Jesus came to tear down the old temple and raise it up as a new, transformed temple (Jn 2.19ff.). In order to do this, he had to ascend through the temple fulfilling all of its types and shadows. The completion of this work was his glorification in the Holy of Holies, which, as it turns out involved the cross and the tomb. The glory of the only begotten was veiled behind a stone that enclosed him in a tomb.
On Sunday morning, the glory departed.
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In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth in the space of six days. On the seventh day, he rested. The Sabbath was a time of enthronement in which God enjoyed his work. Man, created as the image of God, was to follow God’s pattern of creative work in six days followed by a day of enthronement rest. After six days of work, man was called to ascend with God to be enthroned with him and enjoy the fruits of his labor with God.
The purpose of man’s labor was to develop the world so that it looked like God’s heavenly throne room. As man’s work progressed, God drew nearer, drawing heaven and earth together at the Tabernacle and, eventually, the Temple. God’s throne was established in the Holy of Holies, above the cherubim who sat atop the ark of the covenant (2Kg 19.15). This was the footstool of God’s throne, uniting heaven and earth. This was God’s resting place (2Chr 6.41). In worship each Sabbath day, man ascended to the throne of God through the mediation of animals, grain, oil, and fragrances, there to enjoy Sabbath rest, celebrating the work of the previous six days.
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One perspective from which to read John’s Gospel is to follow Jesus as he walks through the Temple. Throughout his life, death, and resurrection, Jesus is ending the old Temple system by fulfilling its purpose.
John’s purpose in this is fairly clear from the beginning. The eternal Word who dwelt with God and was God “became flesh and tabernacled among us, and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth” (Jn 1.14). Jesus equates his own body with the Temple, telling the Jews to destroy it, and he will raise it up in three days (Jn 2.19).
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John 12:12-26 A Series of Unexpected Events
Looking at the Apostle John’s account of the events leading up to and playing out on Palm Sunday, we see the tension between promise and expectation take center stage. More specifically, we see the contrast between the kingdom of heaven as a seed being planted and soon to spring up from the ground as a plant with unstoppable growth and glory, and the kingdoms of the earth withering and fading in their last gasps of life.
The people had the promises of Yahweh, and they had their expectations of how those promises would be fulfilled- power and dominion, freedom and blessing, glory and honor. How was this King riding into Jerusalem during the Passover celebration different from all other Kings and rulers before him? How would He not only challenge but far exceed their short-sighted expectations of the Messiah?
To answer that question, let me take you to a parable given in the book of Judges, then use it to draw some application for us as we look toward Palm Sunday.
Judges 9:7-15 The Parable of Trees
Gideon had been the Lord’s anointed to deliver Israel from the hands of her enemies; to rescue her once again from tyranny and oppression. And he proved to be a true champion for much of his life. But rather than continuing to be a picture of God’s faithfulness and particular love for his people, Gideon sinned by taking for himself many wives. And these many wives gave him 70 sons.
James Jordan, in his excellent commentary on Judges, points out the significance of the number 70. It is a number often used to represent the nations of the world. Right away we see that something about this story is bigger than it first appears.
Following the death of Gideon, it is a man named Abimelech that rises to the occasion. He offers himself as a would-be king for the people. a And he offers up the lives of the 70 sons of Gideon as a “small” sacrifice to have such a worldly king as himself.
For, you see, Abimelech was a son born to Gideon from his concubine in Shechem. He is somebody who gives the people exactly what they want. They get the best of both worlds. He is of the people of God and he is also of the people of Baal. It is his connection to the Canaanites that he appeals to for why they should make him ruler.
It should be no surprise that the people agree to this. Worldly people always hunger for worldly authority over them. Those who have first given themselves over to the tyranny of the devil will inevitably return, like a dog to its vomit, again and again to oppression and slavery.
In verse 2, Abimelech says, “Which is better for you, that seventy men, all sons of Jerubbaal (Baal-fighter), rule over you, or that one man rule over you?” Remember the words of Caiaphas, the High Priest, in John 11? “It is expedient for you that one man die for the people and that the whole nation not perish.” b
The nation of Israel turns away from a Baal-fighter to a Baal-compromiser. They turn away from their faithful Husband, the One who protects them, fights for them, blesses them. Instead, they play the harlot for trinkets. They trade shelter for slavery.
Abimelech climbs the stage so that all the world can see what worldly dominion looks like. Power and glory are taken, not received. Authority is not a gift given in order to serve, but a claimed right to be served. Kings do not lay down their lives for the good of the people. The people become the necessary sacrifices for the good of kings.
