As I look at Jesus in the gospels, I find myself again and
again being captivated and challenged the remarkable conversations that he had
with all kinds of people. Think of the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well, for
example, and her fascination over Jesus’ offer of living water. Or how about
Jesus’ words with the wealthy young man who came to him earnestly seeking the
way to eternal life? Then there was the nighttime exchange with Nicodemus, who
only grew more and more confused as Jesus told him of his need to be born from
above.
There are at least a couple of conversations, however, that
the gospels do not let us in on—conversations that I would very much like to
have heard. One of them is the one that took place as the sun was setting on
that first Easter Day. It is in Luke’s gospel that we read of the two disciples
who were sadly trudging their way home from Jerusalem to Emmaus, a distance of
about seven miles. As they walked, a stranger came up and began to walk with
them. He asked them what was engaging them in such deep and agitated
discussion. When they informed him that it was about Jesus, who had been put to
death just days before and about whom there were now rumors that he had been
seen alive, he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to
believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the
Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” “Then,” Luke
continues, “beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them
the things about himself in all the Scriptures” (Luke 24:25-27).
Every time I read that passage (and it is one of my
favorites in all the Bible) I find myself asking with puzzlement and not a
little frustration, “What were those truths that the prophets declared?” “What
were ‘the things about himself’ in the Scriptures that Jesus interpreted to
them?”
The Cross
The same question crops up when we read this morning’s
passage from 1 Corinthians. What we have read this morning are the two earliest
written accounts of Jesus’ resurrection. Mark likely composed his gospel around
the year 65 AD.
But 1 Corinthians comes to us from a decade or more before that, around
55 AD—so
within less than a generation of the actual events that the gospels portray. There
we read the apostle Paul writing, “For I handed on to you as of first
importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in
accordance with the Scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised
on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures…”
Most of you will recognize Paul’s words from what we recite
Sunday by Sunday in the Nicene Creed: “He suffered death and was buried. On the
third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures.” It is highly
probable, that just as we recite the creed (many of us from memory), so Paul
too was reciting a formula that was already well known to his fellow believers
in Corinth. Aside from the events themselves, what is significant about that
statement is the repeated phrase “according to the Scriptures”—that both Jesus’
death on the cross and his resurrection from the grave were all laid out
centuries before in the pages of the Old Testament.
We can certainly see that in the case of Jesus’ death. The
sublime poetry of Isaiah 53 bears eloquent witness to it. Let me read it to you
from a contemporary Jewish translation:
He was despised, shunned by men,
A man of suffering, familiar with disease.
As one who hid his face from us,
He was despised, we held him of no account.
Yet it was our sickness that he was bearing,
Our suffering that he endured.
We accounted him plagued,
Smitten and afflicted by God;
But he was wounded because of our sins,
Crushed because of our iniquities.
He bore the chastisement that made us whole,
And by his bruises we are healed.[1]
A man of suffering, familiar with disease.
As one who hid his face from us,
He was despised, we held him of no account.
Yet it was our sickness that he was bearing,
Our suffering that he endured.
We accounted him plagued,
Smitten and afflicted by God;
But he was wounded because of our sins,
Crushed because of our iniquities.
He bore the chastisement that made us whole,
And by his bruises we are healed.[1]
Or think also of the plaintive cry of Psalm 22:
My God, my God, why have You abandoned me? …
All who see me mock me, they curl their lips, they shake their heads.
‘Let him commit himself to the Lord; let Him rescue him,
let Him save him, if he is pleased with Him.” …
My life ebbs away: all my bones are disjointed;
my heart is like wax, melting within me;
my vigor dries up like a shard; my tongue cleaves to my palate;
You commit me to the dust of death…
I take the count of all my bones while they look on and gloat.
They divide my clothes among themselves, casting lots for my garments…
All who see me mock me, they curl their lips, they shake their heads.
‘Let him commit himself to the Lord; let Him rescue him,
let Him save him, if he is pleased with Him.” …
My life ebbs away: all my bones are disjointed;
my heart is like wax, melting within me;
my vigor dries up like a shard; my tongue cleaves to my palate;
You commit me to the dust of death…
I take the count of all my bones while they look on and gloat.
They divide my clothes among themselves, casting lots for my garments…
We do not have time to examine the whole sacrificial system
of ancient Israel or the numerous other passages in the Psalms and the Prophets
that portend the cross. No, we have no difficulty in affirming with Paul and
the creed that “Christ died … in accordance with the Scriptures”.
