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Editor’s note:This is the first installment of a series on the Apostles’ Creed. Rev. Campbell Markham is a Presbyterian minister in Perth, Australia.
Most people know that different Christian churches believe different things.
Sometimes this is given as a reason to reject the Christian faith: “Christianity can’t be very believable if not even Christians agree on what they should believe!”
True, Christians disagree about non-core beliefs, such as whether a person should be baptized by immersing them in water or pouring water on them, or whether churches should be governed by local elders or a regional bishop. Other disputes are much more serious: “What is the role of Mary in our worship?” “Does purgatory exist?”
There are, though, certain core beliefs that all Christians have believed for the church’s entire two-thousand-year existence. These beliefs are encapsulated in the Apostles’ Creed, an ancient statement of Christian faith that extends back to at least the second century.
Over the coming months we will examine the Creed one sentence at a time. If you are not a Christian, this will make clear what you must believe to become a Christian, and to enjoy the wonderful blessings of knowing Jesus Christ. If you are already a Christian, then you know that it is always good to go back to the basics.
Article One: “I believe in God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth.”
Read over the whole Creed and you will see that it names three distinct persons as God, who are worthy of all our worship and service: God the Father, God the Son Jesus Christ, and God the Holy Spirit.
Christians believe that there is one God only, and that God has revealed himself as three distinct persons: Father, Son, and Spirit. This is the doctrine of the Trinity, a word which means “three persons in unity.”
Some have dismissed the Trinity as self-contradictory; but although it is difficult to comprehend and explain, there is nothing illogical about one God existing as three persons. You cannot fit the Indian Ocean into a teacup, and we should not be surprised that our finite minds cannot contain and comprehend all that God is.
The first sentence of the Apostles’ Creed echoes the first verse of the Bible, that “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” God created us all; he “knitted us together in our mothers’ wombs” (Ps. 139:13).
We ought to adore and worship God as our Creator. We fulfil the purpose of our existence and are most complete, human, and happy when we do that. Our Creator is an Almighty Father: there are no limits to his power, and he cares for and lovingly governs all that he has created (Deut. 32:6).
The fact that we are upset by disease, violence, and death—that we don’t accept these things as natural—means that we know that God’s perfect creation is somehow broken. In fact, God has cursed and blighted his creation because of sin (Gen. 3)—because we have not obeyed and loved him as we should have.
This sad truth underlies what comes next in the Creed, that God sent “Jesus Christ, His only begotten Son, our Lord,” to die and rise again to redeem this broken world.
Jesus restores our relationship to God. In Jesus, God adopts us as his children so that we may look to him anew as our loving, almighty, and heavenly Dad (Rom. 8:15).
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Jacob should have been happy as he stood at the ford of the Jabbok, at the edge of his homeland after long years away. Instead, he was frightened, “in great fear and distress” (Gen. 32:7; all Scripture passages from NIV).
He saw in the distance Esau, the brother that he had manipulated and ruined. Esau was fast approaching with a battalion of four hundred men. Jacob saw himself butchered and his wives, children, flocks, and herds plundered by his bitter and violent brother.
Jacob was frightened, “and a man wrestled with him till daybreak” (Gen. 32:24).
Jacob was unusually strong—it looks like an epic contest. But as soon as it was clear that the man could not be mastered, his opponent merely touched Jacob’s hip, which crippled him, and said, “Let me go, for it is daybreak” (Gen. 32:26).
This was not as case of, “I beg you to let go of me!” But, “Okay, little child. The game is over, time to let go.”
Jacob, however, just held on tighter. “I will not let you go unless you bless me!”
See the nature of this battle? The man was moving past Jacob, and Jacob gripped him as though for dear life. For this was no ordinary man:
And he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” Then he said, “Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed.” Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. So Jacob called the name of the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered." the sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip. (Gen 32:27-31)
The essence of faith is holding on to God.
Faith is holding on to God. It is not holding on to God as though your life depends on him but because your life depends on him.
The nation of Israel, by its very name, was to be a people who strive with God, and this is no less true for the fulfillment of Israel—the church of Jesus Christ.
It is depressing that faith—so central to Christian thought and life—is at the same time so widely misunderstood. The popular conception is that faith is believing something when there is a lack of evidence, or in spite of the evidence.
So we speak of a “leap of faith.” On this side is evidence—what I know—and on the other side is the thing I’m asked to believe. In between is a yawning gulf of uncertainty and illogicality, a lack of facts and proof and evidence. “Faith” leaps over the gulf with a defiant act of the will.
We don’t have time here to trek to the source of this idea (we would find Barth, Kierkegaard, and Kant waiting for us on the way), but we can say with absolute certainty that this definition of faith, which is more accurately termed credulity, is nowhere to be found in God’s word.
