The true light, which enlightens all men, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God (John 1:9-13).

In the opening verses to his Gospel, the apostle John gives us some of the most well-known verses in Scripture. And though they are well-known by themselves, they point to a text that is even more well-known, namely the first verses of the Scriptures found in Genesis 1. And what I believe the apostle is doing in writing these verses is that he is giving us a commentary upon the Genesis 1 account of the Creation in light of the revealed Person of Jesus Christ. And I say commentary and not revelation, because what the apostle is saying is not something that is new, but it is something that is seen more clearly in Jesus Christ.

To explain what I mean, let’s consider the first verses of the Genesis account in light of John 1. In Genesis 1, Moses writes, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth” (Gen. 1:1). One thing I love about this text is the way by which the Holy Spirit had revealed it to Moses. For the phrase, “In the beginning” (which has been argued by non-Christian Jewish scholars before and after the coming of Christ), is a purposely ambiguous phrase in the Hebrew. For while it does convey the meaning of “In the beginning,” the same words are used later in the book of Genesis to refer to Jacob’s firstborn son, Reuben. These Jewish scholars, ironically, have shown that these first words in Genesis can be alternately rendered, “Through the Firstborn, God created the heavens and the earth.” Now, granting that is true and granting what the apostle Paul has written elsewhere concerning Jesus Christ, namely that he is the Firstborn of all creation, we have in the Genesis account precisely what the apostle John is saying in his Gospel, namely, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made” (John 1:1-3).

Furthermore, what is interesting is what the apostle John calls Jesus Christ in his preincarnate state, namely “the Word”. For when we consider how God created the heavens and earth, how did he do it? He spoke it into being. He used Words. (e.g. God said, let there be light, and there was light). Now does this mean that God said some magic words and that things magically popped into existence? Well considering John’s argument, I would say that is probably not a full understanding of what really happened. What is likely the proper understanding is that which can be seen in the Gospels, namely that God the Father decrees something and the Son carries out the will of the Father. And just as Jesus Christ when on this earth did everything in submission to the will of the Father, so too at the Creation the Father willed something to take place and the Son carried out his Father’s will. And so, when the Father willed that the universe and all that is in it be created, the Son, the Word, carried out the will of the Father, and thus through the Son all things were created.

The apostle goes on to say: “In him was life, and the life was the light of men.” In other words, in the Son–in Jesus Christ–everything that has life and being has it through him alone. The apostle Paul makes a more precise statement in his letter to the Colossians, writing: “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities–all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” “In Jesus Christ all things hold together” (Col. 1:15-17). In other words, if there is something that exists and maintains its existence, it is because Jesus Christ created it and holds its together. The apostle to the Hebrews says also, “Jesus is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds everything by the word of his power.”

Now, an interesting and geeky side-note concerning this reality, namely that Jesus Christ holds all things together by the Word of his Power is a theory in secular physics called the God Particle. Scientists have observed fascinating things at the molecular level, but the one thing that they cannot and have not figured out is why all these things hold together and do not fly out of control. Therefore, many have guessed that there is some yet undiscovered part of atoms (that which they call the God Particle) that has mass or weight, because mass (the same thing that causes gravity) is supposedly the force that holds all things together. And yet they have not found this particle. I doubt that they ever will find this supposed God Particle because this particle does not exist, because I believe what the apostle Paul says is true, namely that it is Jesus Christ (not some particle) who upholds everything by the Word of his Power, even every single atom in the Universe. That, brothers, is the greatness and the vastness and almightiness of the God we serve.

Therefore in this text, before John tells his account of the earthly life of Jesus Christ, he wants us to understand who Jesus is and who he has always been. Before he shows us that Jesus is the carpenter’s son, the man who turned water into wine, the man who beckoned children to come to him, and the man who died upon the cross, John wants us to know that this Jesus Christ is the God of the universe. And John wants us to know that Jesus is not a God who is like a watchmaker who created the world and spun it into self-existence, but he is the God who created all things and in him all things have life and existence, and, if he so pleased, he could let all things go and they would be annihilated into absolute nothingness. In him is life, and without him there is no life.

Now this life of which the apostle speaks, namely “In him was life, and the life was the light of men,” points to a life that is more than just purely existing. This life of which the apostle speaks is a life that is a light to men. Now, we know what the apostle is speaking of, and we’ll see that more clearly in our verses, that this life, this light of men, is what the apostle Paul calls in his second letter to the Corinthian church, “The light of the Gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God” (2Cor. 4:4). In other words, this life is not simply breathing, but it is coming to the Father as his friend and his child and not as his enemy. The apostle John writes later the words of Christ, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to Father except through me” (John 14:6). And so Jesus Christ, being the life that holds all things together by the Word of his power, is also the life that is the light of men whereby men come to Father as justified and not condemned.

Despite these positive statements about Jesus Christ, the apostle John highlights two problems that exist in the world in these verses. The first is seen in the need of the life which is the light of men. In other words, something happened in time that made it so that men needed a Light that would grant them life. We know well what that was, namely Adam eating the forbidden fruit of the tree and plummeting the whole human race into sin and darkness and to judgment. A second problem is seen in v. 5, namely that “The light shines in the darkness (i.e. the darkness of men’s hearts and understanding), and the darkness has not comprehended it, has not understood it, had not perceived it.” In other words, the light has existed and it has been shining into the darkness that was created by sin, yet the darkness, namely those who lived in darkness, did not see it or understand it. And it is in this context that we come to our verses tonight.

The true light, which enlightens all men, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God (John 1:9-13).

Now, this is a very deep and rich text, and so I am going to try to the best of my ability to unpack what the apostle through the Holy Spirit is saying in it. And because of its depth, we’re going to pay special attention to the different nouns and verb tenses that the apostle uses to compose it.

The apostle begins with what I believe is an introductory statement to this section. He begins saying, “The true light (which we know from v. 4 is the life of men, i.e. Jesus Christ and his Gospel) which enlightens all men, was coming into the world.” Now I believe it is an introductory statement because he clarifies everything that he is saying in this verse in the verses that follow. In the later verses, he clarifies what this “enlightenment” is, he clarifies what this “all men” is, and he clarifies what he means by saying that this light “was coming into the world.” Among these things, I think we can see from the text that the chief idea of this text is the nature of the enlightenment of this True Light, and everything else in the text hinges upon that enlightenment.

When we think upon the word “enlightenment” and what enlightenment is, we find that it has multiple meanings. First, enlightenment can have the idea an internal enlightenment, of a mental or spiritual type, whereby men understand things more clearly. What comes to mind is what we call the Age of Enlightenment which is called thus because it was supposedly a transition in human history from the Dark Ages of a lack of understanding to the Age of Science and Reason and Knowledge. Now, whether that is true or not in history can be debated, but that is one way which we understand the term. Another way is external enlightenment, like that of a light bulb enlightening a room, where light shines in and fills a room and has nothing to do with human perception. If a blind man were to walk into a room enlightened by a light bulb, the room would be no less enlightened simply because he could not perceive it. The light is there, he just does not have the ability to see it.

The apostle John, I believe uses both senses of this term, i.e. both external enlightenment and internal enlightenment. First, in these verses we see the external enlightenment of Jesus Christ. In v. 10, he writes, “He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him.” Now, to understand what the apostle is saying, I think it would be helpful to understand what he means by the terms that he uses. First, by using “world” I believe he is meaning to convey the notion of “all nations” or “Gentiles” because of the context here (“world” being set against “he came to his own people” in the next verse) and the way that John uses it in the rest of his Gospel. For example in John 3:16 which clearly parallels Psalm 2, the psalmist writes, “You are my Son, today I have begotten you, ask of me and I will give you the nations as your inheritance and the ends of the earth your possession … Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and you perish in the way, for his wrath is quickly kindled; blessed are all who take refuge in him,” and later the Pharisees say, “Look the world has gone after him,” when they see that even the Greeks are seeking Jesus.” So, what does it mean that he was (past tense) in the world before his incarnation and the peoples did not know him? Well, I think John is saying what the apostle Paul says in Romans 1, namely:

For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. For what can be known about God his plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes namely his eternal power and divine nature have been clearly perceived ever since the creation of the world in the things that have been made, so they are without excuse. For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in there thinking and there foolish hearts were darkened (Rm. 1:18-21).

