Blessed Is the Match--April 8, 2020
"And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross." [Philippians 2:7b-8]
When Christians say that we believe Jesus “died for us,” we don’t just mean that Jesus closed his eyes and gave up his breath at some point. We don’t mean that Jesus lived a long and happy life to a ripe old age and then, after seeing grandchildren and great-grandchildren bouncing on his knee, he passed away quietly in his sleep. If that had happened, we could say that Jesus died, but that hardly seems like dying for us, or for anybody else, for that matter.
If it had happened that way, we could congratulate (or envy) Jesus for living a full life and dying a peaceful death. But we couldn’t say in any meaningful sense that he died for us—that he had given himself away for us, or that he had poured himself out for us.
Paul tells us that the cross makes the difference. The cross is evidence, not just that Jesus’ life was cut short by the Roman nails, but that Jesus consciously, willingly, intentionally gave his life up for us. The cross is Jesus knowing that he is forgoing decades of life, memories of children and grandchildren playing catch, and a comfortable retirement, and being willing to go through with it anyway, knowing he is going to lose those things. That’s why Paul emphasizes the fact that Jesus died on a cross—not in the safety of his own bed, not in good standing with the religious and political powers, and not with seven or eight or nine decades of memories to help ease him to a peaceful sleep. Jesus willingly put himself, not just in harm’s way, but in death’s way, the way a lifeguard knowingly risks her own life in order to save the unruly children horse-playing around the pool.
I once heard someone ask, “Why does it matter that Jesus died on a cross? Did the heavenly rules require that there be a certain amount of pain that Jesus had to endure? Is there some rating or score of suffering that had to be achieved?” In other words, why couldn’t Jesus just have lived a long full life and then just rode off into the sunset… or even had the obviously glorious and heroic kind of death of a soldier, leading the charge into battle? Why something so humiliating? So terrible? So sacrificial?
I suppose we could spend lifetimes trying to plumb the depths of the meaning of the cross, but at least part of it is this: there is nothing Jesus refused to hold back. Not the comfortable enjoyment of his golden years and grandchildren. Not his pride or dignity. Not the independence and freedom and control of taking life on his own terms. Not the sheer bliss and joy of “equality with God” as we heard in yesterday’s verses. Jesus was willing to lose it all, to hold nothing back.
If Jesus had lived a good ninety-some years of life, and then just fallen asleep on some cool Palestinian night, we might be left wondering, Was this for us that he died, or just because he had lived a full life and was ready to go? If Jesus had died a laudable, valiant death leading soldiers into battle, we would be left wondering, But he still got to be a hero—would he have done this still if nobody were watching? If Jesus had just fallen from the second story of a house when he was up on the roof hanging laundry, or trampled by a horse in an accident, we would still be left asking, Was this out of love, or just a freak accident? The cross is proof positive to us that Jesus willingly and deliberately chose to lay down his life… for you. And because in Jesus we have the fullness of God in a human life (which is exactly the point Paul has been making at this point in Philippians), that means no less than God was willing to go to death for us.
The cross means that no matter what fears we face about death, Jesus has endured worse, and has been through the sadness, pain, and fear himself. God was willing to hold nothing back for our sakes.
Hannah Szenes was a Hungarian Jew who was parachuted into Yugoslavia in the late days of World War II in an attempt to rescue fellow Jews who were about to be sent to Auschwitz. She was captured by the enemy in the attempt, tortured, and executed. But in the midst of that experience, when she had committed to the mission and been parachuted into harm’s way, she wrote these words:
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.
Blessed is the flame that burns in the secret fastness of the heart.
Blessed is the heart with strength to stop its beating for honor's sake.
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.
Something like that is what the cross is all about. Jesus was willing to lose everything—not just to die in comfort or in glory, but in a shameful execution—for us. Jesus was willing to pour himself out completely, holding nothing back. And in that, we can see that there was no price Jesus was not willing to pay to be faithful to the Father and to redeem us. You are just that precious.
How will you live on this day, knowing the lengths that Christ went to, and the things he was willing to lose, for you?
Lord Jesus, thank you. That may be all I can bear to say today considering your love. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you. For everything that you lost, so I could gain.
