The Fullness of Time

Georg Friedrich Handel’s oratorio, The Messiah, is a staple of the Advent and Christmas season. Presentations abound, especially in a place like New York City. The words sung are a compilation of scriptures that attest to the unfolding narrative of redemption found in the Bible. Between the score and the libretto, the composer produced a powerful artistic expression of what the apostle Paul declares: “when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons” (Galatians 4:4-5). Handel’s Messiah is an ode to “the fullness of time.”

In his own way, Luke, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, by including the events surrounding Jesus’ birth in his “orderly account,” also produced an ode to “the fullness of time.” We learn from him that the birth of Jesus was something planned before the creation of the universe, for he was God’s Son entering into the world in the womb of a virgin. “Born of a woman,” he was the promised seed who would crush the head of the serpent. He was the evidence of God having remembered the covenant he made with Abraham, the one through whom all the families of the earth would be blessed. He was the promised eternal inheritor of David’s throne. He was the one to come out of Bethlehem “who is to be ruler in Israel, whose origin is from of old, from ancient days.” He was the one before whom would go the one sent “in the spirit and power of Elijah . . . to make ready for the Lord a people prepared.” He was the “light for revelation to the Gentiles, and for glory to . . . Israel.” He was the Anointed One, the long-awaited and longed for Messiah.

Having Luke’s “backstory,” there can be no guesswork as to what we are dealing with when he records for us, “Jesus, when he began his ministry, was about thirty years of age . . .” (Luke 3:22). And we understand with greater depth the pronouncement of Christ, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.’’ (Mark 1:15).

Advent 2014: And He Shall Be Called . . . Jesus

The name of Jesus is an ordinary name. It was in wide use during the first century AD. To the Christian, however, it is an extraordinary name. It means “Yahweh saves.” It is the name that the angel told Joseph he should name the child that would be born to Mary, his betrothed: “. . . you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” Jesus is an extraordinary name for it has within it the problem that plagues humanity, the purpose for which Jesus was sent, and the promise that his purpose would be fulfilled.

All people are plagued by the same problem, they are sinners. This is because all human beings have inherited the penchant for defining their existence apart from God. This makes all human beings, in one way or the other, idolators, and idolatry is the root of sin. Idolatry places all human beings under the judgment of God. No one, therefore, escapes the need of a savior; and Jesus came to save his people from their sins.

The merciful reality is that the baby to be born will be named Jesus on purpose. Through his life, death, and resurrection he would accomplish all that was necessary to save his people from the consequences of their idolatry. He would take upon himself our need to fulfill all righteousness, and he would take upon himself the penalty due for our having not fulfilled all righteousness. He is, therefore, aptly named Jesus, “Yahweh saves,” for the purpose for which his heavenly Father sent him was to save his people from their sins.

Lastly, the name of Jesus holds within it a promise. The angel speaks with certainty of the completion of the purpose for which Jesus in named: “you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” Read that statement again. He does not say, “may save,” or “might save,” or “possibly save.” He says Jesus “will save.” The angel can speak with confidence because what is unfolding in the lives of Joseph and Mary is a plan of salvation that was established in the will of God before the universe was even created (see Ephesians 1:3-14).

The name of Jesus is an extraordinary name. Indeed, it is “the name that is above every name,” and the only name “under heaven given among men by which we must be saved” (Philippians 2:9; Acts 4:12).

God Willing, God Willed

As Christians, we often qualify our future plans with a breezy, "God willing." But it's much harder, when our plans don't work out, to say, "God willed." 

I recall theologian R.C. Sproul, while teaching on the sovereignty of God admitting that if knew there was one molecule that was outside of God’s control, he would be terrified. It would mean that God was not God because there was something operating outside of his influence and power. Now, if God were a despot, then the realization that something was outside of his control would be good news. It would mean that there was hope for revolution, a change of regimes! But as God is a loving, wise, just, and merciful father, the knowledge that he is in absolute and total control brings peace. And it should allow us to say, "God willed," as easily as we say, "God willing."

What would it have sounded like to Philemon when Paul suggested that the thievery and flight of his slave, Onesimus, happened as part of some divine plan so that he might be received back by Philemon not as a slave but as a beloved brother? (Cf. Philemon 15-16) His initial evaluation might have been, “NONSENSE!!” But this dance of human will and divine will that Paul alluded to is, in part, what we considered in our church this past Sunday under the term "providence."

Though hard to mentally grasp, we are to know that all of God’s creation is enveloped in his will. All that comes to pass, therefore, is never due to chance, fate, or some other impersonal force. Rather, in the words of the Heidelberg Catechism, God’s ever-present power “rules in such a way that leaves and grass, rain and drought, fruitful and unfruitful years, food and drink, health and sickness, riches and poverty, and everything else, come to us not by chance but by his fatherly hand” (Question 27). If this is true, then even the sin of Onesimus is encompassed within the over-arching will of God. This does not alleviate the sinner of his responsibility, but it does mean that no matter what transpires, God’s will, which is always good, will be done.