In other words, the state of existence of all men is such that they know God and yet do not know God. For the way that sin has so corrupted the world makes it so that everyone who is born of the seed of Adam can perceive God in the things that have been created since Jesus Christ is stamped upon everything that has been made, and yet they do not know him and therefore rebel against him and their foolish hearts are darkened. As Charles Spurgeon has rightly said, “The same sun that melts the wax hardens the clay.” Those in the world think that they are wise, but in reality they are fools, and they exchange the glory of the immortal God for idols and are therefore hardened. For this reason, everyone is without excuse, for as the apostle writes later, “For all who have sinned without the law will also perish without the law, and all who have sinned under the law will be judged by the law.”

Now the problem that is in the world because of Adam’s transgression is so great and so pervasive that it not only covers the Gentiles in darkness, but it also covers the Jews. The apostle John writes in the next verse, “He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him.” So we see in the flow of the text that the apostle John is saying that the natural state of man in Adam is such that the Gentiles who saw Christ clearly in the creation did not see him, and even his own people, the Jews, to whom he had given the law through Moses did not receive him but rejected him. In Matthew’s Gospel, the apostle quotes Christ quoting Isaiah concerning the Jews, saying, “Seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear” (Mt. 13:13). In other words, though they had the law and, as Christ said, the law’s chief purpose was to testify about him, yet those who had the law, even the Pharisees who had memorized it, did not see or receive Christ. In other words, the law by itself can never save a soul. It’s for this reason that the apostle John writes a few verses later, “The law came through Moses, but grace and truth came through Jesus Christ” (John 1:17).

The apostle Paul in Romans addresses the same issue in chapter 3, considering the advantage that the Jew might have over the Gentile. His final conclusion is this: “What then? Are we Jews any better off? No, not at all, for we have already charged that all, both Jews and Greeks, are under sin. As it is written, ‘None is righteous, no not one. No one understands, no one seeks for God. All have turned aside, together they have become worthless. No one does good, not even one’” (Rm. 3:9-12). Now if this is the state of everyone, namely that none is righteous, no one understands, and no one seeks for God, then what hope is there for any man?

The hope is in Jesus Christ and the second form of enlightenment. For all have received the first form of enlightenment, the external form, whether in the created world or in the law, yet all that enlightenment is able to do is to condemn men, for as we have already seen in the Romans, “All who live apart from the law will also perish without the law, and all who have sinned under the law will be judged by the law” (Rm. 2:12). When it boils down to it, it is just as the apostle Paul says in the preceding verse, God shows no partiality between men (cf. Rm. 2:11).

Therefore the only hope that men have is not in the revelation in created things or in the law, but it is in the enlightenment of the Holy Spirit of God. We see this in the following verse. The apostle begins that verse, saying, “Now to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to be children of God.” The problem is, as we have already seen, is that the Gentiles did not know him and the Jews did not receive him, and, as the apostle Paul says, “No one understands, no one seeks for God.” So, then, what good is this declaration if no one, not even Jesus’ own people are going to receive him? The good comes in the latter part of the verse. He writes, “Who were born not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. Concerning this same matter, Jesus says to Nicodemus in John 3:8, “You must be born again (or, alternately translated, you must be born from above). The wind blows where it wills, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” In other words, the hope that there will be those who believe in Jesus, that there will be those in a world where there is darkness that does not comprehend Jesus Christ or receives him, is being born again, being given new life from God. And as John has said before, Jesus Christ gives life, and that life is the light of men.

And this being born of God, this impartation of new life, is not accomplished by blood, or by the will of the flesh, or by the will of man, but it is accomplished by the will of God. In other words, this understanding that gives us the ability to believe in Jesus and to receive him–we who were of those do not understand and who do not seek for God–is not accomplished by our bloodline or our genealogy, it is not accomplished by the works of our flesh, and it is not accomplished by our wills, but it accomplished by God and his will alone. The apostle Paul says this same thing in his letter to Romans, saying “Not all Israel is Israel” or in other words, not everyone who is of the physical bloodline of Abraham are God’s people, and later in that same chapter, “So then salvation depends not human will or exertion but on God who has mercy.” John the Baptist says the same thing to the Jews, “Do not presume to say to yourselves ‘We have Abraham as our father,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham” (Mt. 3:9).

When we think about it, how could salvation be any other way? For if what the Scriptures say is true about our condition, namely that we are all naturally under sin because of Adam and our state in Adam is such that we are dead in our trespasses and are naturally blind to who Jesus Christ is, whether we have his Word and law or not, how could our salvation that is based upon believing in and receiving Jesus Christ not be anything less than a New Creation? The apostle Paul picks up this very idea in his second letter to the Corinthians. Answering the questions why he doesn’t peddle the Gospel as a salesman, why he doesn’t leave out the hard parts of God’s Word, or why he doesn’t dim the lights and play soft music at the end of a sermon, he writes, “And even if our Gospel is veiled (not seen) it is veiled only to those who are perishing. In their case, the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers to keep them from seeing the light of the Gospel of the glory of Christ who is the image of God. For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2Cor. 4:3-6).

So in this, we are brought back to John 1 and the Word through whom everything was created. For the same Jesus Christ who created the heavens and the earth is the same Jesus Christ who says, “Let light shine out of darkness” in our hearts. For as the apostle John as shown, and others like him, the chief problem in the world is not that people haven’t heard of Jesus Christ, but it is that they haven’t heard Jesus Christ. Everyone in the world to some extent, no matter who they are or where they’re from, has heard and seen Jesus Christ. And yet by themselves they are all deaf and blind. The apostle Paul picks us this very topic concerning the unbelieving Jews in Romans 10, saying: “But I ask, have they not heard? Indeed they have, for ‘Their voice has gone out to all the earth, and their words to the ends of the earth” (Rm. 10:18). Here Paul quotes Psalm 19, which argues the same thing that John and Paul argue in their writings, namely that “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork; Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge; Yet there is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard” (Ps. 19:1-3). And so the chief problem, as the apostle Paul argues, is not that there is no faith, but it is that there is no hearing, for which reason he says in the preceding verse, “So faith comes from hearing, but hearing by the Word of Christ” (Rm. 10:17). In other words, our faith comes from us hearing the Lord and his Gospel, but where does our hearing come from? Our hearing comes from the Word of Christ. The very same Word that spoke the worlds into existence is the same Word who speaks our hearing into existence. As John records Christ later as saying to the Jews:

“I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice…” So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” Jesus answered them, “I told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name bear witness about me, but you do not believe because you are not part of my sheep. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me” (John 10:14-16, 24-27).

Now these are some deep truths that go beyond what we typically call the simple proclamation of the Gospel. They are a behind-the-scenes look at the Gospel that God has revealed to us through his Holy Spirit. And we are not given these things so that we can see around with a cup of coffee and debate things, but they are meant to transform our lives. How does this teaching do this?

1. First, these things make us thankful people. In fact it should make us the most thankful people in the world. For if we understand that everything that we have in this life that is good is a gift of God, we should be thankful to God. Moreover, if we understand who we are, namely that we are wretched sinners who deserve nothing good but deserve nothing but death and evil, the very fact that we are still breathing is cause enough to thank God for the rest of our days. But even more than that, if we understand that our sin has afforded for us an eternity in hell and that we in ourselves could find no real escape from this hell, then the fact that Jesus Christ has shown himself to us by his power and the Father’s good pleasure and not only has saved us from judgment but has brought us into the family of God so that we are not only his children but we share in his Inheritance, well, brothers, that is life-changing.

