“Come to me, and I will give you ____.”

Finish this statement by Jesus: Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you _______.

Chances are pretty good you know the last word there is rest. Here’s the thing I was thinking about today, though, when I read that verse. How many of us, even if we know that Jesus said rest at the end of that sentence, walk around with the subconscious belief that he instead said something like trouble, or pain, or punishment?

Far too many of us.

Now, we might not walk around with that subconscious belief all the time—it may come and go depending on where are lives are at—but the fact that it is there at all is a troubling reality and experience. I mean, for one, Jesus didn’t say that, so that’s a problem right there. But, even more than that, Jesus said the opposite of what we walk around at times subconsciously believing he said.

I love running and lifting weights. There are a lot of differences between the two activities, but there’s one thing they have in common, at least when I’m doing them. I love the moments where I can rest after a run or after a set of weight lifting. I think about those rests as I’m running and lifting. Two more miles, one more mile, five more reps, one more rep… then rest. My running slows to a walk, my hands go to my knees or above my head, and I get a chance to catch my breath. After the last rep of dumbbell presses I let the weights fall to my sides and hit the ground, and I catch my breath.

How awful would it be after a long run to get to the end and have no relief? Or how awful would it be to finish a set of squats, rack the weight, but still feel like it’s on your shoulders? I can tell you the for me, it would be enough to stop running and lifting. I think it’s why it’s no surprise that we feel like throwing in the towel in our lives every now and then. We can fool ourselves into believing that there’s no rest waiting for us if we come to Jesus. If we come to him he will give us nothing but more trouble, more pain, and he may even punish us. In other words, Jesus is just going to add to the weight that we’ve already been carrying around for far too long.

The good news is, this is wrong. We are wrong if we believe that Jesus said something opposite of what he really said. He didn’t tell those around him to come to him so he could make their lives worse. He told them to come to him if they wanted to rest. I know me, and even if I don’t know you I know that you like to have times to rest just like I do. The bummer is here we have Jesus offering exactly what we want and need, and yet so many times we choose not to come to him and forsake the rest he has for us.

The other bit of good news is that even if we’ve done that—ignored the offer of rest because we don’t believe him—we don’t have to go on doing it. Today might be the day for rest for you.

Stop running. Stop lifting. Come to Jesus. And rest.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30, NIV)

Bored With the Christmas Story

The Christmas story we’ll tell and celebrate this week is the same story that’s been told for the past two-thousand years. Nothing has changed about it. And because nothing has changed, there’s an inherent danger presented to us—boredom.

You might be bored with that story right now. Even thinking ahead to going to a church service, listening to the same songs, hearing the same passage or passages of Scripture being read might be enough to make you wish you could just fast-forward through all that same old, same old.

But you don’t have to be bored with it, if you don’t want to. You can resist the boredom by reminding yourself of the actual story. This isn’t a rebellion against the Christmas or anything like that—I think we’re still free to enjoy all that fun. It’s a chance to remember where we came from and why Christmas has any meaning for us at all.

For thousands of years, God’s people had been struggling as they followed him. The struggle didn’t start with Moses, and it didn’t start with Abraham. Adam and Eve found that they struggled in the garden. This pattern continued through Abraham, through Moses, into the judges, kings, and prophets. God’s people had a hard time finding a consistent footing as they tried to follow keep in step with him.

The result was exile. First, a spiritual one, then a physical exile.

While reflecting on the human condition, the prophet Jeremiah said that, “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure” (Jeremiah 17:9, NIV). The teacher in Ecclesiastes said that, “The hearts of people, moreover, are full of evil and there is madness in their hearts while they live” (Ecclesiastes 9:3, NIV). The prophet Isaiah, speaking a word of condemnation and warning over God’s people, made clear their fate if they continued in their folly as he said, “ ‘Be ever hearing, but never understanding; be ever seeing, but never perceiving.’ Make the heart of this people calloused; make their ears dull and close their eyes” (Isaiah 6:9-10, NIV).

If this wasn’t enough, God’s people continually found themselves “outside” of where and what they were made for. First, Adam and Eve were removed from the garden and prevented from returning. Next the new people of God were in slavery for 400-years in Egypt. Next, they were unable to find the promised land as they wandered the wilderness. Next, because of Moses’s disobedience—and the disobedience of an entire generation of Israelites—they were unable to finally enter the newly found promised land. From there, their exile continued as God’s people found themselves under judges and kings who treated them poorly, resulting in another exile, this time to Babylon.