In the Bible, faith is always grounded in facts.
It is a truism that you can’t believe or have faith in someone whom you don’t know about:
“How are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard?” (Rom 10:14)
Many people, however, heard about the resurrection from eyewitnesses, but didn’t agree with those facts. So faith is not just hearing certain facts but also agreeing with them.
Yet, if we stop at agreement, we still fall short of faith because when it comes to God, “Even the demons believe that—and shudder” (James 2:19). The demons know the facts about God and are so convinced that they wet their scarlet lycra at the thought.
Faith is Jacob who knew God and his promises that he would bless him and make him a great nation, believed those promises, and trusted and held on to God for dear life.
Trust is the necessary crowning attribute of faith.
The Puritans helpfully distinguished these three elements of Christian faith with three possibly unhelpful Latin words: notitia, assensus, and fiducia. Notitia is knowing Jesus’ claims to be God’s Savior. Assensus is agreeing, having been compelled by the facts, that Jesus is God’s Savior. (In 1911, B. B. Warfield brilliantly described this “compulsion of belief” in On Faith and its Psychological Aspects.) Fiducia is trusting in God’s Savior Jesus.
Unlike the Puritans, the Bible rarely analyzes saving faith and much more often shows us saving faith in action:
Faith is Noah, obeying God, building an inland ark, and getting inside when he was told to do so (Gen. 7:5).
Faith is Abraham believing God that he would have a son, even when his wife was barren and he was “as good as dead” (Heb. 11:8-12; see also Gen. 18).
Faith is the children of Israel following the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of cloud by night to the Promised Land (Exod. 13:21-22).
Faith is Gideon attacking the Midianites, as numerous as sand on the beach, with his three hundred men with only trumpets and lamps (Judg. 7).
Faith is Ruth swearing to Naomi that “Your people shall be my people, and your God my God” (Ruth 1:16).
Faith is Hannah crying to God for a son (1 Sam. 1:10-11).
Faith is David taking on Goliath with his sling and stone (1 Sam. 17)
Faith is the three Hebrew teens scorning Nebuchadnezzar’s furnace: “If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up” (Dan. 3:17-18).
Faith is Daniel crying out to God for help three times a day in prayer (Dan. 6:10).
Faith is the pagan Magi travelling from afar to worship the baby in Bethlehem (Matt. 2:1-12).
Faith is the bleeding woman reaching out to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe (Matt. 9:20-22).
Faith is the desperate father crying out, “I believe, help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24).
Faith is the thief on the cross, gasping out to Jesus in tortured agony: “Remember me, when you come into your kingdom!” (Luke 23:42).
Faith is knowing, believing, and trusting in Jesus Christ. And there is something energetic, something desperate, about the trust of those who, like Jacob, take hold of their Savior with burning, single-minded tenacity.
Those who love Jesus love to obey Jesus.
How do we identify the faithful? Not just by their words, for many will say “Lord! Lord!” who are disobedient and were never known by Christ (Matt. 7:21-23). Instead, those who love Jesus love to obey Jesus (John 14:15). And so Paul also referred to “the obedience of faith” in Romans 1:5 and 16:26; see also Rom. 15:18; 16:19.)
Ultimately, Christ’s faithful sheep are identified by their acts of mercy—their love for him expressed through love for the suffering (Matt. 25:31-46).
So, do you have Jacob’s limp? That wound, that mark of energetic and even desperate dependence on Jesus?
We are not saved by our good works, our passion for Jesus, or even by our love for Jesus. We are saved by grace through Jacob-like faith in Jesus alone. And our faith is seen by our Christ-like love.
This article was originally published on November 9, 2018.
Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning Beautiful Christian Life LLC may get a commission if you decide to make a purchase through its links, at no cost to you.
“You hurt my feelings.” This is a common phrase that even very young children learn and use to much effect (garnering sympathy or getting something they want). There are a couple things, however, about this phrase that should be noted.
First, feelings cannot be hurt; only people can be hurt. Second, this statement implies a wrong has been done, but no actual sin has been presented. It is just a subjective statement of how a person feels. Rather than buy into these nebulous and unhelpful words, there is a better way of looking at feelings that not only reflects objective reality but also allows for personal responsibility.
We need to be connected to our emotions and feelings.
First, feelings are important. The Bible frequently expresses emotions and feelings. Take Psalm 35:9, “Then my soul will rejoice in the LORD, exulting in his salvation,” or Joel 2:23:
Be glad, O children of Zion, and rejoice in the LORD your God, for he has given the early rain for your vindication; he has poured down for you abundant rain, the early and the latter rain, as before.