2. Second, these things should make us humble people. Several times in their writings, the apostles talk about salvation in Jesus Christ and say immediately that because of this salvation all boasting is removed. In other words, the Gospel of Jesus Christ was designed by God in such a way that saved men would have no grounds to boast in themselves. One of my favorite expressions of this is at the beginning of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians:

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord” (1Cor. 1:26-31).

Therefore, let us understand these things and boast in nothing except in Jesus Christ.

3. Third, these things should make us understand that no one is too far from God. No one. For if what the apostle argues is true, namely that there is no difference between the Jew who has the law of Moses and the Gentile who does not have it because they are both under sin, then we have no basis to judge whether or not someone is closer to believing the Gospel than someone else. There are no degrees of salvation–a person is either in Christ or he is not, and God, if he so pleases, can remove the veil of blindness from anyone he pleases.

I’ve heard a lot of people quote from 1 Timothy 2, but it’s not usually with the purpose I believe the apostle Paul is writing it. He says:

First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all men, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all, which is the testimony given at the proper time (1Tim. 2:1-5).

Well to skip any potential theological debate and jump directly into what Paul is writing here, what is he saying? Well, chiefly he is telling Timothy to tell the church to pray, to intercede, and to give thanks for all people, even those whom he describes as “kings and all who are in high places.” Why does he tell them this? Well, as hard as it may be to understand, it is possible that the Christians in Paul’s day lived under such a terrible government that it would make them not want to pray for, to intercede for, and to give thanks for their political leaders. Even more, not too long after Paul writes this letter, the greatest persecutor in the history of the church, Caesar Nero, would take the throne in Rome, and would kill thousands of Christians, crucifying them and feeding them to lions as Romans cheered in the Coliseum, and whose name in Hebrew just happens to add up to 666. But that is neither here nor there. Yet despite all this persecution and despite the wickedness of the kings and leaders, Paul urges the church to pray for them? Why? Because, first, he wanted Christians to treat their leaders in such a way that the church could “live a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way.” Secondly, they were to pray because God can save anyone. And while it can be argued that God does prefer to save the weak and the foolish and the nothings for the purpose of shaming the strong, the wise, and the somethings, God is not above saving anyone (cf. 1Cor. 1:27-29).

Therefore, when it comes to the grace of God, there is no lost cause on our side of the matter. For as the apostle Paul writes, “God has consigned all to disobedience [both Jews and Greeks], so that he might have mercy on all” (Rm. 11:32). Therefore, the nice lady who bakes pies for her neighbors and helps at the soup kitchen because she’s a Jehovah’s Witness is sitting in the exact same boat as the lesbian woman who volunteers at the Planned Parenthood clinic in San Francisco. Both are under sin, and both deny that Jesus Christ is the God of the universe because they are both dead, blind, and deaf to him and his Gospel. Therefore there is no prayer for any person’s soul that is prayed in vain, there is no preaching of the Gospel that is preached in vain, and there is no tear shed for a lost loved one that is shed in vain. No one is beyond the reach of the saving hand of God, for our God is not only a savior, but he is an Almighty Savior.

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your rational service (Rm. 12:1).

Seemingly, we are instructed from our births that the only way by which we will find true fulfillment in our lives is by becoming someone who is great and laudable—someone who is esteem-able. Implanted in our young minds are the society’s virtues of self-esteem and self-aggrandizement, wherein countless sources from parents to teachers, preachers to presidents, cheer us on to be anything that we desire to be, as long as we put our minds and our energies into it. We are inspired to dream dreams, to reach for the pinnacles of human existence, and to loathe whatever evil thoughts might step in our way that tell us, “You’re not good enough, you’re not smart enough, and dag-gone-it, people don’t like you.”

We are taught to become our own cheerleaders and our own advocates to society, and the only thing that holds us back from making our dreams realities is our own lack of positive thinking. And granting the short span of our lives and our preoccupation with them, our dreams nearly all consist of becoming well-to-do, staying healthy, and securing our future by investments so that we will not have the spend the entirety of our days toiling under the sun.

Apart from these, there are those who understand the reality of death and the passing nature of life, and these invest their time in some good or achievement that will carry on their name beyond their death. It is for them the only way by which they can grant for themselves some sort of immortality. In such a case, I cannot help but think of the English poet John Keats, who enthralled by the inevitably of his young death, wrote poetry with great zeal so as to secure his name among the Greats of English literature. Keats accomplished his goal and awarded himself the immortality he sought, but to what advantage and to what end?

The fact remains that in all of our pursuits, whether it is for the pleasures of this life or for nominal immortality—all are pursuits in futility. For whether we enjoy this life to the fullest or do such works so as to make a name for ourselves, all will come to an end at our deaths. We will no longer be able to enjoy the pleasures we once pursued or the prominence we had gained, for, as far as this life is concerned, all is done; it ceases to exist.

Granting the inevitability of our demise and the worthlessness of our worldly accomplishments to our deceased souls, what then is reasonable in this life? What is a rational pursuit? Is there anything that will be of everlasting good to our souls?

The apostle Paul in this letter to the Roman church gives the answer to this most profound of mysteries. Referencing what he had been teaching in the previous eleven chapters, the apostle argues the only rational way of living, the only sound pursuit in this life, is being a living sacrifice which is holy and acceptable to God. On the surface, this seems to us to be the most irrational thing, but granting the futility of every other path toward self-fulfillment, this is indeed the most rational of lifestyles.

Why is this so? It is so because we are finite and mortal creatures designed and brought into being by an eternal and immortal God. We are his handiwork. And since we are thus, it is reasonable that the only way by which we can achieve anything that lasts or anything of true immortality is if we are bound up in the Immortal and removed from the mortal. We must lose ourselves in God.

In this light, everything that Christ taught us makes sense. He spoke, “Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it (Mt. 10:39).” And elsewhere, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross (an instrument of death) and follow me” (Mk. 8:34). Furthermore, “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? (Mt. 16:26).

Jesus Christ, in all these things, called men to seek that which was everlasting—that which would count forever. Ironically (perhaps not), all the things that Christ taught us to do opposes everything that the world teaches us to do. It is the world that teaches us to search for our best life now and to make a name for ourselves, but Christ—the very God of the universe who created us—calls us to suffer and to die in this life for his sake and not to make a name for ourselves but to find our identity in him alone.

The call remains today as it did two-thousand years ago, are you willing to trust the Truth of Christ and forfeit the world and your name for the sake of an Inheritance that will not perish? Are you willing to give up your luxury and dreams and “suffer with him in order that you might also be glorified with him” (Rm. 8:17)? Will you consider this life and how it passes so quickly and consider the rationality of presenting yourself as a living sacrifice to the One True God? I pray that you will, because this life will be gone far quicker than you can imagine.

My belovéd Death! far too long have I
Been unfaithful to thee, giving Diblaim’s bed
To blind Desire and feigned Hope in thy stead.
Yet, how could I’ve known thee, hid ‘hind the lie
Of dye-drenched grayed hair and suppresséd sigh?
Seeing thee a foreign tyrant, I fled
From thy distance-blurred image to wed
One less loving to escape thy ill-bye.
I was deceived! Thou art not ill, indeed
Thou art the balm for my indifferent heart!
Come nigh to me (not too close!) and impart
The power thou gavest Keats in his age.
Breathe into me, sweet Death! cause me to bleed,
Fix my gaze past thee, my might never assuage.

In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness did not comprehend it (John 1:4, 5).