Within this struggle, though, there was a hope laid out for God’s people. A hope that he would make all things new. A hope that this pattern of exile would finally end. Long before the apostle John wrote Revelation, the prophet Isaiah talked about a new heavens and a new earth. 2 Chronicles and the prophet Malachi both shared a similar hope of God doing something that he hadn’t done before—perhaps arriving to rule and reign as the true king.

After the last words of the Old Testament there were many, many years where the people waited. They knew what had been promised, and they held out hope for the promise, but it wasn’t always easy. They grew restless. They started to wonder if God was really going to do what he said he was going to do. Generation after generation would pass down this hope, reminding those who came after of what was promised. And then something miraculous happened.

Paul tells it like this:

Who [Jesus], being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross!

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Philippians 2:6-11, NIV)

God stepped into this world in a way he had never done before. In the ancient past God was just a little bit removed from his people. Sure, he was walking with Adam and Eve in the garden, and he was going before them in the exodus, and he was present in the temple, and the prophets were his mouthpiece, but he was still unapproachable in some real sense. That is, until, he made himself nothing. God—the one uncreated being in the entire universe—became like those he created—you and me. He became a human being in the person of Jesus. He became what he was not, so you and I could be finally be what we were created to be—fully human.

Not only that, but as a human being he humbled himself—even to the point of death on a cross. God, himself, not only willingly stepped into humanity, but willingly stepped into death. Because of that he has been exalted above everyone and everything else. All honor and glory belongs to him.

This all happened because God became a human being. The cross, the resurrection, the ascension, the exaltation, the second coming, and the new heaven and new earth, are all a result of what happened on that first Christmas day.

How can we be bored with a story like that?

This story we’re a part of, this story that we get to tell and pass on to our kids, this story that makes everything else we believe in a reality is worth leaning into in a fresh way each year. We might be bored with doing the same things year after year, but let’s not confuse that with being bored about the God of the universe becoming a human being.

That was a miracle, and miracles are never boring.

Our Way In and Through the Bible

The regular habit of reading the Bible doesn’t sound strange to us, because it’s a part of who we are. But if we zoom out a little, and take stock of the fact that we regularly read a book made up of a coherent collection of writings, of which the newest is nearly 2,000-years old, we can start to see how this would seem strange to a lot of people.

How many of us have a close friend who regularly reads the writings of Homer? What about a friend who regularly reads the writings of Aristotle? How many of us know anyone who regularly reads the writings of Plato, Sophocles, Virgil, Plutarch, Euclid, or Xenophon? Unless some of us out there are friends with a history professor, I would say none of us know anyone who regularly read the writings of those folks. And yet, Christians all over the world—young and old—spend a lot of their lives reading a collection of writings that was written around the same time as some of those folks listed above put pen to paper.

Why do Christians spend so much time reading the Bible?

It's often said that the main reason someone accepts an invitation to church is because they know the person extending the invitation. It’s rare for someone to step into a church building on a Sunday morning out of the blue. It’s much more common for someone to get up early for church because they’re going to be sitting next to someone they know during the service. I would guess you and I came to our habit of reading the Bible in a similar way.

Not many of us started reading and enjoying the Bible because we saw it on a bookshelf in a store and thought it looked interesting, or because we were simply handed one and told we should read it. Most of us found our way to the Bible because of a person. Different from an invite to a church service, though, this person who has drawn us into reading the Bible is not our friend who likes reading the Bible; this person is someone from within the Bible itself. Most of us started reading and enjoying the Bible because of Jesus.

Imagine you wanted to get your friend, who isn’t a reader at all, to start reading the Bible. How would you do it?

You could start by telling him how interesting it is that we even have a Bible. You could explain the translation process by which we’ve come to be able to read these ancient Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek texts in understandable English. Or you could tell him about how you believe that somehow God, although using actual people, really wrote these words, so much so that you believe that when you’re reading the Bible you’re actually hearing from God himself. Or you could tell him about all the prophecies in the Bible that have come true, which help point to the overall trustworthiness of what the Bible has to say.

My guess, though, is that none of those options would work on any consistent basis. Those of us who have already bought-in to the Bible find those things interesting. We’re all in on the translation process, the miracle of inspiration, and on how prophecy after prophecy has been proven true. But those things don’t mean anything to someone who hasn’t already bought-in like us. No, if you wanted to get your friend, who isn’t a reader, to read the Bible you ought to tell him about the one person who makes reading the Bible worth it.