Clearly, rejoicing, exulting, and being glad are emotions Scripture calls us to experience in relation to God, and some emotions, such as rejoicing, are also directed towards other people (see Prov. 5:18). In addition to the above emotions, we are also called to mourn and grieve over sin. None of these actions can properly take place if we are disconnected from our emotions and feelings.
Rather than looking to our feelings to guide whether something is good or bad, we ought to see our feelings as indicators of whether or not our hearts are aligned with God’s Word and plan for our lives, and to pinpoint potential problems in ourselves or others as we interact with people.
We can use our feelings as gauges of how we are responding to God’s providence.
Every day there are situations that affect us. An accident on our route to work makes us late. We forget the food in the oven and burn dinner. We prepare a great dinner only to have our spouse get stuck at work and come home too late to enjoy our hard labors. A wonderful vacation gets cancelled because of sickness. Our car is stolen after an otherwise pleasant day of sightseeing. A friend says something to us that is true but is hard to hear. Or someone says something that is false about us. The list is endless. And each situation stirs up within us emotions and feelings.
In these situations, we can use our feelings as gauges of how we are responding to God’s providence. This is probably easier to see in situations where sin is not involved. Take, for example, an accident on route to work. Is our response frustration, impatience, or anger for the inconvenience of the situation, or perhaps worry over how about our boss will respond at work? If so, these emotions and feelings might point to a lack of trust in God’s plan for us, as well as a lack of empathy or love for others who are possibly experiencing difficulty or tragedy at that very moment. How do we respond when we fear our manager or boss, losing our job, or being rebuked? The fear of man or the fear of losing face is a powerful emotion. How we handle fear or impatience due to various circumstances speaks volumes about how we view God and his control in our lives.
A careful evaluation of the objective reality of the situation helps us to respond rightly to our feelings.
In situations that involve being sinned against, it is probably easier to identify why we are sad or angry and the reason behind it. Perhaps someone has stolen from us or spoken untruths about us. In these situations, we are certainly hurt and experience emotions of sadness and anger. When evil does befall us, we are to mourn the situation, and there is a place for righteous anger towards those who perpetrate evil. In fact, if we did not mourn, feel sad, or even feel angry in some situations, it would point to a lack of understanding of God’s holiness and how sin is an offense against the King of heaven.
What about those situations where we feel badly but there is no sin? Maybe a co-worker expresses constructive criticism about an idea we thought was wonderful. Or a friend doesn’t share our enthusiasm about a particular author we love; in fact, they feel quite the opposite and give us thoughtful reasons why they hold that opinion. Or a mature Christian offers a warning about a direction we are going with our career, presenting some potential problems we may experience that we hadn’t considered. How do we feel? Are we upset, irritated, annoyed, incensed? Do we say, “You hurt my feelings”? Before we go down this route, let’s look at two things: Is there truth and is there love in what they are saying?
These two questions help us see the reality of a situation. First, do your friends, co-workers, and other Christians have any truth in what they are saying? If so, identify what it is. Also, if there is no truth, identify that as well. Second, how was this message communicated? Was it expressed in love (or in the work-place without malice)?
In our love for God and our neighbor, we need to humbly align our feelings with God’s Word.
If what was said was true and done in love, then our feelings need to be adjusted to that reality. Perhaps instead of being annoyed or irritated, we should be grateful that someone is caring about us enough to point out something true and important. Or maybe we need to recognize our anger is a cover for shame or pride concerning our own actions and this can lead us into spiritual growth as it uncovers a blind spot we had. This can then be a point of prayer for the Holy Spirit to work humility and discernment in our lives.
If there was truth but not love, this can also help us pinpoint what caused us to feel sad or angry. Was it unkindness? A self-righteous attitude? A sense of jealousy? We can look at reality and say, “This was true, but I feel this way because…” This allows us to speak with those who hurt us in a constructive way, pointing out where they were right but also where they hurt us with unkindness, a self-righteous attitude, etc.
In these ways we use our feelings as guides to help us work through situations but not lead us away from objective reality and personal responsibility. Sometimes my feelings may be legitimate—people do hurt me—but other times they may be sparked by pride or jealousy. Like any other part of our lives, our feelings must be subject to God’s Word and the renewing work of the Holy Spirit.
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Last year, during our trip to Israel, I had the opportunity to visit En Gedi. The word En Gedi means “spring of the wild goat.” En Gedi is a lush and vibrant oasis in the middle of the Judean Wilderness. What makes it so remarkable is its close proximity to the Dead Sea. Everything in the surrounding area is lifeless. Yet, wild goats feed off the verdant plants that grow at En Gedi. A steady flowing stream of water rushes through the middle of the oasis. Surrounding this stream are rocky cliffs spotted with caves. It is in those caves where David hid while on the run from King Saul in the Old Testament.
