The High Dive of Pride (Matthew 26:31-35, 69-75)

Sin is never content. It cannot be contained. Thinking you can keep that one “little” sin as a pet is like trying to chain King Kong or keep you own Jurassic Park in your soul. The chains won’t hold. John Owen put it this way,

Sin aims always at the utmost; every time it raises up to tempt or entice, might it have its own course, it would go out to the utmost sin of its kind.  Every unclean thought or glance would be adultery if it could; every covetous desire would be oppression, every thought of unbelief would be atheism, might it grow to its head.

Sin is a food that when you feast on it, it devours you. It creates an appetite for itself that it cannot fill. Lewis captured this with Turkish Delight.

At last the Turkish Delight was all finished and Edmund was looking very hard at the empty box and wishing that she would ask him whether he would like some more. Probably the Queen knew quite well what he was thinking; for she knew, though Edmund did not, that this was enchanted Turkish Delight and that anyone who had once tasted it would want more and more of it, and would even, if they were allowed, go on eating it till they killed themselves. But she did not offer him any more.

Sin is the chugging of poison because it tastes good. When this kind of language is used of sin, what kind of sins pop into your mind. I bet you’re thinking of lust, covetousness, or something of the like. Does Peter’s pride register on the radar? How about his unbelief in Jesus’ words? Do you think lust more toxic than pride? Do you think covetousness more addictive than unbelief in Scripture?

Every son of Adam is an expert make-up artist. Even us guys. Every one of us make the pros at Hollywood look like a 4 year old who got into her mom’s vanity. They start with beauty and add to it. It takes real talent to made sin look “good”. We can even make sin appear so holy and pious. Sin can sound like, “Jesus, I’ll never deny you. Even if I have to die with you.”

Sin is like Sauron’s ring. We’re even tempted that we can use it for good. But sin’s wages are always death. Sin is a cursed sword that cannot be wielded for good save by God alone—and then it is never that God makes good of a sin He commits, for He never sins, but of sin that we commit.

Spiritual pride is God-belittling, and soul-destroying. You cannot wield it to build the kingdom. That sword is too big. Put it down now before you really hurt yourself. A fall of Peter’s magnitude begins with a stumble. Before Peter fell by shamefully denying, he was lifted up in pride, and it was the lifting that led to the falling. Pride is climbing up the high dive to do some impressive acrobatics only to spend the last moments flailing wildly as you realize there is no water in the bottom of the pool. Pride is doing some perfect 10 flips only to splat as a zero on the concrete.

Pride is the sin underlying all sin. It’s aim: to be god. You can’t. Someday you will fall. The higher you climb, the bigger the splat.

The Dogmatician: No Revelation Means No Religion

There is no religion without revelation. Scripture too derives subjective religion from revelation (Heb.1:1). It is, for that matter, perfectly natural that religion and revelation consistently go together and are most intimately connected. For if religion really contains a doctrine of God and of his service, it is self-evident that God alone has the right and ability to say who he is and how he wants to be served. “It is not the part of men to establish and shape the worship of God, but, having been handed down by God, it is for them to receive and maintain.”* 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. —Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics

*Helvetic Confession

Triumph Veiled in Travesty (Matthew 26:57-68)

In the midst of this text Jesus’ words bring us back to reality. If you’re muted this trail, if your only using your eyes, you’ll be as blind as the judges were as to what was going on. We walk by faith, not by sight, and faith comes by hearing, and living by faith is not the futile attempt to live a pipe dream.

You may think Jesus is overpowered. You may think Him unfortunately misunderstood. You may think this nothing more than a travesty of justice. But then Jesus speaks. Then you waken and see with the eyes of faith. Then you remember that He is laying down His life and that no one takes it from Him (John 10:18). You recall that He could call twelve legions of angels from His Father and that seriously impairs the force of the word seized (Matthew 26:57). You recollect the many times that Jesus told His disciples He “must go” to Jerusalem. You look back on the many instances during passion week when Jesus has pronounced judgment upon the Jewish leaders and understand they’re the ones being judged.

If you see here a travesty of justice more than you see a triumph for our justification—read again. There is indeed a travesty of justice here, but Jesus veiled our justification in His travesty. Don’t miss the beauty beneath the veil. Because of Jesus, God will be as just in justifying sinners, as men were sinful in condemning the Righteous One. This text does show us what sinful men do to the holy Christ, but it also shows us what the holy Christ does for sinful man. Because of Jesus’ words, we remember that the only reason we see man being able to do this to Christ, is because Christ chose to do this for man.

The Dogmatician: Unperturbable Happiness

The big question in religion is always: what must I do to be saved? In religion, what people pursue is something no lust or sensual pleasure, no science or art, no human or angel, something not even the whole world can give them: unperturbable happiness, eternal life, communion with God. But if this is the case, then again revelation is absolutely necessary; revelation, then, has to be the foundation of religion. —Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics

When a Ladybug “Captures” a Rhinoceros (Matthew 26:47-56)

If you read of Jesus’ arrest and betrayal and whimper, “Oh, poor Jesus,” instead of exclaiming, “Wow what a Savior!” you’ve missed the plot. Injustice abounds but that doesn’t nullify God’s sovereignty. Jesus walks to the cross; He isn’t dragged.