In a sort of backwards way from how the Bible is often presented, Jesus is the one by whom we come to the Bible. This could be confusing because the gospels don’t show up in the Bible until the last two-thirds of it. To put it another way, there are 39-books in the Bible before Matthew—the first gospel about Jesus—and I’m saying that it’s through this Jesus, in the 40th book of the Bible, that we have our reason for reading any of it.

With almost every other book ever written, we should start from page one and work forward. Not so with the Bible. Not so, at least from the Christian perspective. There is nothing wrong with beginning to read the Bible from Genesis, working through to the wisdom literature of Job, Psalms, and Proverbs, and then closing out with the prophets. I’m actually making my way through it in a similar way right now, and I assume some of you reading this have done something like that.

That’s just not how we usually come to the Bible.

We come to the Bible through hearing about the life of Jesus—the things he said, the things he did, the trouble he got into, the grace he extended to those around him, the genius he displayed while others were trying to trap him in what he taught, and the way he willingly gave up his own life for the world. Jesus is the one who captivates people like you and me. And he is the one who motivates us to open up this book from thousands of years ago. Remove Jesus—the one who drew us to the Bible—from our relationship to the Bible, and most of us wouldn’t care what it has to say anymore.  

There are a few people who read Plato and Sophocles because they think they folks like them helped change the world in some small but important ways. Christians read the Bible because we believe Jesus changed the world in ways we can’t even imagine right now. And, through his changing the world, we can have changed lives, as well. When it comes down to it, that’s why most Christians read the Bible.

The stories of creation, the exodus, the great back and forth between the kings and judges, the incredible wisdom of folks like Solomon, and the surprising pronouncements of the prophets, are worth reading for their own sake. They tell an exciting story, but Christians believe that story they’re telling only finds its real meaning in as much as it finds its home in Jesus.

As the writer of Hebrews says, “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things” (Heb 1:1-2, ESV). The final biblical revelation of who God is and who we are in relation to him and the world is Jesus.

He is our way in, and our way through the Bible.

Jesus Was (And Is) a Real Human Being

Theological disputes are not something unique to our time, or even the time of our ancient relatives.

Reaching all the way back to the first century we can find disagreements about important theological matters. Jesus had his arguments with the Pharisees and Sadducees, not to mention those with the religious leaders of his day. Paul had to deal with controversies with church members as they were still learning what it meant to live in this new kingdom with its new covenant. And John felt pushback from those who insisted that although Jesus may have been God (there were definitely some who thought he wasn’t), he surely wasn’t a human being.

And so, one of the main motivations for John writing what we call “1 John” was to remind those early believers of what had been true and what they had been taught since the beginning. Namely, that this Jesus—whom they rightly worshipped as their Lord and God—was a real human being.

“That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life. The life appeared; we have seen it and testify to it, and we proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and has appeared to us. We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ. We write this to make our joy complete.” (1 Jn 1:1-4, NIV)

John hits all the markers here for an accurate eyewitness account. That…which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched. Seeing, hearing, and touching.

In other words, John was reminding those early believers that people had really come into contact with the human being called Jesus—John himself being one of those early eyewitnesses! Their experiences were not dreams, nor were they delusions. They, instead, were real encounters where they saw him heal another person, they saw him walking down the road, they listened to him teach to the masses, and have private conversations with individuals. And not only that, but they placed their hands on him. They even had times where they placed their hands on him.

To be sure, people of John’s day believed in ghosts. Not so different from us, today. Jesus, though, was no ghost, or phantom, or apparition. In fact, on more than one occasion Jesus’s disciples thought he was a ghost. During one of those times they were in a boat in dangerously choppy water, and they saw someone coming at them, walking on the water. Their first inclination was that this someone was a ghost, and they were naturally terrified. It wasn’t until he spoke to them that they realized this someone was no ghost, but Jesus in the flesh. (Mt 14:16-26)

We cannot separate out or compartmentalize Jesus deity from his humanity. Jesus was not and is not some part God and some part human. He was and is one individual. And this one individual was and is God and man.

John wanted his readers then and us today to remember that. The world’s views will no doubt change over time—as they already have. We’re called to hold on to what was witnessed and taught from the beginning. And what was taught was that Jesus was a real human being.