1 Samuel 24:1-2 says,
When Saul returned from following the Philistines, he was told, “Behold, David is in the wilderness of Engedi.” Then Saul took three thousand chosen men out of all Israel and went to seek David and his men in front of the Wildgoats’ Rocks.
In those caves, frightened and alone, David penned at least two psalms, Psalm 57 and 142.
Many of us know what it’s like to be at the end of our rope, to feel stuck with nowhere to turn.
In Psalm 142, David cries out to the Lord for help and hope:
With my voice I cry out to the LORD; with my voice I plead for mercy to the LORD. I pour out my complaint before him; I tell my trouble before him. (Ps. 142:1-2)
He tells the Lord exactly how he is feeling and what he is going through. He says, “My spirit faints within me” (Ps. 142:3); “I am brought very low”; and “Deliver me from my persecutors, for they are too strong for me!” (Ps. 142:6).
While few of us have been on the run from our enemies as David was, many of us do know what it’s like to be at the end of our rope, to feel stuck with nowhere to turn. We know what it feels like to be in despair or to feel lost and alone. We know what it’s like to be afraid. We know what it’s like to face something so frightening, we can’t imagine any way around it. We know what it’s like to look for help and find none (Ps. 142:4).
In the midst of that terrifying circumstance. David turned to the LORD God. He turned to the great I Am for help and hope.
For those of us who find ourselves with similar emotions to what David writes about in Psalm 142, there are three comforting things we can remember from this passage.
1. God knows us intimately.
In verse three, David writes, “When my spirit faints within me, you know my way!” Our God is an omniscient God. He knows all things. He knows the end from the beginning. He is never surprised or caught off guard by the circumstances of our lives. And he knows us intimately. As David wrote elsewhere,
O LORD, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O LORD, you know it altogether. (Ps. 139:1-4)
God knows just what to do in all circumstances. And he knows what is best for us. John Calvin encourages us to rest in the fact that God knows:
God knew the way to deliver him, while his own mind was distracted by a variety of thoughts, and yet could not conceive any mode of extrication. The words teach us, when we have tried every remedy and know not what to do, to rest satisfied with the conviction that God is acquainted with our afflictions, and condescends to care for us, as Abraham said — "The Lord will provide." (Genesis 22:8.) (John Calvin’s Commentaries on the Psalms 119-150)
2. God is our refuge.
David turned to God because he knew God was his refuge. “I cry to you, O LORD; I say, ‘You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living’” (Ps. 142:5). The Hebrew word for refuge is machaseh, which means hope, place of refuge, shelter, or trust (Strong’s Concordance, 4268). David put his trust and hope in God.
In the midst of your current trial, wherein do you place your hope and trust? It’s easy to turn to false refuges, to run and hide in metaphorical caves, or to seek out hope in created things rather than in the Creator. But those false refuges will only let us down. God alone is our place of safety. And it’s only in God that we find all we need. Like the Levites who had no land of their own, God is our portion; he is our inheritance. He is our Father and we are his children. We can call on him anytime and anywhere and know that he hears us. We can trust him to be our refuge and hope in times of trouble.
3. God will deliver us.
David ends his psalm with confidence. “The righteous will surround me, for you will deal bountifully with me” (Ps. 142:7). The armies that surrounded David were stronger than he was, but he knew God was stronger still. He knew and expected that God would deliver him. He knew he would once again be surrounded by God’s people.
Though the effects of the fall ravage our lives, though sin seems to have a grip on us, though evil appears to be winning, God is our deliverer. We only have to look to Christ and what he has accomplished for us in his life, death, resurrection, and ascension. He brought us from death to life. He redeemed us from slavery to sin. He made peace for us with God. He gave us the gift of his Spirit to change and transform us. Because of Christ, we too can face the hard circumstances of life with confidence, not in ourselves, but in who Christ is for us.
Dear friend, when life is hard, cry out to God in lament. Tell him your sorrows and fears. Ask for his help and deliverance. Put your hope and trust in him, for he is your refuge and portion.
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If you are anything like me (Type A, a little tightly wound and productivity-oriented—but in the most lovable and laid-back way), interruptions are most likely not your favorite thing. Providentially, I am at a point in my life in which I am not working outside of the home, and I have two young children at my heels all day, ages two and four. Some days it feels like my whole day was an interruption. I wake up in the morning with a very productive day planned out in front of me, and often times find myself struggling to recall at the end of the day what I “accomplished.”