The bad guys come with swords and clubs to the one who calmed a tempest with words. They might as well have come with pom-poms and feather dusters. There is no possible equalizer they could’ve had in hand; no weapon of mass destruction that would’ve leveled the playing field. These are mice with twigs in hand thinking they can take the Lion. Judas’ kiss was no kryptonite and seizing Jesus is more silly than handcuffing Superman. This is like a Ladybug clinging to rhinoceros and saying, “gotcha,” and then rejoicing because the rhino happens to be going where the ladybug desired.

Peter is as silly as the soldiers. Jesus doesn’t need his sword. More than twelve legions of angels, a force seventy-two-thousand plus strong, could be given by the Father to the Son to command at once. Jesus used a military term to communicate to Peter that the ladybugs don’t steer the rhino. Everything is happening according to the Scriptures. Jesus the suffering Savior is a sovereign suffering Savior.

The willing sufferer will surely be a willing Saviour. The almighty Son of God, who allowed men to bind Him and lead Him away captive, when He might have prevented them with a word, must surely be full of readiness to save the souls that flee to Him. —J.C. Ryle

The Dogmatician: The Target, the Arrow, and the Archer of Truth

The aim of theology, after all, can be no other than that the rational creature know God and, knowing him, glorify God (Prov. 16:4; Rom. 11:36; 1 Cor. 8:6; Col. 3:17). It is his good pleasure to be known by human beings (Matt. 11:25, 26). The object of God’s self-revelation, accordingly, is to introduce his knowledge into the human consciousness and through it again to set the stage for the glorification of God himself. But that divine self-revelation, then, cannot end outside of, before, or in the proximity of human beings but must reach into human beings themselves. In other words, revelation cannot be external only but must also be internal. For that reason a distinction used to be made between the external and the internal principle of knowing, the external and the internal word, revelation and illumination, the working of God’s Word and the working of his Spirit. —Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics

Making Vodka Look Like Toddler Juice (Matthew 26:36-46)

With composure, Jesus speaks to Judas of his betrayal, to the disciples of their abandonment, and to Peter of his denial, but when He speaks to His Father of this cup, He falls on His face. What was in this cup? This cup contained far more than Jesus’ physical sufferings and social abandonment and rejection. It wasn’t the Priests’ fists and spit, the soldiers’ whips and mockery, nor the Roman’s cross that Jesus trembled at, but the Father’s cup. What was in this cup? In a word—hell. Listen to how the Old Testament speaks of this cup.

Thus says the Lord YHWH: “You shall drink your sister’s cup that is deep and large; you shall be laughed at and held in derision, for it contains much; you will be filled with drunkenness and sorrow. A cup of horror and desolation, the cup of your sister Samaria; you shall drink it and drain it out, and gnaw its shards, and tear your breasts; for I have spoken, declares the Lord YHWH. Therefore thus says the Lord YHWH: Because you have forgotten me and cast me behind your back, you yourself must bear the consequences of your lewdness and whoring. — Ezekiel 23:32-35

Thus YHWH, the God of Israel, said to me: ‘Take from my hand this cup of the wine of wrath, and make all the nations to whom I send you drink it. They shall drink and stagger and be crazed because of the sword that I am sending among them.’ So I took the cup from the YHWH’s hand, and made all the nations to whom the YHWH sent me drink it: … ‘Then you shall say to them, “Thus says YHWH of hosts, the God of Israel: Drink, be drunk and vomit, fall and rise no more, because of the sword that I am sending among you.” And if they refuse to accept the cup from your hand to drink, then you shall say to them, ‘Thus says the YHWH of hosts: You must drink!’ —Jeremiah 25:15-28

This was the cup we deserved to drink. This is a cup that makes vodka comparatively like Capri Sun. It is a cup no mere man can stomach. Infinite hell was bottled and poured full into this cup, dregs and all. This cup is full of the wrath of God, 100 proof. This is a drink, only God could live through, but only sinful man should drink.

In hell, souls suffer the righteous wrath of a God they hate. On the cross, Jesus bore the wrath of the Father He loves. How much did Jesus love the Father? So much that He took this cup saying, “your will be done.” The cross indeed shouts God’s love for sinners, but more loudly it screams the Son’s love for the Father. But the pain of the cross was deep to Jesus not just because of His love for the Father, but also because of the Father’s love for Him. When you look at the cross with the resurrection, as you always should, then you see that the cross was part of The Father’s plan to glorify the name of Jesus above all names. It is true that God so loved the world that He gave His Son; it is more true that God so loved His Son that He gave Him the world. One of the glorious mysteries of the cross is that while Jesus was bearing the Father’s wrath for our sins He was simultaneously rendering up an obedience that perfectly pleased the Father. How pleased is the Father by Jesus’ obedience? Your saved! The presence of all us unworthies in heaven eternally enjoying the love of God is the evidence of how much the Father loves the Son. The throngs of heaven from every tribe, people, tongue, and nation are the Father telling the son, “I love you this much.”