Again, Jordan’s commentary is helpful here. He notes the significance of human sacrifice in this story and how it describes so well the kingdoms of this world. As nations of men have raged against Yahweh, it has always been accompanied by human sacrifice (Remember, altars of sacrifice can take many forms). Rebellion against God is never a bloodless revolution.
When man sets himself up as King, it is his law that is broken by others, his justice that must be met, his wrath that must be satisfied, his enemies that must be crushed beneath his feet. And this is bloody work, indeed!
Only one of Gideon’s sons escapes slaughter. Jotham then ascends upon a hill and addresses the people with this parable of trees. Below are a few observations from the parable.
8 The trees once went out to anoint a king over them, and they said to the olive tree, ‘Reign over us.’
The trees are looking for a king from among them rather than acknowledging the King above them. They want someone like them.
9 But the olive tree said to them, ‘Shall I leave my abundance, by which gods and men are honored, and go hold sway over the trees?’
Olive trees produce the oil of anointing. They serve to honor others, to make others shine, to give glory not take it. They see no glory in vain waving over others.
10 And the trees said to the fig tree, ‘You come and reign over us.’ 11 But the fig tree said to them, ‘Shall I leave my sweetness and my good fruit and go hold sway over the trees?’
Fig trees produce sweetness and fruitfulness in the land. They produce their fruit in its season for the pleasure of others. They offer up themselves to revive and sustain and strengthen. They have no time for vain waving over others.
12 And the trees said to the vine, ‘You come and reign over us.’ 13 But the vine said to them, ‘Shall I leave my wine that cheers God and men and go hold sway over the trees?’
Vines produce grapes for good wine. This wine brings joy to others. It cheers the heart of man as it is crushed, fermented, and flows freely. It delights the heart of God as it is poured out in worship. They have no desire for vain waving over others.
14 Then all the trees said to the bramble, ‘You come and reign over us.’
Then there are the brambles. Now here we have a willing candidate. Brambles are the growth of the fall. Brambles are the product of rebellious seed. They give neither sweetness nor shade. They neither satisfy nor shelter. Here now is the vanity of all earthly rule. Here now is why every earthly kingdom and every worldly king will fall short.
15 And the bramble said to the trees, ‘If in good faith you are anointing me king over you, then come and take refuge in my shade, but if not, let fire come out of the bramble and devour the cedars of Lebanon.’
To serve a bramble king is to either become satisfied with the “shade” it provides among thorns, or find yourself consumed in its power. A bramble fire can destroy the tallest cedar.
Some Application for Today
Here is our problem. Every time we give in to temptation, when we embrace the promises of sin, we are asking brambles to do what only the true King can do.
Every time we see other people as merely a means to get what we want or an obstacle getting in the way of what we want, we are not imitating the King who redeemed us. We are becoming bramble kings ourselves.
But when we are trusting and following Christ as King, we will be like…
Olive trees. We will serve to honor others, to make others shine. We will give up our lives that others might receive glory and blessing.
Fig trees. We will be fruitful in the land. We will bear fruit in each season of life and sweetness will flow from us even in the midst of sorrow and suffering. The fruit that the Spirit produces in our lives will revive, sustain, and strengthen others.
Vine branches. We will present our bodies as living sacrifices unto the Lord. We will be crushed and pressed so that wine may flow from us as a drink offering for the joy of others and the pleasure of God.
I found myself on my hands and knees in the backyard this afternoon after noticing, through the loving reminders from my wife, that the yard had begun to be overrun with weeds and thorns. I’m not a fan of yard work and it didn’t help that I decided to cease any such work a few weeks early before the beginning of winter last year. On top of this, my family lives in a city that has seen better days. Scattered throughout the downtown area are houses abandoned either due to unpaid debts or drug and alcohol abuse. One such house is right next door to us, and our backyards are only separated by a small fence. This doesn’t help our weed and thorn situation.
As I was walking throughout the yard scanning for trash, broken bottles, and needles (as is my habit after a winter season in an opioid ravaged area), I noticed that I couldn’t call this a yard anymore. It seemed to me that any remaining grass had been dwarfed by the weeds and thorny plants that have crept in from that other yard. It couldn’t be my fault! Of course, it was my fault. My lack of effort to prepare the yard for the winter season meant I’d inherit a plot of land in need of extra attention come spring time. Now, I’m reaping what I sowed.