There are few things in creation that are as beautiful as a sunrise. At its beginning, a faint glow emanates on the eastern horizon so that that which was unseen starts to take a faint shape and form by the new light. Colors burst forth in the east, revealing an array of reds, blues, and purples. It is a most beautiful sight to behold, but, more than that , it is a foretelling of that which is to come—the sun. And once the sun breaks through and is fully revealed in the sky, the colors that marked its coming disappear, and we are left with a light that is so bright and powerful that we can scarcely look upon it, yet by it the rest of world is shown in a vivacity and clarity not known to us in the night.

In history, the coming of Jesus Christ is much like the event of a sunrise. Before the coming of our Lord, the world was shrouded in darkness, and little could be comprehended of the world, much less of the God who created it. Then God in his grace sent prophets to the people of Israel, pouring revelation upon them much like the impending sunrise pours dim light and color upon the world and the sky. Colors of red, purple, and blue gave the people a vague understanding of  the coming Day, that he who was to come was to be a Suffererer who was slaughtered, a King whose reign would never end, and would be to us Immanuel—God with us. All these things were known, yet hardly were these pieces put together so as to expect the singular Sun who would be to the world “the light of men,” neither did it prepare the world for the blinding Brightness and Revelation that would be Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

Yet, unlike the sunrise that bursts forth on the world, the coming of the Light of Men dawned upon a world that was blind and who was at home in darkness. Many heard of the Light through the prophets and the covenants while it was yet night, and they looked forward to a  dawn with eager expectation. Yet when the Light appeared, they did not comprehend him, not because the Light was not shining forth in Absolute Radiance and Splendor, but because they themselves were blind. The Light of Men had come into the world, revealing the things of God that were previously unknown, most significantly God’s Salvation, yet the men loved the darkness rather than the Light, for the darkness was their gain and comfort and the Light of Christ could not and would not be comprehended by them.

Though the Coming of the Light of Men was nearly two thousand years ago, nothing has changed with regard to the natural state of men. We have all been born into the Day, yet we, from our birth, are blind to the things of Christ. But for us who have comprehended the Light, something wonderful, unspeakable, and glorious happened, namely that he who spoke at the Beginning, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ (2Cor. 4:6). The Light who had burst into the world upon blind men had, through his Spirit, given us sight to behold him, to love him, and to adore him. And through him, we not only see God and our Salvation, but we also see the beauties of the elucidated world so that we are able to tread through it without stumbling.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. (John 1:1-3).

Each of the Gospel accounts has its beginning. Matthew finds its beginning at the birth of Jesus Christ, Mark at the beginning of Christ’s earthly ministry and the proclamation of the Kingdom, and Luke at the beginning of Christ’s forerunner, John the Baptist. For John, however, his beginning is the Beginning. Through John and its language we are taken back to the creation account of Genesis 1 and given a glance not only of the beginning of all things created but also of the purpose for their creation.

The apostle John’s account of the creation given in this text is not so much a building upon the text of Genesis 1 as it is an exposition of it. In the Genesis account we are told, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and earth.” Now the phrase, “In the beginning,” is purposely ambiguous, and its words are used elsewhere in the book of Genesis to describe Reuben, Jacob’s firstborn son. Thus the text can be alternately rendered (which has been argued by Jewish scholarship, ironically), “Through the Firstborn, God created the heavens and the earth.” So, from the very first phrase of the entire Bible we are given what the apostle John intimates in the beginning of his Gospel, namely, the creative work of Jesus Christ.

So as to clarify what can be presumed from Genesis, the apostle writes, “The Word was with God, and the Word was God; he was in the beginning with God.” In other words, we are given a recapitulation of what is evidenced in the Genesis account, namely that God exists, though One, in three Personages—the Firstborn through whom everything is made, the Father who guides and directs all things in accordance with his will, and the Spirit who broods lovingly as a mother hen over the created things until they should achieve the purpose for which they were created. From the Beginning it has been so, and we are given the explicit revelation of these things in the person of Jesus Christ.

We are further told, “All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made.” Now this statement is not merely an accreditation of how of the world was created, but the purpose behind its creation. The apostle Paul writes elsewhere, “All things were created by him and for him” (Col. 1:13), conveying not only the Son’s creative activity but also his role as the Firstborn of all Creation (cf. Col 1:15). All things were created for the inheritance of his Son—the Firstborn, the Preeminent One of all things.

Thus in John it is shown that, in the incarnation Jesus Christ, the creation has reached its “fullness of time” (cf. Gal. 4:4; Eph. 1:10) and has achieved the purpose for which it has been made, namely for the glory and enjoyment of the Son to the praise of God. Join me in adoration of him who laid the foundation of the world for the sake of redeeming a people for himself to the praise of the glory of his grace. Amen.

Before we seek to interpret what Christ was meaning when he spoke his famous last line before his death, it is important that we understand the words themselves and how a witness to the crucifixion (either at time of Christ’s crucifixion or through the lens of Scripture) who knew his Bible well would understand the cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

It is interesting to note before we begin that when Christ spoke those infamous words many in the crowd misunderstood them. Some in the crowd responded to his cry, “The man is calling for Elijah” (Mt. 27:47). Are we to conclude that Jesus was mumbling or that he was speaking so softly that the crowd could not understand his words? Matthew answers this question to the negative, testifying that Christ cried out those words with “a loud voice” (v. 27:46). I think that this misunderstanding of the crowd is comparable with that of the crowd’s misunderstanding of the Father speaking from heaven in John 12, where the Father, in response to Christ’s pre-crucifixion petition, “Father, glorify thy name,” says, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again” (Jn. 12:28). Those who heard the voice of God audibly were the same people who surrounded Christ at his crucifixion, viz. the unbelieving Jerusalem inhabitants, and they who did not believe thought the voice of God was thunder or an angel speaking to Christ. The only ones who understood what the Father had said were those who had believed in Christ, and to them Christ says, “This voice has come for your sake, not mine” (Jn. 12:30). Therefore, I believe that the “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” of Christ was spoken and comprehended for the benefit of the believing ones since not all who heard him understood his words.

If then we presume that Christ’s cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” was a cry that was a benefit to those who had believed on him, how then is that cry a benefit to the believing ones? Getting back to the actual words that Christ spoke in his cry, a majority of those who had believed on Christ at the time of his crucifixion were Jews and thus were well-steeped in the Scriptures. And since they knew the Scriptures well, having been taught from them their entire lives, when Christ cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” the first thing that their minds would rush to is Psalm 22. Why? Because Psalm 22 begins with the very phrase, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Ps. 22:1).

Granting that these were Jews who were raised in the Scriptures and also that it was very likely that they sung Psalm 22 along with the other Psalms at their synagogues, it is likely that Christ’s speaking those words to the believing Jewish onlookers had the same effect on them as a speaker would to us who in his discourse simply said, “Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me,” or, “A mighty fortress is our God,” namely that it would bring to mind the text of the entire song.

So then, what words were brought to mind when Christ cried that first line of Psalm 22 that would be of elucidating benefit to the believing onlookers of his crucifixion? Well, a casual reading of Psalm 22 would highlight a great deal of Christ’s crucifixion and the Plan of it, even before the foundation of the world, and would further show forth Christ’s desire, even to the end, that his followers would understand that he had to go “to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised” (Mt. 16:21):

Mt. 27:39-43: “And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads and saying, ‘You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.’ So also the chief priests, with the scribes and elders, mocked him, saying, ‘He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he desires him. For he said, “I am the Son of God.”‘”

Ps. 22:6-8: “But I am a worm and not a man,
scorned by mankind and despised by the people.
All who see me mock me;
they make mouths at me; they wag their heads [saying],
‘He trusts in the Lord; let him deliver him;
let him rescue him, for he delights in him!’”

