The Death of Death

You have somewhere written, oh Christ, that you must reign until you destroy every rule and every authority and power, and that the last enemy to be destroyed will be Death. For you have written that your reign must endure until all your enemies have been put under your feet.

But how, oh Lord, will you finally dispatch Death? Loitering at Heaven’s Gates and snatching stragglers away, will he be trampled by your teeming saints as they surge through those gates into glory?

Will you, with your foot on Death’s neck, kill him and then hang him on a tree? Think of it–the Curse cursed!

Or will you entice Death to sleep at your feet, only to crush his temple with the very tent peg that you used to tabernacle among us?

Have no mercy, oh Lord, on Death, for he has shown no mercy to your children, and he showed least mercy of all to you. Grant us the joy of watching your wounded heel dance on his horrible head! His has been a reign of most wretched terror, so slay Death soon, and have no mercy, oh Christ!

How to Discern the Restroom Habits of a Bible Translation Committee

“The editors of the NIV pee sitting down!…The editors of the New King James–they all pee sitting down!”

The Faith of Joseph of Arimathea

I have not thought much about the extraordinary faith of Joseph of Arimathea (except to note that he is one of the “good guys” of the gospels), but I just had this thought: he was a “respected member of the Council” (Mark 15:43), which was the very Council that condemned Jesus to death (Mark 15:55). Still, he requests permission from Pilate to bury Jesus (Mark 15:42ff). Allow me to draw an analogy to illustrate why I am so impressed with this:

Imagine that the Nebraska Cornhuskers are about to play Alabama. (I graduated from Nebraska, but I now live in Alabama.) Imagine, then, that I talked all kinds of trash before the game, telling anyone who would listen that Nebraska was going to humiliate Alabama into a much deeper shade of Crimson.

This is understandable, even if foolish: the game has not yet started, and my predictions certainly might be correct.

Imagine, though, that Alabama pounded Nebraska into the ground. (This was more likely to happen over the past six years than it will be in the near future.) I would have to be crazy to continue to insist to everyone in Alabama that my team was, nevertheless, better than theirs.

Here’s my point: it is very common (and easy!) to support something that has not yet proved itself. Even if the disciples didn’t completely know who Jesus was before his crucifixion, they still believed that he was the Christ (Mark 8:29). But, when Jesus’ claims seemed to have come crashing down upon his head at the cross, virtually everyone abandoned Jesus–the game was over, and the Pharisees had crushed the once-feisty underdog. Logically, all sort of support should here cease, because the Pharisees had disproved Jesus’ claims to be the Messiah, right? (Don’t forget that the common perception of the Messiah was NOT that he would be the Suffering Servant depicted in Isaiah.)

It is at this point, though, that Joseph breaks with his own Council, with great risk to his reputation (and possibly his wealth and safety, too) to ask Pilate for the body of Jesus so that our Savior could have a proper burial. The game was over, Jesus had lost, but Joseph stubbornly hangs on to some hope-against-hope that God might find some way to gain a victory despite the man’s horrific defeat.

This is beyond band-wagon support, and even beyond what I commonly call my own “faith”–I don’t know what Joseph was thinking, but he sure will be vindicated in the end.

Prodigal Brother, Prodigal Son

I don’t know why I have never noticed this before, but the story of Jacob’s reunion with Esau sounds strikingly like Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son.

After Jacob dishonestly and unscrupulously takes Esau’s birthright and blessing, he goes off into another land. After that situation gets bad enough, he decides to leave it and head back home. When we get to the story of the actual reunion, Genesis 32 and 33 goes out of its way to show that Jacob is putting as many of his livestock, children, and even his wives between him and Esau (that is, Jacob is a long way off when Esau starts coming to him). Here is how the reunion goes in Genesis 33:

⁴But Esau ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept….⁸Esau said, “What do you mean by all this company that I met?” Jacob answered, “To find favor in the sight of my lord.” ⁹But Esau said, ‘I have enough, my brother; keep what you have for yourself.” ¹⁰Jacob said, “No, please, if I have found favor in your sight, then accept my present from my hand. For I have seen your face, which is like seeing the face of God, and you have accepted me. ¹¹Please accept my blessing that is brought to you, because God has dealt graciously with me, and because I have enough.” Thus he urged him, and he took it.

The Parable of the Prodigal Son begins in the same way, where the son horrifically asks his father for an early inheritance (the equivalent of wishing the father were dead), and he goes into a foreign land. When the situation gets bad enough, he comes back to his senses and decides to leave to be a servant to his father. Notice the links in Luke 15 to the other story:

²⁰And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. ²¹And the son said to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” But the father said to his servants, “Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.” And they began to celebrate.

I’m not completely sure what the implications of this might be, but I find it very interesting. I’m wondering if Jesus might have been saying something a little deeper to his fellow Jews surrounding him than is usually suggested in the standard Prodigal Son sermon.