Why Jesus Taught in Parables

Parables, by their very nature, are not easy to understand… at least, not at first.

A parable is a unique type of story designed to promote observation, meditation, and action. A parable that does not invite this sort of deep thinking and eventual active response to the meaning contained within the story is not a parable after all. Although parables are challenging to understand, they are not impossible to understand. In fact, Jesus told his parables expecting his hearers to understand after they had reflected deeply enough on it. We can see this point made in two particular places within Matthew and Mark. We’ll look at Mark first.

After Jesus tells his parable about a very small seed that becomes a very large tree, Mark gives us some insight into Jesus’s motivation with his parables. “With many similar parables Jesus spoke the word to them, as much as they could understand” (Mk 4:33, NIV). Interesting, huh?

We can sometimes get into the habit of thinking that Jesus told parables with one motivation in mind—to keep his hearers from understanding. But it’s not that simple. One of the results of the parables is that some do not hear and thus do not understand. Another is that some folks do hear and understand because of the nature of the parables. Jesus wanted people to hear and understand his message about the kingdom of God and their place in it. So he told parables in pursuit of this goal, all the while knowing that there would be some who closed their ears (and eyes) to the message he was announcing. Even though Jesus knew and made it clear that there would be plenty of people who refused to listen to what he was saying, we must not suppose that Jesus’s sole motivation in speaking in parables was to keep people from understanding what he meant.

If Jesus wanted to he could have made it impossible for anyone to understand anything he was saying (Jn 3:12). But he didn’t do that. On the contrary, he told stories his hearers could understand. He talked about farmers, and land, and seed, and families, and houses, and money, and weddings, and kings. Things the people of his day were immediately and intimately aware of. And the things that in our day are pretty well known, too.

Matthew is quite helpful here as he reaches back to the psalms to explain why Jesus taught like this. He writes, “So was fulfilled what was spoken through the prophet: ‘I will open my mouth in parables, I will utter things hidden from the creation of the world’ ” (Mt 13:35, NIV). If we thought Jesus’s only goal with parables was that things would remain hidden forever, Matthew helpfully corrects us.

According to him, Jesus told parables because there were things hidden for a long time that he was now making known to the world. Jesus wanted people to know these realities that could only be expressed in stories that invited its hearers to reflect and wonder—so he told parables. Stories that require us to think and meditate on what was said. Stories that offer to show us things we haven’t seen before. We’re able to do this because that’s what parables do, and that’s why Jesus told them.

Did Jesus Only Teach in Parables?

I was listening to a podcast on Jesus’s parables and, as the host introduced the episode by giving a quick rundown of what was going to be discussed—as all good hosts do—he said something that caught my ear. While setting up the importance of Jesus’s parables he referenced a place in Mark’s gospel where the evangelist writes about Jesus’s teaching style and this host said, “It even says specifically that when Jesus taught the masses…he taught exclusively in parables.”

Really? Did Jesus only teach in parables? It seems like there were plenty of places throughout the gospels (John included, which doesn’t have any “parables”) where what is recorded isn’t a parable. Think of the Sermon on the Mount, or the Olivet Discourse, or the famous extended teaching and prayer in John 14-17. Whatever those are, they are different from: “A farmer went out to sow his seed.” So, where did the host get this idea?

If we look at the text in question—Mark 4:33-34 (also, see the parallel in Matthew 13:34)—we can see quickly where this idea comes from. The text reads, “With many similar parables Jesus spoke the word to them, as much as they could understand. He did not say anything to them without using a parable. But when he was alone with his own disciples, he explained everything” (Mk 4:33-34, NIV). Even if I didn’t bold that sentence you would see it right away.

I’ll confess that for a long time I was in lock-step agreement with the host because it seemed to be saying right there in Mark (and Matthew) that Jesus only used parables. But is that what Mark was actually saying? After a closer look, I think we must say, no.

Mark isn’t telling us that Jesus exclusively taught in parables—that’s obvious from looking at other places in the gospels where a teaching is recorded and it’s not a parable—instead, Mark is telling us that parables were Jesus’s main way of teaching to the crowds (and, sometimes, just the disciples). In fact, he valued this parabolic way of teaching so much that every time Jesus taught the crowds, he would use parables.

This makes sense of those places where a parable might not be recorded. This isn’t a contradiction in the text; it simply illustrates the selection process of the gospel writers. They (other than John) included lots of parables, but there were most certainly times when Jesus was teaching when he used a parable, and they didn’t record it. Perhaps because he had already told that parable, or they decided to leave it out for another reason.