It is at these times we need to be reminded of the vital importance of loving, nurturing, and caring for our children, even when doing so seems to “get in the way” of the many tasks and duties that are required of a parent every day. Children are needy, easily distracted, and in constant need of correction. As much as we love our children with all that we are, sometimes it is tempting to long for the luxury of just being left alone.
Correcting little ones for the same things over and over gets exhausting. Have you ever found yourself thinking, “Why are my children doing this again? They were just disciplined for this yesterday!” How quickly we forget that as parents we often battle the same sins again and again as well. Children have a way of exposing our own sin.
Discipline should be an opportunity for a moment of grace.
I have been reading a book on parenting that I highly recommend,Parenting: 14 Gospel Principles That Can Radically Change Your Family (Crossway, 2016) by Paul Tripp. The book reminded me of my calling to my children and not only encouraged me to endure these interruptions, but also to thank God for them and to see them as moments of grace. Tripp reminds us that we are the first experience with authority our children have. We set the tone in their lives with what it looks like to have authority and how they are expected to submit to it.
As tempting as it is to simply set rules, play judge, and then throw down the hammer, overlooking loving, biblical instruction is a huge opportunity missed. Tripp reminds us that this authority we are given is ambassadorial authority from the King himself—we have no authority of our own. These precious lambs in our care are not ours but belong to God. Therefore, we are to reflect the authority of our heavenly Father.
In the lives of your children, you are the look of God’s face, you are the touch of his hand, and you are the tone of his voice. (Tripp, p. 116)
Wow, that thought alone caused me to pause. How often does my correction of my children meet that definition? Less often than I would like, to say the least.
Discipline should be a good moment of parenting.
Tripp goes on to explain how these constant interruptions should be welcomed:
Be thankful for these little moments. Don’t look at them as the bad moments of parenting, as hassles and interruptions; these are the good moments of parenting. These are moments of grace. (Tripp, p. 118)
These seemingly insignificant battles over sharing toys or finishing chores or arguing with siblings are the everyday moments in which our children are exposing their sinful hearts and giving us opportunities to lovingly correct and instruct them. As tempting as it is to address the behavior itself and leave it at that, there is such an opportunity missed to get at the heart of the real issue and explain to them why they act the way they do and why they have hope to conquer the sin that is within them.
May we all learn to slow down, embrace these moments of grace, and point our children to their Savior with every opportunity we are given.
This article was originally published on March 18, 2018.
Photo Credit: Aaron casting lots (Lev. 16:8); detail of the East Window, Lincoln Cathedral; image from Wikimedia Commons.
Disclosure: This post may contain affiliate links, meaning Beautiful Christian Life LLC may get a commission if you decide to make a purchase through its links, at no cost to you.
Unlike our beloved Anglican cousins, Presbyterians don't believe that it is right to ordain priests into the church. But that doesn’t mean that we don’t think that we need a priest. On the contrary, we most desperately need a priest! Not a mere human priest, however, but the one great High Priest, Jesus Christ.
For every high priest chosen from among men is appointed to act on behalf of men in relation to God, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins. He can deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself is beset with weakness. Because of this he is obligated to offer sacrifice for his own sins just as he does for those of the people. And no one takes this honor for himself, but only when called by God, just as Aaron was. (Heb. 5:1-4)
First, what is a priest? A priest is a go-between, someone who represents God before humanity, and humanity before God. A go-between is needed because God is holy, and we are not.
The Holy God hates sin with a passion and breaks out against it with fierce anger (remember the Flood, the Ten Plagues, the Exile...). But we are sin-full. In the West Australian town of Greenough, constant strong winds have bent the trees to grow right-angled to the ground. Humans are bent by sin to do what God has forbidden, and to fail to do what God has commanded.
Sinners cannot stand in God’s holy presence without being destroyed.
This is why Isaiah said “Woe to me! I am ruined!” when he found himself in the presence of the “Holy! Holy! Holy! LORD Almighty!” (Isa. 6:1-5). This is why the Beloved Disciple, confronted by the Holy Son of God, fell at his feet “as though dead” (Rev. 1:17).
Sinful humanity must come to God to plead for his mercy and blessing. But how can we? It isn’t safe to be around him, since we would be destroyed in his presence like a tissue in a bonfire, like a comet straying near the sun, disintegrated to ashes by the nuclear heat.
God on his side longs to bring us grace, forgiveness, and blessing. But how can he? His holy presence would destroy us, we who are fouled black by sin to our very core.