Paul’s soaring language in Romans 8 resonates with confidence in divine providence. I urge you to read it, mediate upon it, pray over it, so that you might affirm with him that nothing “in all creation, will be able to separate [you] from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Mysterious, Merciful Providence

Saul was unaware of what was to take place. He was sent by his father to find lost donkeys. Yahweh, however, sent him to find Samuel (1 Samuel 9). This is the nature of providence, the term used to describe God’s continued involvement in and direction of all things. People go about doing what they do; yet it is God who stands behind them directing their steps (Cf. Proverbs 16:9).

If we trust that God is good and wise then we have reason to trust his providence.  He orders things according to his purposes so that his will, which is good and wise, comes to pass. This should be a source of comfort for this means that we are not subject to random, impersonal forces. Quite the contrary, all things, in the words of the Heidelberg Catechism, “come to us not by chance but by his fatherly hand.”

How are we to respond when we are subjected to what the Puritans called, “dark providences”? These are the times when difficulties -- tragedies, even -- disturb our peace. Are we to just grit our teeth and say, “Ah, the Lord’s will be done”? That’s an option, but it’s not our only option. Assuming that there is a wise and good purpose behind what is currently covering the sun, it’s our task to prayerfully experience what that purpose is. It may be that God would have us fight the darkness, and action, even bold action, may be called for. That being said, whatever his purpose, we are to trust that he is in control.

God is at work. God is always at work. Let’s pray for greater discernment that we might see the hand of the Lord in both the extraordinary and the mundane.

Who Can Stand before the Lord?

         The “ark narrative,” from 1 Samuel 4:1b - 7:2, communicates much about the God we confess. What transpires in the account inevitably leads to the question posed by unnamed Israelites, “Who can stand before the Lord, this holy God?”

After losing a battle against the Philistines, the Israelites make the decision to bring into their camp the Ark of the Covenant. This was the box, made according to God’s specific directions, that suggested, in the words of one commentator, God’s “rulership,” the “revelation” of his will, and the “reconciliation” he offered through the ministry of the high priest. The ark was at the center of Israel’s worship and, as such, was closely related to God himself. But the Israelites decision smacked more of sorcery than it did of piety. God showed that he would not be controlled by the schemes of men and the Israelites suffered defeat.

Though the Philistines conquered the Israelites and captured the ark, God declared in no uncertain terms that he would not be conquered. He made a mockery of Dagon, the Philistine’s god, he plagued the people of the Philistine cites, and, finally, he confirmed that, far from being conquered, he was their conqueror by causing the ark to be returned to the Israelites in a manner that proved he was the source of their troubles.

But the return of the Ark to the Israelites revealed one more truth: God is not to be profaned. Several scores of men are struck down for looking upon the ark, something only the priesthood was allowed to do.

It is no wonder, then, that someone would voice the question, desperate in its tone, “Who can stand before the Lord?

The truth of the matter is, no one can. God is holy and not to be trifled with. This is why we desperately need the gospel. The righteousness we lack is revealed in the message that tells of a heaven-sent Savior who propitiates God’s wrath through his loving obedience for all who place their trust in him. Only if we are found to be in Christ are we able to stand before this holy God.

The Intent of History

“Now these things took place as examples for us . . .” 1 Corinthians 10: 6

History has meaning. This is because it has intent: “these things took place as examples . . . ” So we study history with an eye to learning what happened, why it happened, and to what end it happened. That last component would not seem to be part of the secular historians task, but biblically, it is the whole of it: “For of him and through him and to him are all things” (Romans 11:36).

History as captured by the Bible carries a particular burden: it is rarely, if ever, a sterile, objective, dispassionate, recounting of events. Each account saved for us is intended to illustrate what is called the history of redemption: the unfolding fulfillment of the promise made to fallen man in the Garden of Eden, namely, that at the end of history what is meant to be accomplished, will be accomplished, and it will be for good. This biblical recounting of history, which ultimately involves the entire world, is focused on father Abraham and his descendants, for it was decreed that through him a particular man would come who will be shown to be both the catalyst of the story and the culmination of the story -- the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end.

In the mercy of God, we who have been born of God are drawn into this particular story. We are not bystanders, looking from the outside, but participants in God’s redemptive history (Ephesians 2:19), both as beneficiaries and as those who proclaim that history (2 Corinthians 5:20). Additionally, such stories are meant to provoke us to be faithful followers of the Lord of history (Cf. Hebrews 12:1-2).

But even though the story preserved for us in the Bible has particular intent, what is before us remains real history. These are events, while part of the greater work of redemption, that are nevertheless particular to the context and personages involved. We must resist, therefore, making it formulaic. By that I mean, that because something happened in a certain way at one point in biblical history, or because a certain person undertook a particular action, a faithful follower of Jesus should expect to see and do likewise. I am not suggesting any kind of relativism in our extracting meaning from the biblical account, but rather a respectful approach to what is before us that honors the context of what transpired, and looks to understand from that God-directed history what might be understood about our own God-directed history. The God, who ruled with sovereignty over history then, still rules over history today.