After about an hour or so, I began to find myself crawling about through the yard yanking and pulling up weeds, chopping down some overgrown brush along the fence line, and picking up the trash of those weary travelers who loiter in the alley behind my property. As my hands combed through the soil, I couldn’t help but think of our father Adam formed from the dust of the ground. I thought of the original garden free from thorn and thistle, from sin and death. I thought of Adam’s job to have dominion over the earth and subdue it, and of our Lord Jesus who had come to complete what the first Adam could not. It is no accident that our Lord was mistaken for a gardener after His resurrection (John 20:15).
Adam wasn’t formed by dust alone, but by the mist that covered the ground and the Spirit breathed into his nostrils. Adam was formed by fertile ground. Like a tree planted by streams of water, Adam was formed from the fertile and watered soil of God’s pristine creation. This land had not yet sprouted thorns or weeds. Ironically, the very good creation of Man ended up becoming the one by whom sin and death entered into the world.
“Cursed is the ground because of you… thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you.” (Gen. 3:7b, 8a ESV)
I remember seeing a photo, which I can’t seem to find now, of a Catholic priest lifting a boulder with the quote, “So many rocks, just like my sins,” below it. I felt that way, though not nearly as strong, as I was on my knees pulling weeds out of my yard. “So many weeds, just like my sins.” The garden that is my life is often filled with weeds in need of plucking and brush for burning. After all, if we say we have no sin in us, we deceive ourselves.
But plucking weeds and thorn-covered plants isn’t easy or painless work. If your hands aren’t used to the job, you get blisters; your non-calloused hands can’t handle the rough plants and sharp thorns. In a similar fashion, if we have no routine of pulling up the roots of sin in our own lives, when we eventually get around to it our hands are no match for the strength and roughness of the plant, and it hurts far greater than it would if we had just dealt with the sapling rather than the tree.
Though gardens (or yards) are not meant to be neglected, they also shouldn’t be closed off to those around you. The real tragedy of my yard full of thorns and weeds is not that it looks bad or that I may get bad looks from neighbors. The real tragedy is that it can’t be shared with others. Our Lord Jesus often used the imagery of wheat and tares. The tares were to be plucked up and burned while the wheat was to be reaped and gather into barns. This imagery was to give us a picture of the righteous and unrighteous, but who is that wheat for? The seeds sown by the Son of Man in Matthew 13 are the sons of the kingdom (Christians) and the field is the world, but seeds grow into wheat and wheat into bread. And that bread is for whom? Just as Jesus gave His life for the world, those who are united to Him must give up their lives for others. Ultimately, our lives, our gardens, are not our own.
Those weeds may not be choking a row of wheat in my backyard, but they are most certainly stifling the giggles and imagination of my children. They are silencing the wonderful conversations with friends and family that could be shared around a grill or fire pit during long summer evenings. True gardening is harsh and laborious work. True gardening is getting on your hands and knees in order to sow blood, sweat, and tears for the life of others around you. Following the True Gardener, we too must do the hard work of dying to ourselves for the joy of everyone else.
So, as I pull on these weeds and fight these thorns, I’m reminded that this garden reflects what my life often can and does look like. A life that is inhospitable to others, full of touchy subjects and overgrown sins. Instead of letting that sin grow, it is my responsibility to uproot it. My hands may bleed and my knees may get sore, but that work is for a far more important purpose than just a clean yard; it’s for the joy of others. And though killing sin humbles me and pains me, it must be done. For our Lord Jesus took upon His head the thorny crown of sin for the joy of the world. If He did that for us, what’s a little gardening for others?
Imagine a lawyer sitting down to write about the laws of the United States. She knows it is an impossibly broad task to sum up the vast expanse of federal law, but she wants to express to the reader that the laws of the United States are, in the main, right and just. Suppose also, that she chooses to address her writing to the “United States” personified, and she writes in the mode of a modern panegyric.
Even under these eccentric circumstances, can we imagine her writing something like, “Oh that my ways may be steadfast in keeping your statutes! Then I shall not be put to shame, having my eyes fixed on all your commandments . . . With my
If she did, she would feel very alone if she had done much reading in her subject. Many legal treatises and law journal articles have passed dully over my eyes and none of them extol the law in this way. Even lawmakers, when they’re introducing a bill they’re sponsoring, do not speak of their proposed law in such terms. The most enthusiastic supporter of civil rights would not praise the Civil Rights Act of 1964 in this way. At their best, such laws are expedient, or practical, or groundbreaking, or necessary. They are never wondrous, wonderful, sure, true, or righteous.
