to sing a solo for you because I can do all things, let’s pause.

            Paul has just said he could face hunger, deprivation, and extreme need because he has Jesus. He has learned contentment in those situations. So, what has he learned? What is his secret? That it is through an intimate relationship with Jesus who gives him strength that he can do all things and face all things. 

            He has in mind the beauty and glory of Jesus, the wonder of his saving work on the cross, the power and energy of his resurrection life, the consistency and constancy of his intercession on our behalf, and the hope and expectation of his second coming. In that frame of mind, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” 

            A small boy was trying to lift a heavy stone but could not budge it. His father saw this, stopped to watch, and finally said to his son, “Are you using all your strength?” “Yes, I am,” the boy cried. “No,” the father said calmly, “You’re not. You haven’t asked me to help you.” 

            We can say, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,” but if you are like me, you forget to ask for that strength. My nephew’s son used to say, “Me do it!” But he clearly needed help. 

            What do we need help with? The ability to remain free of bitterness and envy and mistrust when circumstances take a turn for the worst. The ability to resist comparing my stuff with the stuff others have. The ability to rejoice in the Lord when life is one trouble after another. In all things, Jesus gives me the strength to be content in him when all the world falls away from me. 

            “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though it waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling,” (Ps. 46: 1-3).

 

What does true contentment look like?

            It looks like a heart of peace. Remember the peace of Christ that guards your hearts and minds in 4:7? He gives us the ability to be content in the middle of the storm.

            It looks like a heart full of grace. When we are content, we are able to see and enjoy God’s grace in our lives. We have the vision to see the smallest gifts from God. And as we freely receive in grace, we are able to freely give. We have open hands because we do not cling to our “stuff.” 

            It looks like a heart ready to submit. When we are more firmly rooted in God’s presence – knowing he is with us and never abandons us – we are set free from our anxieties and can give up worldly pursuits to rest fully in the love of God. Then anything can happen because I have Jesus.

            It looks like a heart flowing with worship. The greatest gift of true contentment is sincere worship. We receive all things from life with thankfulness to God for the good and always patient through the difficult. We can say with Joseph, what was meant for evil, God meant for good. 

            We close with a challenge: Answer this…

            I will be content in life if only __________. 

            I can experience genuine and lasting fulfillment in my life when I have ______________. 

            Life is worth living if and only if ____________.

            What would you write in those blanks? How would you respond? 

            My prayer for you and for me is that we fill in the blank saying: I will be content in life if only I have Jesus. I can experience genuine and lasting fulfillment in my life when I have Jesus. Life is worth living if and only if I have Jesus.

 

                                                                        AMEN

 

Credits: I read and adapted some of this material from the following writers

Sam Storms, sermon “Independence through Dependence on Christ” Samstorms.org

Andrew Hess, “How to Find True Contentment” Boundless.org January 30, 2023

Marc J. Sims, “The Secret of Contentment” marcjsims.com