Two nations are at war, trying with might and main to obliterate one another. If there is to be any dialogue, any hope of reconciliation, a go-between is needed: traditionally, someone from neutral Switzerland. We need a Switzerland: a go-between to approach God on our behalf, to plead for his mercy and blessing; and someone who can come from God to us, to bring mercy and blessing. That is what a priest is. He represents sinful humanity before Holy God, and Holy God before sinful humanity.
A priest must have two qualifications.
First, in order to represent humanity, a priest must be one of us. He must know what we know, he must have felt and experienced what we have felt, to plead for us from a place of personal knowledge and encounter. Yet, though human, he must be sinless, so that he can enter Holy God’s presence without annihilation.
Second, in order to represent God, the priest must himself be divine. A true mediator between God and man must himself be—a God-man.
A priest has duties to perform.
In order to reconcile Holy God and sinful humanity, the priest must satisfy God’s demand for the execution of just punishment upon human sin. God can no more overlook and disregard sin than a human justice can overlook premeditated murder. If God and humanity is to be reconciled, human sin must be dealt with.
How can God bless sinful humanity, when he must punish us? God in his wisdom and grace has provided a sacrifice: a means by which our sin can be punished in another, in a substitute.
Just punishment for our sin can be executed upon the substitute, so that we may instead be blessed. The priest can make this sacrifice, and then bring evidence to God that the sacrifice has been made, and that sin has been justly punished. The priest brings the blood of the slain victim: “Look, here is the evidence that this person’s sin has been punished, that justice has been administered.”
God sees the blood of the substitute, and his holy justice is satisfied. The person for whom the sacrifice was made is no longer the object of his wrath: for his wrath has already fallen upon the sacrificial victim.
Then God sends the priest back to the people he represents: to pronounce God’s forgiveness and favor, God’s promises and reassurance.
The high priest was Israel’s only priest.
This was the awesome office and duty of the Old Testament priest: he was a mutual representative of Holy God and sinful humanity; he brought bloody evidence to God that Israel’s sin had been justly punished; he took God’s blessing to Israel, whose sin had been lifted.
The singular magnificence of the dress of the high priest showed that he was actually Israel’s only priest—the other “ordinary priests” merely served as his assistants. He wore a linen turban, with a gold plate engraved with the words “Holy to the LORD.” Over his heart he wore a breastplate, set with twelve precious jewels each engraved with the name of a tribe of Israel. On his shoulders he bore two stones engraved likewise with the names of the twelve tribes. Thus, he bore the nation upon his heart and shoulders, and the hope of all Israel rested upon him.
And once a year, on the Day of Atonement, he entered into the Most Holy Place of the Tabernacle, where the Ark of the Covenant was placed—between whose golden cherubim God was enthroned. He came on behalf of all Israel, bringing the blood of a sacrifice, a goat slaughtered on behalf of the people. Thus he communicated to God: “The sin of the people has been paid for. Your holy justice is satisfied. Forgive your people, and fulfill your covenant promises to them.” From God’s presence he returned to the people, to declare them clean from all sin (Lev. 16:30).
Though this ritual was spectacular, Hebrews says that Israel’s high priests were only a picture and shadow of the one true and heavenly High Priest: God’s Son, Jesus Christ.
How do we know that the Old Testament high priests were not the true and actual High Priest?
First, because they did their job not in God’s true throne room, but in an earthly tabernacle, a mere picture and representation of the heavenly reality.
Second, because the high priests offered the blood of sacrificed animals to God, and the blood of animals can never pay for the sins of a human being (Heb. 10:4). Thus, the sacrifices they brought were pictures of a coming future reality.
Third, because these high priests were themselves sinful! They could never safely enter the true presence of God.
Jesus, however, is the true High Priest.
The author of Hebrews states,
So also Christ did not exalt himself to be made a high priest, but was appointed by him who said to him,
“You are my Son,
today I have begotten you”;
as he says also in another place,
“You are a priest forever,
after the order of Melchizedek.” (Heb. 5:5-6)
The full significance of “the order of Melchizedek” will be explained later in Hebrews. Suffice to say that the true High Priest would have to come from an order quantumly different from that of the sinful earthly priests, and Jesus comes from this different order, the “order of Melchizedek.”
And Jesus proved himself to be a perfect representative of humanity:
In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence. Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered.And being made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him, being designated by God a high priest after the order of Melchizedek. (Heb. 5:7-10)
Jesus prayed for us:
Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, he got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. (Mark 1:35)
He brought petitions on our behalf:
“Holy Father, protect them by the power of your name.” (John 17:11)
“Protect them from the evil one…. Sanctify them by the truth.” (John 17:15-17)
“Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory.” (John 17:24)
And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. (Luke 22:44)
Even while they pounded spikes through his hands and feet, he cried:
“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34)
And Jesus learned to be obedient to God:
[He] grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men. (Luke 2:52)
He suffered—not least in the crucible of his desert temptations—and his suffering taught him obedience and dependence upon God.