But  while on the cross the Son tasted only bitter wrath, so that we might taste sweet salvation. Jesus turns a cup of wrath into a cup of salvation, but He must first drink it and let it come to us through His own veins.

Now He gives to His people ‘the cup of salvation’ (Psalm 116:13) these two cups, one so bitter, the other so sweet, stand side by side: the one cup necessitated the other. One cup was emptied that the other might be filled to overflowing. The first cup guaranteed the second. Both cups are precious and bear the hallmark of sovereign grace. ‘what shall I render to the LORD for all His bounty to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the LORD…’ (Psalm 116:12,13).—Frederick Leahy

Tolle Lege: Live Like a Narnian

NarnianReadability: 1

Length: 161 pp

Author: Joe Rigney

At the conclusion of Prince Caspian, Peter and Susan share with their younger siblings that they won’t be returning to Narnia because they “were getting too old.” Lucy exclaims, “Oh Peter. What awful bad luck. Can you bear it?” “Well I think I can,” said Peter. “It’s all rather different from what I thought. You’ll understand when it comes to your last time.” For the Pevensies, being in Narnia made them better for their world, not the worse. Though I’ve enjoyed the film adaptations, I have to agree with Rigney,  the filmmakers largely don’t get Narnia or Lewis. They need to go back and learn. Rigney, like the Pevensies, hasn’t missed the point. He has been well discipled by Narnia. He is the better for it in this world. You would be the better too for breathing deep of Narnian air. For those who have breathed, and love Narnia, Live Like a Narnian is a superb relishing of those breaths.

But it’s not enough to simply feel something in response to the objective reality of the world. You must also feel rightly and proportionately to the way the world is. …

Following Plato, Lewis believed that we ought to initiate the young into these right responses, even before they are able to rationally understand or explain what they are feeling. The goal of such inculcation of right responses is that, when a child raised in this way grows up and encounters Truth, Goodness, and Beauty, he will welcome them with open arms, because he has been prepared for, and indeed, resembles them already.

Which brings us, finally, to the function of the Narnian stories in Lewis’s vision of education. The Narnian stories display through imaginative fiction and fairy tale the way that the world really is. Here is courage and bravery in its shining glory. Here is honesty and truth-telling in its simplicity and profundity. Here is treachery in all its ugliness. Here is the face of Evil. Here also is the face of Good. A child (or adult) who lives in such stories will have developed the patterns of thought and affection that will be well-prepared to embrace the True, the Good, and the Beautiful (that is, to embrace Jesus Christ) when he finally encounters them (Him!). Like John the Baptist, Lewis and his cast of Narnians will have prepared the way.

 

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The Dogmatician: We Know God because God knows God.

No knowledge of God is possible except that which proceeds from and by God (Matt. 11:27; 1 Cor. 2:10ff). …His self-knowledge and self-consciousness is the source (principium essendi) of our knowledge of him. Without the divine self-consciousness, there is no knowledge of God in his creatures. Pantheism is the death of theology. The relation of God’s own self-knowledge to our knowledge of God used to be expressed by saying that the former was archetypal of the latter and the latter ectypal of the former. Our knowledge of God is the imprint of the knowledge God has of himself but always on a creaturely level and in a creaturely way. The knowledge of God present in his creatures is only a weak likeness, a finite, limited sketch, of the absolute self-consciousness of God accommodated to the capacities of the human or creaturely consciousness. But however great the distance is, the source (principium essendi) of our knowledge of God is solely God himself, the God who reveals himself freely, self-consciously, and genuinely. —Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics

No Recipe Failure (Matthew 26:17-30)

“It’s the holidays; what’s the plan?” Jesus doesn’t respond with a frazzled, “I don’t know, what do you guys think?” Jesus tells them to go into town and that they’ll find a certain man.

The first major conflict of the War of Independence went down in New York. General Washington watched as 400 British ships filled the harbor. Washington was courageous but indecisive. He wasn’t sure where the enemy would strike. He divided his forces against a superior foe and lost. Jesus may be sorrowful over the cup, but He never gives any indicator that He is uncertain about strategy. There isn’t a hint of strategy stuttering, analysis paralysis, or war plan waffling here. Everything is going according to plan.

The disciples make preparations for the Passover, but they are preparing this Passover the way a cooking student would prepare a meal. When the student shows up to class, preparations have been made for their preparation. The recipe, the utensils, the appliances, the ingredients are all there ready for them. The disciples are preparing a Passover meal as part of Jesus’ preparing the Passover meal.

Every Passover up this point was a dress rehearsal with a stand-in cast. The curtain is about to lift on the true one time showing of the climatic act of the drama of the universe. Jesus is both the Host and the Fare of the true passover. He is the Priest who offers up the Lamb, and the Lamb offered up. He has prepared the meal perfectly. There will be no recipe failure. Perfect bread broken for us; perfect wine poured out for us. All according to the recipe.