Mt. 27:35-36: “And when they had crucified him, they divided his garments among them by casting lots. Then they sat down and kept watch over him there.”

Ps. 22:16-18: “For dogs encompass me;
a company of evildoers encircles me;
they have pierced my hands and feet–
I can count all my bones–
they stare and gloat over me;
they divide my garments among them,
and for my clothing they cast lots.

Now it is clear by the way that Matthew constructs his narrative of the crucifixion that Psalm 22 was a clearly in the backdrop. In both passages we see God’s Afflicted One being mocked, having heads wagged at him, mockers deriding him saying, “He trusts in the Lord; let him deliver him,” his clothes being divided up and distributed by the casting of lots, evil men surrounding him, and most significantly, his hands and feet being pierced. Thus by crying out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” Christ declares that he has fulfilled Psalm 22 and thus edifies his believing listeners. Though it is clear from later in the narrative that the followers of Christ did not grasp what all of these things entailed, Christ’s testimony upon his death concerning Psalm 22 has greatly encouraged believers in the Church for two millennia after the pouring out of the Spirit.

Now that we have surmised the intention of Christ in his cry and Matthew in his writing the narrative of Christ’s crucifixion, how are we understand the literal meaning of the words, “My God, my God why have you forsaken me?” Are we to simply conclude that Christ was merely referencing Psalm 22 and the words had no literal, present meaning with respect to the event of Christ’s crucifixion, or are we to forget Psalm 22 altogether and focus only on the words of the cry of Christ?

Now, I have posited the latter of the two questions, viz. “Are we to forget Psalm 22 altogether and focus only on the words of the cry of Christ,” because I cannot count how many times I have heard this done in Sunday School lessons and in Easter sermons. Far too many times have I heard explanations and theories as to what “Christ’s being forsaken” means without a thought at looking at Psalm 22. I think it is foolish to even attempt such, for, as we have already seen, the parallels between the two passages can in no way be considered mere coincidence. Matthew was quite intentional when he wrote his crucifixion narrative, and to miss his heavy allusions to Psalm 22 is to miss his meaning entirely.

Furthermore, to ignore Matthew’s references to Psalm 22 has consequently led to some strange, if not heretical, doctrines concerning the nature of Christ’s crucifixion. One such doctrine that is drawn from looking at Christ’s words alone is a doctrine that states that God forsook Christ when he took upon himself the sins of the many because God, being holy, cannot look upon sin. In other words, when Christ became sin on our behalf (cf. 2Cor. 5:21), God literally turned his back away from Christ, and Christ looked up into heaven and saw the Father’s back and cried, “My God, my God, why have your forsaken me?” While it is preposterous to think that Jesus looked up into heaven and saw the back of him who has no back (for God is Spirit), it is more preposterous to say that a holy God, because he is holy, cannot look upon sin. If this were true, how in the world can we explain the rest of Scripture? Was it not God who sought out sinful Adam? Was it not God who called out the idolater Abram? Was it not God who spoke with the murderer Moses face to face? Was it not God who spoke to Satan, the father of sin, and restricted his authority in the narrative of Job? Was it not God Incarnate who took on the form of sinful flesh and lived among sinful men, eating with tax collectors and prostitutes, calling them to himself? And will it not be God who at the Judgment looks face to face with reprobate and casts them into Eternal Fire? To say that God cannot look upon sin out of some fear of tainting his holiness is totally false and contradicts Revelation itself. If this were somehow true, we must conclude that God is like the god of the Deists, who set the universe into motion and after the Fall disappeared for his holiness’s sake, and not Emmanuel–God with us, who holds every particle together (even the sinful particles), by the Word of his power.

A second strange doctrine that is imposed upon Christ’s words, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” is that at the cross there was an ontological separation between the Father and the Son. In other words, at the cross, a unique and God-jarring event took place that never took place before and will never take place again in that the Son was in some way separated from Father in such a way that the One became Two, or, in Trinitarian thought, the Three became Two and One. Now, nowhere in Scripture will you find such a conclusion about the event of the crucifixion in the apostles’ writings, nor you will not find such in Christ’s words except from crass assumption. In addition to the lack of clear textual support, to affirm the possibility of such a division in the Godhead has all sorts of negative ramifications, the most significant being that God who has, who is, and who will ever be eternally One is able not to be that way at the Cross. It is simply a faulty assumption by poor students of God’s Word, and it should never again be spoken of.

Furthermore, to conclude that the Father literally turned his back or face away from Christ when he poured his wrath upon his most Beloved Son is tantamount to saying that the Father was at one point displeased with the work of the Son. While it can be rightly said that Christ became sin on our behalf and was accursed for us who were accursed, can we ever come to the conclusion that there was ever a point in Christ’s work where the Father did not say, “This is my Beloved Son with whom I am well pleased? Furthermore, to conclude such a reality at the event of the crucifixion contradicts the declaration of Psalm 22–the aforementioned text from which Matthew draws much of his parallels. There the psalmist writes:

For [the Lord] has not despised or abhorred
the affliction of the Afflicted,
and he has not hidden his face from him,
but has heard, when he cried to him (Ps. 22:24).

In other words, the psalmist declares the very same truth that the Resurrection declares, namely that God was pleased with the work of his Son. The Father did not literally turn his face away from the Son in disgust or abhorrence, but he poured his wrath on him who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God (cf. 2Cor. 5:21). Therefore, God raised Christ up, vindicating the Righteousness of his Son, who, in three glorious Days, defeated both sin and death.

A Mediating Position
How then are we to interpret Christ’s words, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me”? First, as I have already contended, we need to understand Christ’s declaration in light of Psalm 22. It is clearly the Gospel author’s intention that we be drawn to this gloriously prophetic psalm to further elucidate and validate Christ’s crucifixion. Secondly, we need to look at Christ’s cry in the light of the other Scripture that teaches Christ’s work. We do not need to assume anything of the words alone, but we need to test our conclusions against the testimony of the apostles. Was Christ accursed for our sake? Yes, for the apostle Paul declares, “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us–for it is written, ‘Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree’” (Gal. 3:13). Did Christ in some way become sin on the cross? Yes, for the apostle declares elsewhere, “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2Cor. 5:21). Did Christ bear God’s wrath for our sake? Yes, for the apostle writes again, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God and are justified by his grace as gift from the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood to be received by faith” (Rm. 3:23-25). All of these things we can affirm by Christ’s words and by the teachings of the apostles, therefore these things can be concluded of the text.

However, we need to avoid such conclusions that are clearly speculative. Did God in some way actually turn his back on Christ? This is no where stated in the text, and therefore we should not draw this conclusion from it. Did God not look upon Christ because of his holy nature that cannot look upon sin? This also is not in the text and is clearly refuted by the whole of Scripture and redemptive history. Did the Father turn his face away with some sort of displeasure in his Son? No, because Psalm 22 declares contrarily that the Father has not turned his face away from his Afflicted One. All these speculative assumptions simply need to be cast away and never spoken of again in Sunday School classes or Easter sermons, because they miss the clear purpose of the author and they raise all sorts of unneeded questions with respect to the nature of the Triune God. Safe are those who hold fast to the analogia fidei, and treacherous are those who devise strange doctrines. Soli Deo gloria. Amen.

And it is from this mountain that we come to Makeddah–literally, the Place of Shepherds. Little is known of this place except that after Joshua and Israel had fought the armies of the five united cities, their five kings fled to Makeddah and hid themselves in a cave there. Their place of hiding was not long kept from Joshua, and he commanded that large stones and guards be placed in front of the entrance of the cave to hold the kings until the pursuit against the armies of their cities was completed. After Israel had struck the majority of the armies in battle, they returned to Makeddah to meet the camp of Israel there.