(more…)The Scriptures have a deep simplicity to them. They feed and nourish us from the first reading to the 100th. I understood this more vividly once I began reading and teaching the Bible to children. Not only are their little hearts warmed and their little minds enlarged in child-like faith, but so often is my own heart and mind strengthened by familiar ground revisited time and time again. These are ancient paths that become sweeter and richer with time.
The Psalms especially display this characteristic because they are not only meant to be read and studied and meditated on, but they are meant to be sung. What an incredible reality that we can simultaneously plumb the depths and exalt to the heights its glorious truths and do so with one voice alongside my children, the aged saints, and the young in faith. These are ancient songs that resonate with old and young alike.
While I was working through Psalm 46 some time ago preparing a sermon, these thoughts were ruminating through my mind; and there were three “notes”, three observations that struck a chord with me and seemed to set the tune for this wonderful song of war and peace.
The first note we hear is the blessedness that comes from God’s immutability. This simply means that God does not change. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. a This Psalm appears to have been written with a particular historical event in mind in the life of Israel. There are a couple of different opinions as to what event that might have been, but there’s no doubt that it was at a time of great uncertainty and danger for the nation as a whole.
The Psalmist begins by saying, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” (v.1) The only way he could say that with confidence is to have fixed in his mind the firm belief that God Himself does not change; there is no shadow of turning with Him. The Psalmist looks back at what was and proclaims in the present what is. To serve an unchanging God is to elevate history beyond mere curiosity or cautionary tale or nostalgic recollection. History becomes one of the means by which God encourages and instructs His people. This is why a rejection of the worship of God eventually ends with a rejection of the importance and continuity of history.
For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. – Romans 15:4-5 ESV
The second note we hear is the blessedness that comes from God as creator. Like so many others, this Psalm makes use of nature imagery like earth, mountains, rivers, and seas. Unfortunately, we live in a time that makes it very hard to appreciate the significance of this. C.S. Lewis, in his book, Reflections on the Psalms, is insightful and helpful on this point.
He explains that acknowledging the One true God as the creator of all things brings a separation between the Creator and creation that releases Nature from being divine and frees her up to be a symbol of the Divine. Let me give you Lewis’ own words.
“To say that God created Nature, while it brings God and Nature into relation, also separates them. What makes and what is made must be two not one. Thus the doctrine of creation in one sense empties Nature of divinity…But in another sense the same doctrine which empties Nature of her divinity also makes her an index, a symbol, a manifestation, of the Divine.”
In other words, only when the “created” speaks for and points to the “Uncreated” can it find its fullest expression and meaning. So earth, mountains, and seas are both real created things and instruments through which God reveals a greater reality, a more lasting reality. Thus, the song of the Psalmist establishes us as in the world but not of it. It is a Christianity that is earthy but not earthly.
The third and final note is the blessedness that comes from God as covenantal. We not only have a God who is immutable, and a God who is eternal, but we also have a God who is relational. And this covenantal relationship between the eternal God and his chosen people is the very thing that enables the Psalmist to say “[Because] God is our refuge and strength…therefore, we will not fear…” (v.1,2) The LORD is most wonderfully our LORD and we are His people. It establishes the connection between how we live and who God is. Our hearts can then be tuned to fill in the blanks with absolute hope, “Because God is _________, therefore, we (as His people) will _________.”
Let these notes resonate in our hearts and minds as we study and sing the Psalms. We serve the Lord of history, the Lord of life, and the Lord of love, and He is bringing us in harmony with Himself and one another.
Psalm 50:3: Our God comes
and will not be silent.
God’s judgment is a great comfort for the Christian. God’s voice is a great comfort for the Christian. In this Lent, we need to give thanks to God for not allowing the monologue of evil to triumph. In God’s world, the voice from heaven shuts the voice from hell. The crucifixion appeared to be a sign that finally God’s voice was silenced by the seed of the serpent. But Easter’s voice came like a thunderous proclamation and declared once and for all: Our God comes and will not be silent. Lent prepares our voices to join in the chorus of the empty tomb.
On a daily basis around the world, Christians are praying as our Lord taught us, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” But what is it, exactly, that we are praying for?
We know from numerous places in Scripture that God sovereignly reigns over all things. There is never a moment in time in which God does not sustain every molecule in the universe by the word of his power (Heb 1.3). As Nebuchadnezzar confessed,
for his dominion is an everlasting dominion, and his kingdom endures from generation to generation; all the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, and he does according to his will among the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand or say, “What have you done?” (Dan 4.34b-35)
Nothing at any time in history changes this kingship.
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Kuyperian Commentary Podcast
