Central to our
Christian faith is the conviction that our God is a God who speaks. The first
picture that the Bible gives us is one of chaos and emptiness. And into that
emptiness God speaks: “Let there be light.” And no sooner were those words
spoken than the Bible tells us there was light.
So it continues over
the six days of creation: “God said…”, “God said…”, “God said…” And each time we
hear the refrain, “And it was so.” “And it was so.” And it was so…”
Our psalm this morning
affirms that God’s voice, which brought everything that is into being—from the
farthest reaches of the universe to the tiniest subatomic particle—continues to
echo through his creation:
The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world…
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world…
The vastness of the night sky, the daily
warmth of the sun: these and a countless array of natural phenomena all work
together to reveal the God who is behind them. “Lord, our Lord,” we read
elsewhere in the Psalms, “how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have
set your glory in the heavens.” (Psalm
8:1)
John Polkinghorne, who enjoyed a long
career as a theoretical physicist at the University of Cambridge, would agree.
He has written,
The universe, in its rational beauty and
transparency, looks like a world shot through with signs of mind, and, maybe,
it’s the ‘capital M’ Mind of God we are seeing … an origin in the reason of the
Creator, who is the ground of all that is.[1]
If John Polkinghorne observed God’s
creation from a macro-level, Francis Collins has investigated it on a
micro-level. He is the geneticist who led the team that sequenced the human
genome. He has observed, “The God
of the Bible is also the God of the genome. He can be worshipped in the cathedral
or in the laboratory. His creation is majestic, awesome, intricate, and
beautiful.”[2]
Is it any wonder then that Jesus used the
things of nature to unfold the secrets of the ways of God? A mustard seed that
grows to be the largest of garden plants, a measure of yeast that is folded
into a lump of dough to make it rise, the buds on a fig tree announcing that
summer is near, a cloud rising in the west heralding rain, the lilies of the
field more beautifully arrayed than King Solomon in all his splendour…
Yet studying the phenomena of the natural
world can lead us only so far. Job acknowledged this way back in the Old
Testament. After reflecting on the remarkable works of God’s creation, he proclaimed,
These are but the outer
fringe of his works;
how faint the whisper we hear of him!
Who then can understand the thunder of his power?
(Job 26:14)
how faint the whisper we hear of him!
Who then can understand the thunder of his power?
(Job 26:14)
So, as we move into the latter half of
Psalm 19, we find that there is an additional, fuller, way in which God has
chosen to reveal himself, and that is through the words of Scripture:
The law of the Lord is perfect,
refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.
The precepts of the Lord are right,
giving joy to the heart.…
They are more precious than gold…
they are sweeter than honey…
in keeping them there is great reward.
refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.
The precepts of the Lord are right,
giving joy to the heart.…
They are more precious than gold…
they are sweeter than honey…
in keeping them there is great reward.
Classic Christian teaching has always
acknowledged that God addresses us both through his creation and through his
divine word. One of the basic formularies of the Christian Reformed Church is
the Belgic Confession, written in 1561. Here is what it says about the ways in
which God reveals himself:
We know God by two means: First, by the
creation, preservation, and government of the universe, since that universe is
before our eyes like a beautiful book in which all creatures, great and small,
are as letters to make us ponder the invisible things of God: God’s eternal
power and divinity… Second, God makes himself known to us more clearly by his
holy and divine word, as much as we need in this life, for God’s glory and for
our salvation.
Creator
All of which brings us to the opening
verses of the letter to Hebrews, from which we read these words a few moments
ago: “In many fragments and in
many fashions in the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets,”—and
here comes the critical word—“BUT in these last days he has spoken to us
through his Son.”
Yes, God reveals
himself through his creation. Yes, God has revealed himself through the words
of his prophets. But it is in Jesus that we find God’s fullest and final
revelation. Then the author (who is anonymous) goes on to list a series of astounding
claims as to why this is so—why we look to Jesus as God’s ultimate expression
of himself. I think we can summarize them under three headings.
The first is
“Creator”. Somewhere along the way, as they walked with Jesus (and I suspect it
was at a different point for each of them, or perhaps more accurately through a
whole series of experiences) those first companions of Jesus came to the
conclusion that this man, though made of flesh and blood as they were, was also
something more—considerably more. Dare I say, infinitely more?
We see it in the
gospels when Jesus asked them, “Who do people say I am?” The answers quickly
rolled out. “Some say John the Baptist,” said one. “Others say Elijah,” piped
up another. “And there are others who say you are Jeremiah or one of the
prophets,” added yet another. Then Jesus looked them in the eye. “But what
about you? Who do you say I am?” It’s not there in the gospels, but I always
imagine a long silence at this point, until Peter, who seems always to have
been the first to speak, blurted out, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the
living God.” (Matthew 16:13-16).