Upon their return, Joshua commanded that the stones be rolled away and the kings be brought out before the people. He commanded them, “Be strong and courageous,” and then instructed them to place their feet upon the necks of the kings (the kings of Jerusalem, Hebron, Jarmuth, Lachish, and Eglon), and to strike them with the sword. Afterward, he commanded that they be hung upon trees to testify to all who saw them that they were accursed. At sundown, their bodies were taken down and placed back into the caves, and the stones were rolled back in front of them, to which the author adds, “There they remain to this very day” (Josh. 10:27).

What makes this text interesting is not the fact that five kings of Canaanite cities were killed by Joshua and Israel during their conquest for the land, but it is its multiple parallels to the story of another Joshua (viz. Jesus Christ). This Joshua, who was named thus because, as the angel declared, “He will save his people from their sins” (Mt. 1:21), was not the conqueror of earthly kings and kingdoms, but he was the conqueror of sin and death. And he was not instructed to be strong and courageous, but he was strong and courageous and did perfectly what the Joshua of old was commanded to do, namely, to “Meditate on the Book of the Law day and night, and to do according to all that is written in it” (Josh. 1:8). And thus Jesus Christ was the realization of him whom the Joshua of old foreshadowed and of the man of Psalm 1, who “Walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers, but who delights in the law of the Lord” (Ps. 1:1,2).

Yet unlike the Joshua of old, the Jesus of the new did not defeat his foes by their bloodshed and battle, but he defeated them by conquering them in the way that the Joshua of old could not, and he did so utterly and completely. Instead of striking his enemies directly with a mortal blow, he himself was struck and was killed. Instead of hanging his enemies upon a tree declaring them accursed, he himself was hung on tree and was accursed for the sake of those who bore the curse of sin and death, for, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree” (Gal. 3:13). And instead of destroying his enemies and throwing them into a cave and sealing it with a stone and protecting it with guards, he himself was placed into a cave and sealed with a stone which was protected by guards.

Yet, there is where the similarities end. Unlike the five kings who were placed into a tomb and sealed with a stone where, “They remain to this very day,” Jesus Christ was placed into his stone-barred tomb and on the third day an angel rolled it away and Jesus Christ walked out–alive–the Firstborn from the dead. For unlike the kings who were accursed because of their own sins, Jesus Christ, having no sin but absolute Perfection, bore the sins of his people, thereby removing their curse and giving to them freedom from sin and life everlasting. And unlike them, he does not remain in his tomb “to this very day,” for he was vindicated by God for his Righteousness. And because he was vindicated and through his work defeated his enemies once and for all, he ascended to the right hand of the Father until that Time when his work will finally bring all of his enemies under his feet. And unlike the Israelites who conquered Canaan and later lost it because of their idolatry, Jesus Christ’s conquering of his enemies is complete and final. There shall never be another uprising or another turning to idolatry. For in that Day, his people will see him as he truly is, and nothing less than him will ever wet their palettes. Lord, hasten that Day! Amen.

Well, when we think upon the all things in Romans 8:28, we must understand it in its context. The apostle Paul is speaking there particularly of the suffering of the saints, manifesting itself in tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, danger, nakedness, and death (v. 35). These things seem to come to the saint from external sources, such as from those whom the apostle labels, “Life and death, angels and rulers, things present and things to come, powers, height and depth, and everything else in all of creation (vv. 38, 39). None of these things, the apostle says, “will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (v. 39).

But what of our personal sinning and failure, are they included in the all things? We should note that when we find this declaration of the apostle, it is nestled in God’s sovereign plan to redeem a people for himself. He writes:

And we know that for those who love God, all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew, he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, so that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined, he also called, and those whom he called, he also justified, and those whom he justified, he also glorified (vv. 28-30).

After the apostle declares that all things are working to the good of the saint, he then defines what that good is, namely the being conformed to the image of Jesus Christ. Everything that we encounter as children of God works to our good, because, through these things, we are being made into Christ’s likeness. And this is our salvation, for the apostle writes earlier that we will be glorified with [Christ] provided that we suffer with him (v. 17).

So then, is this all things only relegated to the sufferings that we suffer from external sources? It is interesting to note that following the declaration of God’s glorious plan for the salvation of his people that begins in his foreknowledge (or fore-love) and ends in the glorification of his people, the apostle writes:

Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died, more than that, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us (vv. 31, 32).

In other words, after the apostle says that all things work together for the good of his people (which we presume at least to include suffering), he speaks of charges being made against God’s elect and yet failing and condemnation being pronounced God’s chosen and yet thwarted. From where do these accusations come? They must come from sources outside of the saint that accuse him of either his past sins or his present sins. And yet these accusations utterly fail, because Christ died, Christ was raised, Christ is at the right hand of God, and Christ is pleading our case for us. Therefore our sins have no power to separate us from God’s love, because Christ has taken care of all of them through his Work.

From this, we can surmise that in the least that our sins were not far from the apostle’s mind when he penned the all things in v. 8:28. But if can be presumed that even the sins that we commit as Christians work to our good, how then do they work to our good?

1. Our sins work to our good, because they draw us back to the Gospel
In the life of the Christian there is the glorious and mind-blowing reality that we are presently counted righteous in the sight of God on the one hand and we are being made righteous on the other hand. In other words, because of what Christ has done in his righteous life and on the cross, we who are in him are looked upon by God as spotless and blameless. However, because we are not yet what we shall be, we are still sinners that are being made righteous by the work of the Holy Spirit. Through the Spirit, we are progressively putting to death the fleshly deeds of our bodies, and we are progressively striving more and more onto holiness (v. 8:13). And so we are counted and considered righteous because of Christ, and we are not righteous but are becoming righteous because of the Spirit.

Therefore, since we are in such a state, we will still sin and will continue to sin until the day we die. The curse that remains upon our bodies is such that a war will always be waged, and, we, because of our inability to see Christ for who he truly is and because of our weaknesses, will continue to fall and to stumble. And every time we fall and stumble and sin against our Lord, it is a call to us to remember the Gospel that saved us in the beginning. For we are not saved from our pre-Christ sins and then left to fend off our post-Christ sins, but Christ has covered all of our transgressions with his blood, and he delights in making us righteous.

It is for this reason that the apostle John writes:

If we walk in the light, as [God] is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1Jn. 1:7-9)

In other words, if we, as children of God–who do not walk in darkness but walk in light–stumble along the path, Christ is there, as he ever was, ready to pick us up, to cleanse us, and to send us back onto the path of righteousness. We simply need to come to him as we first came to him, humble and destitute, recognizing that he alone is our righteousness.

2. Our sins work to our good, because they kill self-righteousness
Now, I must admit that I cannot think of a chapter and verse number for this one, but I can testify to it from countless experiences that I believe accord with the Gospel. There are short seasons in my life where it seems that the Spirit of God is more pleased to produce his fruits in me than in other seasons. And I can tell when these seasons are about to end, because I start thinking to myself, “I doing alright. I have been pretty merciful to the merciless, I have loved by wife like I ought (or as I think I ought), I have been praying regularly, I have been meditating on the Word incessantly, I have been pretty generous, etc.” And I start thinking upon these things and start feeling as though I have arrived or am close to it. “I am righteous, I am holy, and God sure is lucky to have me on his side.”

And as surely as I think these things, my good and gracious attitude drops like a rock, lusts creep in that were not there before, and I stumble and fall into the very things that I was boasting about not falling into just days or hours prior. My sin comes again before my eyes, and I am reminded of how helpless and hopeless I am in my own power. I am again brought down to my knees, pleading for my Savior’s righteousness and asking forgiveness for my self-righteousness.

And it is seasons like these that I praise God for my sins and my failings, not because I rejoice in unrighteousness, but because it brings me back to the Cross. I am reminded again that the Gospel is not something that is merely for the unsaved, but it is chiefly for those of us who are being saved, so that we might not boast in anyone save Christ. And in this way, my sin works for my good, because it drives me back to my Savior and makes me again as I ought to be– like a child in need of God’s absolute and loving care, so that I look up to him who is Perfect alone, so that I am conformed further to his image.