The fact remains, though, that Jesus loved teaching in parables. Did he only teach in parables? No. But it seems to be that he never taught without them.

What I Have Learned Teaching My Daughter About Jesus

A friend asked me what I have learned from teaching my daughter about Jesus. However,  I could not come up with an answer. After thinking about it for some time, I realized that I do not teach my little girl about Jesus. If I want her to know her Savior, I have learned that I have to show my child who Jesus is. I can teach blind people about colors. Yet, they will never be reminded of the hope of the promise given in the rainbow (Genesis 9:13-16). I can teach deaf people about bird songs. Yet, they will never join the chickadee's melodic "thank-yous" to glorify our Maker. In the same way, we are all blind and deaf when it comes to knowing about Jesus. Knowledge is not enough. If my daughter is going to have a relationship with Jesus, she must first meet Jesus, then get to know him and finally learn to love him.

To illustrate, I have an identical twin sister that lived in Texas. I told my daughter all about my sister. I explained what a twin was. Additionally, my little girl even saw photos and got to talk to my sister on the phone. Yet, the look on my little one's face when she saw my twin for the first time was priceless! Likewise, teaching my daughter about Jesus is not the same as introducing Jesus to my child. Just like John the Baptist exclaimed in John 1:29, "Behold! The Lamb of God!" I have the privilege to introduce my daughter to her Savior. No amount of talking about him is going to help my girl meet Jesus, who wants to be part of my daughter's daily life.

Because Jesus is a part of my daughter's daily life, she can get to know her Savior in a personal way. In John 10:14 and 16, Jesus calls himself the Good Shepherd. Jesus said his sheep know him and listen to his voice. Granted, I can tell my child that Jesus loves her. However, if I reveal to her the ways he is loving her, my little one will come to know his love. Also, I can simply tell my daughter that Jesus talks to her, or I can show her when her Shepherd is speaking to her, and then my little girl will learn the sound of Jesus' voice.

Consequently, when my daughter has met her Savior and understands Jesus' love for her, my child can then learn how to start loving Jesus too. For example, an old adage states, "Give a man a fish, and he eats for a day; show a man how to fish, and he will eat for a lifetime." Similarly, I want my daughter to know her Shepherd for a lifetime. In order to do that, I must show my little girl how she can love Jesus the way he loves her. My daughter's life with Jesus is like a lifelong journey. I can not simply point on a map and say, "go there." In order to truly help my little one follow her Shepherd, I must put the map away and walk with her.

As I near the close, I would like to share with you a story. Not long ago, I struggled to teach my daughter the concept of 'trust.' I offered her many descriptions and examples. I told my little one stories about trust, hoping that would help her understand; but, she just could not grasp the concept. Finally, I decided a practical example might do the trick. We performed the Trust Fall together. From that experience, it was easier for my child to understand the nature of trust.

After all, at its core, isn't a relationship with Jesus similar to the Trust Fall? We metaphorically fall into the great arms of our Savior knowing he will catch us. As a result, I have learned that no amount of discussion will help my little girl know Jesus. I must join her as we fall into his arms together; a demonstration that I look forward to repeating every day, for as long as I can. Just as Jesus does for me.

Exploring the Bible 2023!

We don't talk about covenants much in our day-to-day lives, but they are integral for understanding the biblical storyline and what part of that story you and I find ourselves.

In this year's Exploring the Bible seminar, we'll be working our way through the Bible to get a good handle on the covenants contained therein, and to settle for ourselves what it means for us to be firmly planted within the New Covenant. Because, if we think we belong to a covenant that doesn't belong to us, then life gets more complicated than it needs to be.

If you have the time, I’d love for you to join me by signing up here.

ETB 2023 Seminar Agenda

• October 6 (6:60p - 7:15p): The Covenants: God’s Agreements with Human Beings

• October 6 (7:15p - 8:30p): If You Will, Then I Will: The Mosaic Covenant

• October 7 (9:00a - 9:45a): I Will Make A New Covenant: The Beginning of the End

• October 7 (9:45a - 10:30a): I Have Come to Fulfill: Jesus and the New Covenant

• October 7 (10:30a - 11:15a): He Has Made the First One Obsolete: The Supremacy of the New Covenant

• October 7 (11:15a - 12:00p): How Should We Then Live?