The Grave
No, the challenge comes with the second half of the
statement, that “he was raised on the third day in accordance with the
Scriptures”. Where do we find this in the Old Testament? In actual fact, if you
look at the Old Testament, its perspective on death is bleak at best. By and
large for the writers and singers of the Old Testament death is the end of the
road. That message comes through loud and clear in verses such as these:
The dead do not praise the Lord, nor do any that go down
into silence. (Psalm 115:17)
In death there is no remembrance of
you; in the grave who can give you praise? (Psalm 6:5)
Do you work wonders for the dead? Do
the shades rise up to praise you? Is your steadfast love declared in the grave,
or your faithfulness in the place of destruction? Are your wonders known in the
darkness, or your saving help in the land of forgetfulness? (Psalm 88:10-12)
A living dog is better than a dead
lion. The living know that they will die, but the dead know nothing; they have
no more reward, and even the memory of them is lost. Whatever your hand finds
to do, do with your might; for there is no work or thought or knowledge or
wisdom in the grave, to which you are going. (Ecclesiastes 9:4,5,10)
You can see from passages like these (and there are plenty
more) that by and large the Old Testament’s perspective on death was grim
indeed. The best you might hope for after you died was to be fondly remembered
by your descendants and perhaps in some sense live on in them. This was the
position held by the Sadducees in Jesus’ day. More than once they are described
as “those who say there is no resurrection”. And they held that position not
because they were agnostics or trying to be radical, but because they believed
that were being true to the witness of the Scriptures.
The Resurrection
How then, if this was the case, could Paul and the
Corinthians confidently profess that Jesus “was raised on the third day in
accordance with the Scriptures”? What did Jesus share as he walked along the
road to Emmaus with those two disciples? To find the answer we need to take our
Old Testaments once again; and if we read them carefully we will begin to see
amidst the gloom and the darkness some tiny pinpricks of light.
Beneath the sadness of the Psalms surrounding death for
example, there is a quiet but unflagging confidence that what we see from this
side of the grave is not the whole picture, that there is more.
My heart is glad, and my soul rejoices; my body also rests
secure. For you do not give me up to the realm of the dead, or let your
faithful one see the Pit. You show me the path of life. In your presence there
is fullness of joy; in your right hand are pleasures forevermore. (Psalm
16:9-11)
I am continually with you; you hold
my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me
with honor. Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I
desire other than you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength
of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:23-26)
Those few tiny hints, that almost imperceptible adumbration,
that we find in the Psalms, begins to become a rising chorus as we move into
the prophets. From Isaiah we read,
The Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich
food… And he will destroy … the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet
that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever. (Isaiah
25:6-8a)
Your dead shall live, their corpses
shall rise. O dwellers in the dust, awake and sing for joy! For your dew is a
radiant dew, and the earth will give birth to those long dead. (Isaiah 26:19)
Then there are these words from Daniel:
Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall
awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.
Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who
lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever. (Daniel 12:2-3)
And perhaps clearest of all from Hosea we read,
Come, let us return to the Lord; for it is he who has torn,
and he will heal us; he has struck down, and he will bind us up. After two days
he will revive us; on the third day he will raise us up, that we may live
before him. Let us know, let us press on to know the Lord; his appearing is as
sure as the dawn; he will come to us like the showers, like the spring rains
that water the earth. (Hosea 6:1-3)
But to my own thinking, some of the most amazing words were
spoken by Job. In the midst of his unutterable suffering we find that beneath
all his self-pity there is an unshakeable conviction, which he expresses in
those profound and moving words,
I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will
stand upon the earth; and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then in my
flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold,
and not another. (Job 19:25-27)
Although those words came from deep within his heart and he could
hear them coming from his mouth, Job still found them almost impossible to
believe—too good to be true. “My heart faints within me!” he cried. It seems to
me that that was the same reaction of the two disciples in Emmaus. They stared
back and forth at each other across the dinner table and said to each other in
amazement, “Did not our hearts burn within us while … he opened the Scriptures
to us?” It was the reaction of the women who first came to the sepulcher that
morning. They ran from the tomb, seized by terror and amazement. The men
refused to believe them, accusing them of spreading idle tales. And then there
was Thomas, who would not believe until he had put his fingers into where the
nails had pierced Jesus’ hands.
Yet what they would discover was that suddenly with Jesus’
resurrection all those tiny points of light sprinkled through the Scriptures had
come together to form a single blazing sunrise lighting up the whole sky with
its brilliance. In a few moments’ time we will have an opportunity to affirm
once again our own faith that Jesus has risen. May it not be for us just a
matter of words. Rather, may it be with that same sense of amazement, of overwhelming,
as those who first heard the news.
“What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart
conceived, this God has prepared for those who love him.” “Thanks be to God,
who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 2:9;
15:57).
Alleluia! Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
No comments:
Post a Comment