Final Thoughts
My hope is if you are reading this and you are in Christ that you will realize that even your sin is working to your good. For if you are in Christ, the Spirit who first saved you will remind you of the Gospel which first brought you to him, and it will cause you to rejoice again in the great Salvation that was accomplished for you by Christ alone. This glorious truth, however, should never be an excuse by which we “sin so that grace may abound,” but it is call to us to be constantly repenting from those things that do not please our Lord. For our Lord has been most kind and gracious to us, and how shall we continue to sin against such Kindness and Grace? Amen.

The case with us who are in Christ is no different than that of Job. Because of what Christ has done upon the cross and because of his righteous life, we who are in him are likewise counted righteous. For this reason, when we suffer as God’s children, it is never because we are being judged for some sin that we may have committed or some duty that we may not have fulfilled, for all of our sins, all of our shortcomings, and all of our judgment has been cast upon Christ fully and finally. Therefore when we suffer, it always has a much grander purpose.

For this reason, the apostle Paul declares in the context of his discourse on suffering that “For those who love God, all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Rm. 8:28). And this grand purpose for which these sufferings work together is the molding of us into the image of Jesus Christ–he who suffered more than any man could ever suffer (cf. Rm. 8:29, 30). For while many men have suffered hardships and have endured great tribulations in this life, none them have descended from the Throne of Heaven and have become as a slave, and none of them have been rejected as he was rejected, and none of them have been blameless and yet bore the sins of others. Yet Christ, though being God over all, suffered in this way, and we who are his followers are called onto the same path that he walked, for Christ declared, “He who would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Mt. 16:24).

And what does it mean to take up our cross and to follow Christ? It means that we who are Christ’s followers will endure the same hardships that he endured. For the apostle Paul begins his aforementioned discourse on suffering writing, “[We are children and] heirs, provided that we suffer with [Christ] in order that we may also be glorified with him” (Rm. 8:16, 17). This means that we who are children of God will by necessity suffer as our Firstborn Brother suffered. Just as Christ was hated by the world, so shall we be hated by the world (cf. Jn. 7:7). Just as Christ was reviled and cursed by men, so shall we be reviled and cursed by men (Mt. 5:11, 12). Just as Christ suffered unjustly, so shall we suffer unjustly. Just as Christ was poor and lowly, so shall we be poor and lowly. Just as Christ was rejected by his own people, so shall we be rejected by our own people. And just as Christ loved deeply and yet was hated, so shall we love deeply and yet be hated.

Yet, in all these things we are more than conquerors in Christ who loves us (cf. Rm. 8:37), in spite of the fact that we are being killed all the day long (cf. Rm. 8:36). For despite these sufferings and hardships in this age, we have the hope of the glory of God set before us. For when we suffer as Christ suffered, we are being made like him in all things, so that we might share in the Great Inheritance that is his. For if we are indeed Christ’s followers, our hope and desires are not in this world, but they are vested in the Kingdom of God, so that we might be like Moses, who, though the son of Pharaoh’s daughter and heir to the riches of Egypt, counted the reproach of Christ as greater riches (cf. Heb. 11:24). We likewise must consider the reproach that comes with being named with Christ as greater than the pleasures of this world, and, because of the riches of Christ and his glory, we should always rejoice knowing what is laid in store for us.

Therefore, dear brother or sister, do not let your heart be overcome by the venomous lies of those who teach that your suffering is evidence of your sin and disobedience, for, in reality, the opposite is the case. If you are indeed suffering while you are following hard after our Lord, you can rest assured that you are in God’s will and that God is using these things to refine you into the image of his most Beloved Son. God has much greater riches laid in store for you than the comforts, conveniences, pleasures, and esteem of this wicked age, and you should lift up your head in thanksgiving to him who saw it fit to refine you as gold.

Upon coming to Jesus, Nicodemus said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him” (Jn. 3:2). Nicodemus’s confession to Christ is an astounding one, and it places him in direct opposition to his Pharisee brothers. Yet, despite the greatness of Nicodemus’s confession, Christ does not respond to his confession with a “Thank you,” or a “You are right,” or even the response he gave to Peter upon his confession, “Blessed are you!” Christ does none of these things but seems to ignore the Nicodemus’s statement altogether.

Instead of responding directly to Nicodemus’s bold confession, Jesus says to him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again [or from above] he cannot see the kingdom of God” (v. 3:3). Now, where in the world did that response come from? It seems that Nicodemus said one thing to Christ, and Christ simply decided to ignore Nicodemus’s statement and simply chose to say what was on his mind.

In spite of this appearance on the surface, it would likely be a bit of a misunderstanding to say that Christ’s response had nothing to do with Nicodemus’s declaration. What we are seeing here, I believe, is the Rabbi, whom Nicodemus declared was from God, teaching the Pharisee something that he had somehow missed in his studies of the Scriptures. For Christ, after teaching Nicodemus these truths, says to him, “Are you the teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things? (v. 3:10). Jesus scolds Nicodemus for his lack of understanding in his position as a Pharisee, a teacher of Israel, for apparently this what Christ is teaching to Nicodemus is something that he should have already known.

This teaching, this fundamental doctrine that Nicodemus should have known is that a man must be born again or born from above to see the Kingdom of God. In other words, for a man to be saved and to inherent eternal life, he must be born a second time in a supernatural and heavenly way. We know this because the word translated “again” is ambiguous in that it does mean “again” but it also carries with it the connotation of being “from above.” Therefore, salvation is contingent upon this “second birth from above,” and not to be born again means that one has not received God’s salvation.

Nicodemus, understanding the gravity of this teaching, naturally asks how this second birth comes about. He asks, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” (v. 3:4). Nicodemus’s response to the claim of Christ is about as natural a response as they come. When Christ declares, “You must be born again to be saved,” Nicodemus asks what he must do. “How can I cause myself to be born again?” he asks. “Must I find my mother and be born from her again?”

This, of course, is a ludicrous response, for what man can be born of his mother twice especially when he is a grown man? However, what is more ludicrous than the image of a grown man being born again by his mother is the question, “What must I do to cause myself to be born?” This question is thus because of the image of birth, for no one has ever caused himself to be born of his mother, but it was an act that happened totally irrespective of the man’s work or will. For, how many of us determined that we would come into existence? How many of us commanded our parents to perform the duty of marriage so as to cause ourselves to be conceived? How many gave direction to God to knit us in our mother’s wombs? The answer to these questions is an obvious, “None of us,” for we had no part in our birth. The passive tense of the construction is evidence enough, for we do not bear ourselves, but we are born.

In spite of the image of birth, our answer to the question is typically as absurd as Nicodemus’s, for, instead of conceding that our births had happened apart from us, we criticize Nicodemus for his ridiculous response and say, “Of course you cannot crawl back into your mother’s womb and be born again. To be born again you must accept Jesus as your personal Savior and let him into your heart.” We, misunderstanding the image birth just as badly as Nicodemus did, still attempt to make our being born again something that we cause by performing some act. It would be as ridiculous as saying that before we were born physically we accepted our mother as our personal mother and were thereby conceived and born by her.

But how does Jesus respond to Nicodemus’s question? He responds, saying:

Do not marvel that I said to you, “You must be born again.” The wind [or Spirit] blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit” (v. 3:8).

In other words, Christ responds to Nicodemus concerning the image of second birth just as the image demands, namely by saying that just as no man was born of his mother by his own will, so no man is born of the Spirit by his own will. The Spirit blows where he wishes and wills, and he, like the wind, cannot be captured or directed, and so everyone who is born again is born apart from man’s will or work and by the will of the Spirit alone (cf. Rm. 9:16).

