Just so we're clear...

(a type of worship)

Basilica

It is historically documented.  It is intellectual folly to deny that a first century, Palestinian Jew by the name of

     Jesus

was crucified by the Roman government.  There is no scholarly debate: Jesus was a man.  Fully, completely, no-way-around-it, human, male.  This man, worshiped over 2,000 years later, could not then, nor ever have been a woman.

As a man, Jesus was a Jew.  He was raised in an orthodox Jewish home.  He practiced the Jewish religion (yep, I said that Jesus was religious.  Which, in the anthropologistic and historical sense implies that he practiced his religion…, well, religiously).  He followed the Mosaic Law to the letter.  Not one iota was ignored, not one minutia disobeyed.  His lineage was carefully documented to prove that he was the answer to eons of prophecy.  He was educated in the Hebraic traditions and scriptures; and he observed all the festivals and Sabbaths as one who understood their true purpose.  He taught with authority and corrected the misunderstandings of the mortals he came to save.  Of the Israelite leaders, he expected much.  To those on the fringe or outside the faith, he offered a way in.         

Jesus hung out with sinners and outcasts; ate with them, walked with them, talked and laughed and wept with them.  He saved them; he forgave them; he loved them.

                HE WAS NOT ONE OF THEM.

Jesus was Divine.  Before the universe was formed, before humans drew breath, before time began and after time ends he will continue to be always and forever Divine.  One with the Father and Holy Spirit in perfect and complete communion. 

Jesus came to earth, while sinners were sinning, to rescue humans who didn’t know they needed saving.  He died in the stead of every sinner who ever was or ever will be.  But only,
     Only
if the sinner chooses to trade his or her wickedness for Jesus’ all-encompassing righteousness.  To trade their own, impending and eternal torment, for his atoning death on the cross.  This choice is always in the heart of the sinner.  Like a marriage proposal, anyone can accept or reject this love.  Unlike a proposal, this love is offered every moment of every life.  Until the moment when life is over.  Or until that soul grows so hard from scratching out a life in the wilderness of death and constant pain, that Jesus [whom I picture weeping bitterly, as he did over Jerusalem just prior to his crucifixion] says to that sinner, “your will be done.” 

To be completely clear, Jesus was everything the Holy Scriptures say he was.  Jesus, the Promised Savior, the Only Son of the Almighty God, will never be a sinner.  He came to save sinners.  He died to redeem sinners.  He lives to give Love to sinners.  If we would but accept it.    

He was, in a specific and tangible and documented portion of linear time, God housed in flesh.  He was Eternity in temporal form.  He is the Healer of the broken, Redeemer of the damned.  He is the One who loves each sinner so much that He would trade his life, his oneness with the Eternal Almighty LOVE Itself, for the sake of that one sinner to be welcomed into His Father’s house. 

But He is not to be made in our image.  He is not a domesticated kitten, upon whom we may assert our ideals or morals or compunctions.  Our culture does not dictate, any more than the ancient Hebraic or Hellenistic cultures which comprised his earthly context, his will.  Jesus’ will was always that of the Father.  And the Father’s will does not deviate from scripture.  Regardless of what our favorite authors may tell us.  Or how we feel, as one-third-world dwellers.

Jesus the Christ is the Lion of Judah, who will return not as prophet or pacifist, but as King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  Robes dipped in blood; Warrior for His Father’s kingdom, who will reclaim all that evil has stolen.   And He will win.

For LOVE, true and honest and just LOVE, wins. 

     For His glory and Kingdom and Power are forever.

Amen.

 

 

Please leave a comment below if you have any questions regarding this theology. 

 I am happy to supply scripture references (as well as secular and scholarly). 

John Mark McMillan's "Death In His Grave"

 

 

Enjoying this study?  Here's a link to other articles in this series: The Women Who Knew Jesus

When the rules and the rulers are flouted.

Why did Jesus have to die?

A weighty question from my child’s lips; why, indeed.   The short answer is: because of me.  Because of you, my darling.   Because not any one of us is willing to bend to authority.  We, each, want to be our own kings.  Our own little gods. 

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My kids are good kids.  I’m told that frequently.  And I’m thankful.  But I’m also mindful of the moments when my boundaries are flouted.  My rules aren’t arbitrary, given only to show that I am in charge; that I rule over these little ones.  Don’t-run-into-the-street! Is for the preservation of them, the avoidance of horrific consequences.  It’s so that I, as well as they, don’t have to endure what could follow.   So that they are safe; and we are both unharmed.

The same holds true for us, as adults.  Though we may not like them, even speed limits are for our own good.  It’s likely that we don’t think about that when we’re being handed a much-deserved ticket.  Instead, we go home and slander the uniformed individual who caught us in our disobedience.  Blame them for our actions: that road shouldn’t be so slow.  Why aren’t they out catching murders or pedophiles, instead of ruining my day?  They’re just power-drunk.

Of course, how many of us, the lead-footed, have ever walked through the carnage of a fatal accident?  Seen the disfigured visages of children, or had to notify the next-of-kin?  There is a person inside the uniform, one who carries with him or her the memory of such incidents; one who is haunted by scenes most of us aren’t strong enough to handle. 

And to the world, aren’t God’s rules a bit on the…prohibitive side?  Why can’t we do certain things?  Why wouldn’t a good God want us to enjoy this life as much as possible?  Who is He to tell me not to do something?

And we build little altars for little gods.  I am going to do what I want.  When I want.  How I want.  We tell ourselves that God’s rules are arcane and too prohibitive.  Too colloquial.  Too unintelligent.

Yet, His rules are for our safety, just like mine for my children, the authorities’ for the governed.   He knows what the outcome of our choices are; just like I know what will happen to my children should they dart into the street in front of a car, who is only doing 35 in a 25.  Besides, 25mph is entirely too slow for this street anyway.  I know…, a police officer knows…, God knows the ramifications of our actions.  The awful, unthinkable, damaging consequences that can come from not following the rules.  Even the prohibitive ones.

Prohibition isn’t bad.  Authorities aren’t all evil.  Sometimes they genuinely are there to protect us from ourselves.  To keep us from becoming little gods of our own making.    

And so, Jesus had to die.

For you.  For me.  Because we can’t see the car speeding around the corner as we dart into the street after our ball.  Jesus absorbs the impact for us.  After the fatal wreck caused by our speeding, he trades places with the driver, and allows himself to be placed in the back of the patrol car instead of us.   He exchanges His freedom for ours, our lives for His.  Even though he knew what was coming.  Even though, His Father warned us against these destructive actions; put up boundaries to keep us safe.  Even though we refused to listen.  Refused to obey. 

Jesus offers to save us, in spite of ourselves.  We just have to keep letting Him.     

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