And so Jesus became a High Priest perfectly equipped to represent us.
The author of Hebrews goes on to declare the following:
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. (Heb. 4:15)
If, as I believe to be true, Hebrews is a recorded sermon, the preacher seems conscious right here that what he is saying is quite challenging. Perhaps the congregation was beginning to fade, thinking, “This is all so theological and theoretical: can’t we just get back to the simple basics!”
And so he says:
About this we have much to say, and it is hard to explain, since you have become dull of hearing. For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil. Therefore let us leave the elementary doctrine of Christ and go on to maturity, not laying again a foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God, and of instruction about washings, the laying on of hands, the resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment. And this we will do if God permits. (Heb. 5:11-6:3)
If we are not going to fall away from Christ, if we are going to make it, then we need deep and wide knowledge.
The reason is this: we are attacked on a hundred fronts with a hundred brutal weapons—untold trials and temptations attacking the mind, soul, and spirit. We can only resist these attacks if we know how to answer them.
If we feed on milk, we will remain defenseless infants, gurgling and kicking helplessly with our fat little legs. My son plays Rugby Union. It is a tough game, and he would never last if he lived off milk and baby food. He needs meat and solid food if he is going to survive the scrum, if he is going to tackle his opponents into the ground, and if he is going to break through to the try line. This is why Sunday preaching is so important, and Bible studies and reading and self-feeding.
This is the meat you need—to know that Jesus is your great High Priest.
Are you falling prey to discouragement and temptation? Are you falling over at every struggle? This is the meat you need—to know that Jesus is your great High Priest:
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek. (Heb. 6:19-20)
We are ships in a black and towering gale. With Jesus as your High Priest, you are anchored behind the veil into the presence of God himself: anchored to his forgiveness, and anchored to his blessing, favor, and love. You are anchored there because Jesus is standing right there, representing you. He brings the blood of a sacrifice—his blood—evidence that your sins have been punished and dealt with. With Jesus as your High Priest you have absolute assurance that you are free from condemnation. And he brings to you, from God, abundant mercy, forgiveness, and life.
And because Jesus knows you—for he himself endured trials and temptations—he brings you exactly the help you need for each and every daily trial. Every trial. In Jesus Christ alone you have a firm and secure anchor for your soul.
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My family moved to St. Simons Island, Georgia, in 1989 when I was twelve years old. One of the first things that I distinctly remember about that beautiful, little, secluded island was the fact that we could walk into a store, write our name on a ledger, and walk out with just about whatever we wanted in the store. I remember my dad and mom talking about needing to pay off their account at the hardware store every month. The owners and my parents both wanted to keep “short accounts.”
It was a peculiar and fascinating experience for a boy who moved there from a major city in which that would have never happened. The population of the island was small enough at that time for store owners to feel as if they could offer that service. Needless to say, it didn't last long.
Within a year or two, you could no longer do so. It is somewhat tragic that this practice isn’t part of our culture anymore, because it serves as an illustration of an important aspect of our spiritual life. In the Christian life, we are—as the Puritans used to say—to “keep short accounts with God and men.” So, what do short accounts look like in the Christian life? Here are a few thoughts:
1. Confess your sins.
Believers are people who confess their sin. That is part and parcel of what it means to be a Christian. If a man or woman, boy or girl, never confesses their sin, they reveal that they do not believe that they are sinners in need of a Savior. A true believer is one who has learned, by the work of the Holy Spirit to say, “Will you please forgive me?” This is true in the vertical dimension of our relationship with God, first and foremost, and it is true in the horizontal relationships we have with others.
If we don't confess our sin, we evidence that we are not sincere in our profession of faith in Christ. We must first confess our sins to the Lord. We learn this from Psalm 51 where David prays, “‘Against You and You only have I sinned’” (Ps. 51:4). Even though David had sinned against Uriah, Bathsheba, both of their families, his family and all of Israel, he viewed his sin, first and foremost, as that which he committed against the Lord. It was sin because he broke God’s law.
We too must first go to the Lord and then to others. When we go to others, but not to the Lord, we functionally act like the man or woman who goes to the priest in the confessional but not to God in heaven.
2. Confess your sins particularly.
The Westminster Confession of Faith has an intriguing statement about this in its chapter on repentance where we read,
Men ought not to content themselves with a general repentance, but it is every man's duty to endeavor to repent of his particular sins, particularly. (WCF 15.5)
In short, we must never conclude that it is sufficient to confess that we are generally sinners or that we have generally sinned. When we confess our sin to God and men, we are to confess our sins specifically. We are to own the guilt of the particular sins that we have done. We are to examine our actions against the Law of God (i.e.the Ten Commandments) and confess the particular ways in which we have broken his law.