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross." [Philippians 2:7b-8]
When Christians say that we believe Jesus “died for us,” we don’t just mean that Jesus closed his eyes and gave up his breath at some point. We don’t mean that Jesus lived a long and happy life to a ripe old age and then, after seeing grandchildren and great-grandchildren bouncing on his knee, he passed away quietly in his sleep. If that had happened, we could say that Jesus died, but that hardly seems like dying for us, or for anybody else, for that matter.
If it had happened that way, we could congratulate (or envy) Jesus for living a full life and dying a peaceful death. But we couldn’t say in any meaningful sense that he died for us—that he had given himself away for us, or that he had poured himself out for us.
Paul tells us that the cross makes the difference. The cross is evidence, not just that Jesus’ life was cut short by the Roman nails, but that Jesus consciously, willingly, intentionally gave his life up for us. The cross is Jesus knowing that he is forgoing decades of life, memories of children and grandchildren playing catch, and a comfortable retirement, and being willing to go through with it anyway, knowing he is going to lose those things. That’s why Paul emphasizes the fact that Jesus died on a cross—not in the safety of his own bed, not in good standing with the religious and political powers, and not with seven or eight or nine decades of memories to help ease him to a peaceful sleep. Jesus willingly put himself, not just in harm’s way, but in death’s way, the way a lifeguard knowingly risks her own life in order to save the unruly children horse-playing around the pool.
I once heard someone ask, “Why does it matter that Jesus died on a cross? Did the heavenly rules require that there be a certain amount of pain that Jesus had to endure? Is there some rating or score of suffering that had to be achieved?” In other words, why couldn’t Jesus just have lived a long full life and then just rode off into the sunset… or even had the obviously glorious and heroic kind of death of a soldier, leading the charge into battle? Why something so humiliating? So terrible? So sacrificial?
I suppose we could spend lifetimes trying to plumb the depths of the meaning of the cross, but at least part of it is this: there is nothing Jesus refused to hold back. Not the comfortable enjoyment of his golden years and grandchildren. Not his pride or dignity. Not the independence and freedom and control of taking life on his own terms. Not the sheer bliss and joy of “equality with God” as we heard in yesterday’s verses. Jesus was willing to lose it all, to hold nothing back.
If Jesus had lived a good ninety-some years of life, and then just fallen asleep on some cool Palestinian night, we might be left wondering, Was this for us that he died, or just because he had lived a full life and was ready to go? If Jesus had died a laudable, valiant death leading soldiers into battle, we would be left wondering, But he still got to be a hero—would he have done this still if nobody were watching? If Jesus had just fallen from the second story of a house when he was up on the roof hanging laundry, or trampled by a horse in an accident, we would still be left asking, Was this out of love, or just a freak accident? The cross is proof positive to us that Jesus willingly and deliberately chose to lay down his life… for you. And because in Jesus we have the fullness of God in a human life (which is exactly the point Paul has been making at this point in Philippians), that means no less than God was willing to go to death for us.
The cross means that no matter what fears we face about death, Jesus has endured worse, and has been through the sadness, pain, and fear himself. God was willing to hold nothing back for our sakes.
Hannah Szenes was a Hungarian Jew who was parachuted into Yugoslavia in the late days of World War II in an attempt to rescue fellow Jews who were about to be sent to Auschwitz. She was captured by the enemy in the attempt, tortured, and executed. But in the midst of that experience, when she had committed to the mission and been parachuted into harm’s way, she wrote these words:
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.
Blessed is the flame that burns in the secret fastness of the heart.
Blessed is the heart with strength to stop its beating for honor's sake.
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.
Something like that is what the cross is all about. Jesus was willing to lose everything—not just to die in comfort or in glory, but in a shameful execution—for us. Jesus was willing to pour himself out completely, holding nothing back. And in that, we can see that there was no price Jesus was not willing to pay to be faithful to the Father and to redeem us. You are just that precious.
How will you live on this day, knowing the lengths that Christ went to, and the things he was willing to lose, for you?
Lord Jesus, thank you. That may be all I can bear to say today considering your love. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you. For everything that you lost, so I could gain.
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