Nicodemus’s response to Christ’s claim is telling, because as a Pharisee he had been living his whole life willing and working his way to God. You can almost hear the devastation in his voice when he cries out, “How can these things be?” (v. 3:9). And yet Christ responds, asking, “Are you the teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things?” (v. 3:10). Christ is declaring to Nicodemus that these claims he is making are not new claims, but they are found clearly in the Law and Prophets. Christ is rebuking Nicodemus for his ignorance, for he, being a teacher of God’s people, should know these things well, for they are fundamental doctrines to the faith. Indeed, we find these declarations numerous times in different renditions of the New Covenant where God, by his will and work, causes his people to come into his Kingdom. As indeed he writes in Ezekiel:

“I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and [I will] cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules” (Ez. 36:26, 27; cf. Jer. 31:31-34).

These writings of the prophet declare that this being born again, this New Covenant that God will establish with his people, is unlike the Old Covenant in that God alone does the work and he alone receives the honor and the glory for it. Indeed, we find this fulfilled by Christ’s work where he, taking the cup of wine, says, “This cup that is poured out for you is the New Covenant in my blood” (Lk. 22:20).

Christ makes this point clear later in the discourse with Nicodemus, saying, “No one has ascended into heaven except he who descended from heaven, the Son of Man” (v. 3:13). The apostle Paul explains this same Scripture in this way:

For Moses writes about the righteousness that is based on the law, that the person who does the commandments shall live by them. But the righteousness based on faith says, “Do not say in your heart, ‘Who will ascend into heaven?’” (that is, to bring Christ down) or “‘Who will descend into the abyss?’” (that is, to bring Christ up from the dead). But what does it say? “The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart” (that is, the word of faith that we proclaim) (Rm. 10:5-8).

In other words, Paul is saying that righteousness and eternal life comes one of two ways: it either, one, comes from living according to the Law (which is impossible), or, two, it comes from faith in Christ alone. And lest we be confused into thinking that the apostle is declaring that we merit our righteousness by some faith that is our own, the apostle writes a few verses later, “So faith comes from hearing, but hearing by the word of Christ” (v. 10:17). To clarify the apostle’s meaning, he is saying that our faith comes from hearing the Gospel proclaimed (v. 10:15), but our ability to hear the Gospel and believe comes from the spoken and creative Word of Christ. Just as God caused us to see the glory of the Gospel by creatively declaring, “Let light shine out of darkness” (2Cor. 4:6), so too does our hearing the Gospel unto faith comes from God alone (cf. Jn. 12:36-43).

Christ makes this very point later in John’s Gospel, saying to the Jews:

I told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name bear witness about me, but you do not believe because you are not part of my flock. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one” (vv. 10:25-30).

In other words, Christ is declaring that belief in him comes from being a part of his flock. If one is not of his flock, they will not believe, because they do not hear his voice. And this flock is ordained by God and is accomplished, if you will, by the free will of the Spirit of God. For Christ testifies earlier, “I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice” (v. 10:16).

So to summarize the teaching of Christ to Nicodemus concerning being born again, the reality is that our second birth by the Spirit of God is, like our physical births, not caused by the work or the will of man, but it is caused by the will and ordinance of God alone. In this way, the apostle Paul is validated in his claim that “[God] has mercy on whomever he wills, and he hardens whomever he wills” (Rm. 9:18). Therefore, the Gospel is not a matter of selling a religion to men so as to create converts, but it is the matter of sowing the seeds of Christ and allowing God to cause the growth (cf. 1Cor. 3:6). For this reason, when the apostle Paul gives an analogy of evangelism, he does not give a picture of a salesman peddling a product, but he gives the picture of a victory parade. He writes:

But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere. For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life. Who is sufficient for these things? For we are not, like so many, peddlers of God’s word, but as men of sincerity, as commissioned by God, in the sight of God we speak in Christ (2Cor. 2:14-17).

In other words, the apostle is saying that as a preacher of Christ, his primary concern is not preaching the Gospel for the sake of saving souls, but it is to spread the aroma of Christ around the world. If some hear and believe, the fragrance of Christ is spread; if some hear and reject Christ, the fragrance of Christ is spread. Either way, the name of Christ is proclaimed, and he is glorified.

The questions that remain for you to ask yourself is, “Do you respond like Nicodemus did to the Gospel and look at what work or act of will that you must do to be saved, or do look upon Christ alone as the Author of your faith? And when you evangelize, do you look at the Gospel as something to be distorted and sold to the unwitting, or do you proclaim it boldly with all its offenses trusting that God will call his sheep to himself?” These are not trivial questions, for how you answer these will determine how you think of the Gospel and will greatly influence your methods and preaching of the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.

For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking and their foolish hearts were darkened (Rm. 1:22, 23).

I heard Douglas Wilson at one time give an argument for the existence of God from the existence of God’s gifts. He argued this way: that if a man were walking through a deserted forest and along the way found a gift neatly wrapped, he would likely think it odd to find such a thing on a path going through such a forest. He might receive the gift, though he might consider it a sheer and freak coincidence that this one solitary gift was laid in the path of his footsteps. However, if that same man walked further and started to find gift after gift laid along the path that he alone was walking, he would by necessity conclude that someone had placed these things ahead of him and for his enjoyment. He would know from the string of gifts that there was a giver, and that giver, whoever he is, is deserving of thanksgiving.

The universe likewise is such a place where men live their lives and are constantly receiving gifts from God. We live each day partaking of the bounty granted to us–breathable air, drinkable water, food, family, the beauty of creation, the delay of justice for wrongs committed, and the gift of life by which we enjoy these things. All these gifts have been consistently laid before all of us, and oftentimes we have taken these gifts and have not given thanks where thanksgiving is due. We instead take for granted that these things are common blessings to all men, and, instead of responding with great joy in thanksgiving to the One who gave these things to us, we turn against God with hard and darkened hearts, declaring all these gifts to be freak accidents of some cosmic collisions that happened billions of years ago.

And this practice of living lives that receive the gifts of God but refuse to give thanks to him is not a practice restricted to post-Enlightenment and to the scientific age, but it has always existed where men have existed. The apostle Paul writing to the Romans testifies to this, saying, “Though [men] knew God [through the evidences in creation], they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking and their foolish hearts were darkened.” In other words, men have always had a history of enjoying the gifts of God, but instead of viewing those gifts as they ought, viz. as the grand liberality of a good and powerful Creator toward his creatures, they turn with hard hearts against him, having become foolish in their thinking and having hearts that are darkened. These may even realize that these things are good gifts and may even have a spirit of thanksgiving (especially around Thanksgiving Day), yet they gives thanks to a phantom of non-existence, having a thankful spirit but not directing that thanks toward him who is the Giver.

The root of this refusal to give thanks is idolatry. And while it is common to think of idolatry as active praising and giving thanks to someone or something that is not God, it is also not to ascribe praise and thanksgiving where it rightly due. For even the popular atheist, Christopher Hitchens, attests to himself having a spirit of thanksgiving for the sake of his avoiding hubris, and his acknowledgement of the existence of this bounty of creation laid before him and his refusal to give thanks to him who gave it is the grossest form of idolatry–self-idolatry.

As we come into this season where men are called to give thanks for the blessings that have been granted them, it is a call to us for self-reflection. Do we give thanks where it is rightly due, and do we praise him to whom praise is due alone? Do we find ourselves with thankful hearts that survey each blessing that every new day brings to us, or do we grumble because of our grievances that are generally petty in comparison? Every gift granted to men is blood-bought gift of Christ, and those who do not praise him as that Giver will be condemned for it. May this season be a call to remembering him who has given to us all good things, Jesus Christ, who is God over all, blessed forever. Amen.