My wife and I try to teach our boys to do this when they have sinned against one another. We teach them not to say, "I'm sorry." Instead, we seek to teach them to say, “Will you please forgive me for doing x, y or z?” We also try to do so in our marriage. It is good for husbands to ask their wives to forgive them for sinful anger, for lack of gentleness, lack of understanding, pride, laziness, indifference, etc.
Likewise, it is good for a wife to ask her husband to forgive her for all the ways that she has specifically failed to obey the Lord in her relationship to him. Members of the church also need to learn to confess particular sins to one another. When one member of the church has sinned against another, they need to go to the offended party and seek out their forgiveness for what they have specifically done wrong. Sadly, this occurs quite infrequently in the family, marriages, and the church.
3. Confess your sins quickly.
One of the sure signs that there is something out of alignment in your soul is that you do not go to the Lord and confess your sins as soon as you recognize that you have sinned against him. Pride keeps us from uninhibited confession of sin. The same is true with regard to our relationship to others.
Like the disciples in the Garden, our flesh would rather sleep than engage in the spiritual work of prayer—especially when we have sinned. The apostle Paul warned believers not to "let the sun go down" on sinful anger, because Satan will most certainly get a foothold in our relationships when we do so. We must learn to confess our sins quickly.
4. Confess your sins continually.
We must continually go to God and men in confession and contrition. We must resist the temptation to give into sin and stop confessing it. Confessing and seeking to forsake sin is one of the means of Christian growth in grace. When we stop doing so, we have begun the first step toward backsliding or apostasy.
It doesn't matter how many times we may fall into the same sin, we must go back to the Lord and back to those against whom we have sinned in order to seek our forgiveness. The Proverbs tell us, "The righteous falls seven times and rises again" (Prov. 24:16). When Simon Peter asked Jesus if he should forgive his brother seven times, Jesus told him to do so seventy times seven (Matt. 18:22). This means that we should repeatedly confess our sins to God and men—no matter how many times we have sinned.
5. Approach others when sinned against.
Part of keeping short accounts with others is going to them when you believe that they have sinned against you. Jesus taught us to do so when he said, “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother” (Matt. 18:15).
It is just as much our responsibility to humbly and forthrightly address what we believe to be the spiritual debt of others to us as it is for them to come to us and confess their sin. This has got to be one of the least practiced, yet most important, parts of the Christian life.
In a culture that essentially says, “Live and let live,” believers need to learn what it means to go to and lovingly confront a brother or sister when they believe that he or she has personally sinned against them. Often, one believer is oblivious to the fact that he or she has sinned against another. Telling a brother or sister their fault is part of helping them keep short accounts with God and men.
6. Forgive others indiscriminately.
We must guard against only forgiving those we like. To do so would be to show affinity, not forgiveness. No matter who comes to us and asks us to forgive them, we are to stand ready to extend the forgiveness for which they are coming. We have no right to hold faults over the heads of those who have come to us because we don't like their personality.
I have seen some of the roughest of persons come to a place of deep brokenness over their sins—only to hear those they have sinned against criticize them for that roughness. We are not called to only forgive our friends. We are called to forgive any who repent and seek that forgiveness from us.
7. Forgive others continually.
As noted above, Jesus taught us to forgive an unlimited number of times (i.e., the sense of “seventy times seven”). We are all ready to write others off when they sin against us a certain number of times. One of my friends often reminds me that most relationships—because of the self-righteousness in our hearts—can only handle one or two offenses. Yet, when we remember how much God has forgiven us, how can we not repeatedly forgive others?
If we set a certain limit on how much we forgive others, we are in danger of having God hold our offenses against us. The parable of the two debtors (Luke 7:36-50) is a frightening indictment against those who do so. This does not mean that there will not be consequences for those who continually sin against another.
A husband who continually cheats on his wife is most certainly subject to her executing her God-given right to divorce him. She must, however, repeatedly and continually forgive him of his sin if he repents, just as God does for us in Christ.
While so much more could and should be said on this subject, what has been said should encourage us to make sure that our ledger is cleared. We need to be diligent to keep short accounts with God and men. In doing so, we will experience more of what it is to live by the grace of God in Christ, to live in gracious relationships with one another, and to be agents of grace in extending forgiveness to others.
Thisarticlewas originally published under the title “Keeping Short Accounts” atChristward Collective, a conversation of the Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals and was originally featured at Beautiful Christian Life on August 29, 2018.