The events that
followed Jesus’ crucifixion only served to heighten and confirm this growing
conviction. “My Lord and my God!” were the astounded Thomas’ words as he gazed
on the wounds in Jesus’ hands and side (John
20:21). And as Jesus met with his followers for the final time, Matthew
tells us that they worshipped him (Matthew
28:17).
So it is that scarcely
a generation after all these events the apostle Paul could write to the
believers living in Colossæ,
He is the image of the invisible God, the
firstborn over all creation. For in him all things were created: things in
heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers
or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is
before all things, and in him all things hold together. (Colossians 1:15-17)
Radiance
We look to Jesus, then, as a participant
with the Father and the Holy Spirit in the creation. To add to this, the author
of Hebrews tells us that Jesus is “the radiance of God’s glory and the exact
representation of his being”. That word “radiance” is found only in this one
place in the New Testament. It is related to the word for dawn. So the picture
we are given is of the clear brightness of the morning sun with its spreading
rays gleaming over the eastern horizon, bringing light to a world that has been
shadowed in darkness.
Yet even that image fails to convey anything
like the fullness of the radiance that is found in Jesus. What we are talking
about here is nothing less than the shekinah
glory of God. It is what Moses witnessed as he stood before the burning bush.
The Bible tells us that he had to hide his face because he was afraid to look
at God (Exodus 3:6).
Many years later, as he met with God again on
the peak of Mount Sinai, Moses made a bold request—that God would show him his
glory. To this the Lord replied, “I
will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my
name, the Lord, in your presence.
I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom
I will have compassion. But, you cannot see my face, for no one may see me
and live.” (Exodus 33:18-20)
Such is the indescribable radiance of the
glory of God. And that is the radiance that we find in Jesus. “No one has ever seen God,” writes John in the
introduction to his gospel, “but the one and only Son, who is himself God, who
is closest to the Father’s heart, has made him known” (John 1:18).
Peter, James and John
caught a momentary glimpse of that radiance as they stood with Jesus on the
mount of the transfiguration. The gospels tell us that there Jesus’ face shone
like the sun and his clothes became dazzling white, as bright as a flash of
lightning.
The apostle Paul observed
that when Moses returned from God’s presence to meet with the people, the
change in his face was such that he had to cover it with a veil. “But,” Paul
adds, “whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away… And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate
the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing
glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:18). It is impossible to experience the
radiance of Jesus and not find ourselves being profoundly changed.
Sacrifice
The picture of Jesus that the letter to the
Hebrews gives us, then, is a glorious and exalted one: Jesus the mighty author
and sustainer of creation; Jesus, the pure radiance of God’s indescribable
glory. You might think there would be nothing left to say, but there is. And
that is this: that this same Jesus came into our world for one purpose—to bring
us purification from our sins.
Jesus, whose power brought galaxies into
being, emptied himself of all power to offer up his life for you and for me. Jesus,
whose radiance shines into eternity, willingly submitted to the ugly darkness
of the cross. As Graham Kendrick has put it in the words of his powerful hymn,
“hands that flung stars into space to cruel nails surrendered…”
This is the message that rings through the
entire thirteen chapters of the Letter to the Hebrews. Indeed it has been
described as the crimson thread that runs through the whole of the Bible. “I resolved to know nothing
while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” wrote the apostle
Paul to his fellow believers in Corinth (1
Corinthians 2:2). And again, to the Galatians, “May
I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the
world has been crucified to me, and I to the world” (Galatians 6:14).
One of the last pictures that the Bible gives us is of
a vast crowd of people—women and men and children beyond counting, from every
tribe and nation, race and language. They stand around the throne of the Lamb
of God and together their numberless voices thunder,
Salvation belongs to
our God,
who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb. (Revelation 7:10)
who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb. (Revelation 7:10)
Worthy is the Lamb,
who was slain,
to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength
and honour and glory and praise! (Revelation 5:12)
to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength
and honour and glory and praise! (Revelation 5:12)
From its opening words
to its last, the letter to the Hebrews is a call to worship, but not just the
formal worship that we offer here on Sunday mornings (although that is a vital
part of it). It is the worship of a heart overwhelmed with gratitude to the
Lord of all creation, who shines with the pure radiance of the uncreated God, and
who has trodden the road of pain and death, and by his sacrifice to claim for
himself the likes of you and me.
Love so amazing, so
divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
Demands my soul, my life, my all.