Josh King

Damnation Taken Lovingly (Matthew 27:45-61)

Suspended between heaven and earth, Jesus was forsaken by both, but it was only once the heaves turned black that He cried out in agony, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”

What does it mean that Jesus was forsaken? Jesus clues us in when He uses language like “outer darkness,” and “weeping and gnashing of teeth.” To be forsaken means to be cast our from God’s covenant people, to be outside the camp, outside of God’s covenant love, to be thrust out with the Gentiles, to be in darkness. It is to be cursed by God. The Scotch minister, missionary, and professor John Duncan asked his students, “Ay, ay d’ ye know what it was dying on the cross, forsaken by His Father—d’ ye know what it was? What? What? What? It was damnation—and damnation taken lovingly.” What does it mean to be forsaken? To put it as bluntly and shockingly as I can conceive, for it is shocking, awesome, and wondrous—God damned God. “Yet it was the will of the LORD to crush him; he has put him to grief (Isaiah 53:10).” R.C. Sproul appropriately ponders, “I wonder whether Jesus was even aware of the nails and the thorns?” Speaking of what Jesus began to sense in the garden Tim Keller writes, “He was facing something beyond physical torment, even beyond physical death—something so much worse that these were like flea bites by comparison.”

Jesus always addressed God as Father, save this one instance. He shouted in agony, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” that we might shout with awestruck joy, “My Father, My Father, why have you accepted me?” The Son was forsaken that we might be adopted.

The Dogmatician: God’s Book that Cannot but Be Read

No one escapes the power of general revelation. Religion belongs to the essence of a human. The idea and existence of God, the spiritual independence and eternal destiny of the world, the moral world order and its ultimate triumph—all these are problems that never cease to engage the human mind. Metaphysical need cannot be suppressed. Philosophy perennially seeks to satisfy that need. It is general revelation that keeps that need alive. It keeps human beings from degrading themselves into animals. It binds them to a supersensible world. It maintains in them the awareness that they have been created in God’s image and can only find rest in God. General revelation preserves humankind in order that it can be found and healed by Christ and until it is. To that extent natural theology used to be correctly denominated a “preamble of faith,” a divine preparation and education for Christianity. General revelation is the foundation on which special revelation builds itself up. —Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics

The Giggle Silencing Guffaw (Matthew 27:27-44)

Irony is a hollow point bullet that also has deeper penetration. It is a longer blade and serrated too. “Your not a king,” will not stab near as deep or jagged as, “Hail, King of the Jews!” when spoken in mockery. Sarcasm shells pierce to the bone and make a mess getting there. But don’t miss Matthew’s irony for soldiers’, crowd’s and leaders’, that is, don’t miss his mockery of their mockery. The supreme irony is that their irony isn’t ironic. Instead of being laughed with, they are laughed at. The joke is on them.

Jesus really is the King (Matthew 27:29, 37, 42). Jesus is building the temple by destruction (Matthew 27:40; John 2:19-22). It is precisely because Jesus is the Son of God that He will not come down from the cross in obedience to His Father (Matthew 27:40). It is only by not saving Himself that He can save others (Matthew 27:42). It is only because Jesus is lifted up that any believe in Him (Matthew 27:43; John 12:32-33).

Don’t get in a zinger competition with God. God’s irony always wins. He has the bigger sense of humor. He always laughs loudest. God’s victorious righteous guffaw silences the sinful giggles of wicked men. Play no pretend sarcastic homage to God’s King. Kiss the Son, lest He be angry. Blessed are all who take refuge in Him.

Why do the nations rage
and the peoples plot in vain?
The kings of the earth set themselves,
and the rulers take counsel together,
against the Lord and against his Anointed, saying,
“Let us burst their bonds apart
and cast away their cords from us.”

He who sits in the heavens laughs;
the Lord holds them in derision.
Then he will speak to them in his wrath,
and terrify them in his fury, saying,
“As for me, I have set my King on Zion, my holy hill.”

I will tell of the decree:
The Lord said to me,
   “You are my Son;
   today I have begotten you.
   Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage,
   and the ends of the earth your possession.
   You shall break them with a rod of iron
   and dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.”

Now therefore, O kings, be wise;
be warned, O rulers of the earth.
Serve the Lord with fear,
and rejoice with trembling.
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.