Who Will Save Us?

A MIRACLE ON THE HUDSON

The movie, Sully, is about the real life event of when Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger safely landed a commercial aircraft on the Hudson River after losing both engines from a bird strike shortly after takeoff. Throughout the movie the NTSB (the National Transportation Safety Board) had been investigating the water landing to determine if Sully had actually made a mistake by going for the Hudson when he could have—and, as they thought, should have—headed for a nearby airport. They run simulations, look at the black box data, and speak with scientists who are experts in birds.

At the end of the movie, it becomes obvious to everyone involved—including the NTSB—that the right decision was made, and it was only because of that decision that everyone on the aircraft was saved. In all of their research into what happened and how it could have been resolved—in other words, their focus on finding the how—they missed the most important detail—the who.

This is summed up beautifully in a statement made at the end of the movie. One of the NTSB officials says to Sully, “I can say with absolute confidence that after speaking with the rest of the flight crew, with bird experts, aviation engineers, after running through every scenario, after interviewing each player, there is still an ‘X’ in this result. And it’s you, Captain Sullenberger. Remove you from the equation and the math just fails.”

Sometimes the who is more important than the how.

THE SON OF MAN CAME TO SAVE

In Luke 19:1-10 we’re told that Jesus entered Jericho but had in mind to keep moving through. Zacchaeus, who was not just a tax collector, but a chief tax collector—a very rich man—wanted to see for himself who this Jesus was, but he had a problem. You probably know what his problem was if you know the song. He was wee little man and couldn’t see over the crowd. So, what did he do? He, of course, ran on ahead of Jesus and climbed a tree to get a better look.

When Jesus caught up to Zacchaeus he said, “Come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” Zacchaeus got right down from that tree and welcomed Jesus gladly. The crowd, however, didn’t respond in the same way, because they couldn’t help but see that Jesus was not going to have dinner at just anyone’s house. He was going to be the guest of a sinner.

Zacchaeus, maybe even thinking along the same line for a moment said to Jesus, “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.” He knew this was a serious thing for Jesus to have called him from the tree and to have invited himself to his house. To which Jesus responded, “Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham.” Jesus wasn’t going to allow the crowd’s thinking (and perhaps Zacchaeus’s own thinking) to cloud what was happening before their very eyes.

Jesus continued—and this is where things get real for our discussion here—by saying, “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”

Sometimes the who is more important than the how.

JESUS IS SALVATION

The main reason the aircraft made a safe water landing was not because all the right decisions were made. It wasn’t even because the aircraft was built in such a way to allow that sort of landing to be possible. It was because of the person who flew that aircraft. In a similar way, it’s not mainly because of the cross that anyone is saved today. Nor is it mainly because of what was accomplished by the one who was placed upon the cross. Forgive me as I just took a second to make sure my hair wasn’t starting to stand on end. If anyone at any point in time was or is going to be saved, it was and is because of the one doing the saving—Jesus.

Notice what he specifically said to Zacchaeus. “Today salvation has come to this house” (Luke 19:9, NIV). Jesus not only identified himself as the one who is going to be accomplishing the saving work: “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10, NIV), he identified himself as salvation incarnate.

When anyone in Jesus’s day saw him walking around, it was as if they were watching salvation walk around. Everything that salvation was and is, was and is contained in Jesus. Said the other way, take Jesus out of salvation and salvation no longer exists. Remove him from the equation of salvation and the math doesn’t work.

Simeon, earlier in Luke’s Gospel, when he took the baby Jesus into his arms says it clearly: “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you may now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all nations: a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel.” (Luke 2:29-32, NIV)

Jesus and the Father Are One

Of all the things Jesus said to get himself in trouble with the religious leaders of his day (“Your sins are forgiven”, “Before Moses was, I am”, “The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath”, etc.) what he said in John 10:30 might have been the topper.

ἐγὼ καὶ ὁ πατὴρ ἕν ἐσμεν.
I and the Father, we are one.

It’s a ridiculous thing to say… unless it’s true.

It was blasphemy for anyone to say that they were equal with the Father. The Father is God for goodness sake. How could Jesus possibly think that he ought to be thought of, seen, talked to, and experienced on the same level as the Father?

Did Jesus really expect those of his day to see him as the embodiment of the One they worshipped—the incarnation of Yahweh?

“You believe in God; believe also in me” (Jn 14:1, NIV)

It seems so.