On the Death of Christ

I remember preparing for my first ever Sunday sermon. It was Easter Sunday and I chose to preach from Isaiah 53, the most vivid Old Testament prophecy of Christ’s death and its meaning. As I studied the text, I found myself fixated on verse 10 which starts with these words, “Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief”. Isaiah was saying in no uncertain terms that Jesus would suffer a brutal death according to the Father’s will and plan.

I believed this truth but wrestled with how to communicate it. It is hard to wrap our heads around the idea that God, our good Father, would orchestrate the suffering and death of his beloved Son. It is so counterintuitive that some theologians have tried very hard to deny it. Their arguments might pull on our heartstrings but they flatly contradict the teaching of Jesus himself and his apostles¹. Scripture is clear, God the Father was the architect behind the death of Christ.

So, what are we to make of this? What does Christ’s death show us about God the Father? Much can and has been said on this but as I reflect on it, I see at least three encouragements it gives us.

See his great love for you. Scripture tells us why God orchestrated the death of Christ. He did it out of love for sinful humans like you and me. The cross reflects not the smallness of the Father’s love for Jesus but the greatness of his love for us. John 3.16 famously says, “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son”. In saying “he gave” Christ, it speaks of giving him to die in our place. To settle the debt we could never repay. To reconcile us to himself. If you ever doubt God’s love for you, remember he gave Christ for you while you were his enemy (Romans 5.6–10). If he did not spare his own Son but gave him for you, you can trust his commitment to doing you good (Romans 8.32).

See his full pardon of you. Christ’s death displays not only God’s love but also his righteousness (see Romans 3.23–26). We struggle to comprehend the gravity of sinning against our holy God and the wrath it deserves. If God simply forgave us because we said sorry or did more good than bad, that would be unjust as he would be simply ignoring our sins. However, God does justice to the believer in Christ because all their sins are punished in Christ’s death and God is “faithful and just to forgive” (1 John 1.9). If you ever worry that God still counts sins against you or are tempted to work for forgiveness, remember God gave Christ to be a more than sufficient payment for all your sin.

See his ability to turn evil into good. The death of Christ is simultaneously the most heinous injustice and most loving act in history. In it we see the highest fulfilment of the words Joseph spoke to his brothers, “you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive” (Genesis 50.20). God often shines the brightest light out of the deepest darkness. And this is reason for us to hope. If your situation looks hopeless and bleak, remember the death of Christ and see that God can and will still turn even this for good.

¹ Isaiah 53.10, Luke 24.42, John 3.16, Acts 2.23, Acts 4.27–28, Romans 3.25, Romans 8.32

These articles are written without the use of generative AI.

The end of your shame

As swiftly as Adam and Eve ate the fruit, so did they experience a new and profoundly uncomfortable sensation: that of shame.

They went from being ‘naked and… not ashamed’ to hiding in the bushes, crossing their legs and covering their privates. When God came looking for them and asking, ‘Where are you?’ Adam replied, ‘I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself.’

What was new to them is not new to us. Shame is part of our very existence. What are we to make of it?

Shame is both deeply right and deeply wrong. 

It’s right because it’s an intuitive, conscience-level awareness that we are not as beautiful, pure, and admirable as we ought to be. We were made for glory and for innocence and for peace in our consciences. We were made ‘a little lower than the angels’. But we have climbed down into the cesspit of our sin and our humanity has become tainted. As a result, there are things in us we want to hide because they’re genuinely ugly. 

But it’s also deeply wrong because our redemption should mean liberty from sin and from shame. For many, this sense of being clean can be hard to accept. When this happens, our shame can become enflamed and aggravated by the devil who accuses us, the world that alienates and despises us, and even our own sense of hatred towards ourselves. Shame in your conscience is much like your immune system: It’s designed to keep you healthy and fight off infections, parasites, and the like. But for some people, the immune system itself can be the very thing that is causing harm and even death.

Either way, whether our shame is right or it is wrong, the remedy is the same. We must turn again to a crucified saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, who took our sin and our shame upon himself when he was made a spectacle on the cross.

In an age of advanced pain management – of paracetomol and aspirin and morphine and anaesthetic – we are often most horrified by the physical pain and torture of the cross. ‘And yet,’ writes Fleming Rutledge, ‘we must continue to emphasize that the shame of the crucifixion is more important for the determination of its meaning than the physical suffering.’

Jesus experienced the shame of the cross in order to take your shame away. 

Dear Christian, that is one reason why Good Friday is truly good, and why you can smile in relief and bask in his loving acceptance, knowing once more what it means to be truly seen and to be deeply loved.