—Psalm 2 (ESV)

The Dogmatician: Revelation Is the Revelation concerning Revelation

A true concept of revelation can be derived only from revelation itself. If no revelation ever took place, all reflection on the concept is futile. If, however, revelation is a fact, it and it alone—must furnish us the concept and indicate to us the criterion we have to apply in our study of religions and revelations. —Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics

A Silence Louder than Our Shouts (Matthew 27:11-26)

At Christ’s trial we shouted, but Jesus’ silence shouted louder. Some think that Matthew has birthed such anti-Semitic atrocities as the holocaust with Matthew 27:25; “His blood be on us and on our children.” But if you’re reading Matthew rightly you’re aware that Jesus alone is righteous and everyone else is guilty. You know you’re meant to see yourself as Peter, as Judas, as the priests, as Pilate, and as the crowds. Stuart Townend has taught us to sing well:

Behold the Man upon the cross
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers

The cry for a savior of our own choosing is a sin we’re all guilty of (Romans 1:22-25). And we not only want our own savior, we want the Savior crucified. “Before we can begin to see the cross as something done for us (leading to faith and worship),” John Stott tells us, “we have to see it as something done by us (leading to repentance).” Don’t just see Jesus’ rejected here, see your rejection. Don’t just see Jesus hated, see your hatred. Don’t just see the clearest and greatest display of human sin here, see your sin. Don’t just see the Savior you need, see why you need a Savior. Our sin cries, “give us our idols, let Him be crucified.”

Hear your cries loudly, and then hear Christ’s silence thunder over them and drown them out. Pilate heard only an echo, but for the saints Christ’s cross is sin-deafening. Jesus’ silence didn’t simply surprise Pilate, it left him “greatly amazed.” There was a noble calmness; a majestic dignity in it. Rebels have long tried to claim Jesus’ image, but Jesus isn’t bucking authority. He is demonstrating a higher one.

So Pilate said to him, ‘You will not speak to me? Do you not know that I have authority to release you and authority to crucify you?’ Jesus answered him, ‘You would have no authority over me at all unless it had been given you from above. Therefore he who delivered me over to you has the greater sin (John 19:10–11 ESV).’

Don’t lose the regality of Jesus that is shining through the darkness of His suffering. Don’t lose what Jesus is doing for man for what man is doing to Jesus. Jesus isn’t just passively suffering. He is actively sacrificing. In his excellent book, The Cross He Bore, Frederick Leahy captured the loudness of Jesus’ silence well.

All too often Christ’s silence has been given a dangerous one-sidedness, as his passive obedience is stressed almost, if not altogether, to the exclusion of his active obedience. Christ’s silence was deliberate, emphatic and authoritative: it was his deed. The passivity of his suffering was real, but so was the activity of his obedience. Led as a lamb to the slaughter and like a sheep dumb before the shearers, he was active right up to and on the cross. He went as a king to die.

It was not the shouting priests who ruled the events of that day, but the silent great High Priest who was offering Himself as a sacrifice for sins.

There is a gloomy irony in Pilate’s actions on this day. He tries to wash the blood off his hands, but he cannot. The only thing sufficient to wash Jesus’ blood off Pilate’s hands and ours, is the very blood he is trying to wash off. The cross is the ultimate expression of our sinfulness. We can’t wash that off, but we can wash in it. For all who trust in Christ, His silent salvation thunders over our shouting sinfulness.

The Dogmatician: The Bread Science Can’t Engineer

And, further, the numerous manifestations of superstition evident today demonstrate that humankind cannot live by the bread of science alone but need every word that comes from the mouth of God. Indeed, science does not tell us what God is or what humanity is; it leaves us ignorant of the origin, essence, and goal of things. It can therefore never replace religion, nor ever compensate for its loss. —Herman Bavink, Reformed Dogmatics

Pronouncing Repentance Correctly (Matthew 27:1-10)

The word used to describe Judas’ “repentance” is slightly different from the normal one. It has the same prefix, but a different suffix. It begins the same, but ends differently. Herein is a parable.

The camera that is intensely focused on Jesus’ trial and crucifixion pans away only twice; in both instances the focus is the failure of one of His disciples. You’re meant to contrast the two. Together, Peter and Judas are the best illustration of 2 Corinthians 7:10, “For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death.” Douglas Wilson once tweeted, “As you contemplate repentance, be sure to distinguish ice shattering and ice melting.” Judas was shattered, but he was still ice. He was still cold. He was still hard. Peter was melted. Peter changed. Peter repented. Repentance does mean brokenness, but only brokenness coupled with warm faith.

Judas’ repentance is like that of Esau, Pharaoh, and Saul. It is, as Spurgeon quipped, “a repentance that needed to be repented of.” The prefix was pronounced perfectly, but the suffix was garbled. Pharaoh’s pronunciation of repentance sounded good at first, “This time I have sinned; the LORD is in the right, and I and my people are in the wrong. Plead with the LORD, for there has been enough of God’s thunder and hail. I will let you go, and you shall stay no longer (Exodus 9:27-38),” but he muddled the rest of the word, “But when Pharaoh saw that the rain and the hail and the thunder had ceased, he sinned yet again and hardened his heart, he and his servants. So the heart of Pharaoh was hardened, and he did not let the people of Israel go, just as the LORD had spoken through Moses (Exodus 9:34-35).”

In Judas, Esau, Pharaoh, and Saul we see sorrow, conviction, grief, and remorse, but we do not see repentance, and one way in which we do not see repentance is that we do not see faith. Repentance turns from sin, to Christ. Judas ran to the priests seeking to make things right. If he had the eyes of faith, he would have cried out to the only one who could make things right. Instead of trying to pay back, He would have looked to the one who was paying. Instead of finding priests who care nothing for his troubled conscience, he would have found the great High Priest who alone could purify his conscience (Hebrews 9:14). Worldly grief leads to death. When you are truly aware of your sins, if you have not faith in Christ, your only other option is the deepest despair. Hung on a tree, Judas was cursed by God (Deuteronomy 21:22-23).

And here is where another, surprising, but comforting contrast pops out at us. We are not merely to compare Peter and Judas, but Jesus and Judas. Two men would hang on a tree this day. Both would be cursed of God. But whereas Judas was cursed for his own sins, Jesus was cursed for the sins of others. “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree (1 Peter 2:24).”

Let your despair, let your sorrow, let your guilt drive you to a tree, to a place of execution, to a cursed place of darkness, to a place of wrath and judgment. And may it be your sins upon that tree, but may it not be you. May it be Christ. Look to the cross of Christ and you will see both the ugliness of your sins, and the beauty of redemption. This is the only sight that can produce true repentance, because it is the only sight that can produce true faith.

Tolle Lege: Fear Not!

Readability: 1

Length: 94 pp

Author: Ligon Duncan

When we ignore death, we ignore God. God is the doer of death. When we ignore death, we ignore Jesus. Jesus is the defeater of death. Death is an enemy, and death is defeated. To ignore death is to ignore the sinfulness of sin, and the greatness of salvation. If you are afraid to think about death, Ligon Duncan will help you in Fear Not! by answering five simple questions.

What is death?
What happens after death?
What happens when Christ returns?
What is heaven?

There is also a chapter on the final judgment. If you are looking for a deep treatment of these topics look elsewhere. But if you are fearful of death and need some pastoral help that is mercifully brief, this is an excellent book.

Death is too deadly for us. But when Jesus Christ conquered death and robbed it of its sting, He enabled every believer to pass through death—the last enemy—into glory.

In my sinful moments—and I stress my sinful moments, because every true believer knows that God is good—there is no doctrine that I want to be untrue more than the reality of hell. I wish I could say that this doctrine is not true. But hell is the fairest reality in this world.

If you want unfairness, if you want discrimination, I can give you that.That is called heaven by grace. Heaven by grace is the most unfair doctrine imaginable. Sinners deserving condemnation get heaven forever because the One who was without sin became sin for their reconciliation.That is unfair, but hell is the fairest doctrine in the world.

WTS Books: $9.89 Amazon:$9.81

The Dogmatician: God Is Not Indifferent to Anything

Religious indifferentism assumes that it is immaterial to God how he is served. It deprives him of the right to determine the manner of his service; in any case it postulates that God has not prescribed the manner of his service. …Factually and objectively, however, nothing is indifferent, neither in nature, nor in the state, nor in science and art. All things, even the most humble, have their specific place and meaning in the context of the whole. Human beings are indifferent only to what they do not, or do not sufficiently, know: they automatically assess and appreciate what they do know. God, who knows all things, is not indifferent to anything. —Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics

Mogwai and Gremlins

This post was originally published August 21, 2008

Alas, a generation has arisen that is ignorant of Mogwai and Gremlins. Mogwai are cute, furry, little, innocent creatures. There are only three rules concerning them:

Don’t let them near bright light. It kills them.
Don’t get them wet. They multiply; the more wet the more Mogwai. Upon multiplying their cute, innocent disposition is done away with.
Don’t feed them after midnight. They then go into a cocoon stage and morph into Gremlins .

Sins are like Mogwai. Initially we think they are cute. We play with them, tickle them, laugh at them. They become our companions. But Mogwai always end up producing ugly Gremlins, the kind of sins that devastate us. We are walking along thinking we are doing so great spiritually because of all our “I do not’s”, and sudenly a Gremlin sin pops up and we’re stunned wondering “where did that come from?” John Owen advised, “Be killing sin or it will be killing you.” The law of sin is always at work in us, it never sleeps; we must be ever mortifying, always realizing its seriousness, never putting our spiritual gear in neutral. We must expose our sins to the light (note: sunlight kills both Mogwai and Gremlins) and extend them no mercy however cute they may seem.