Alston Road Church of Christ Podcast

Series: The Gospel and the Kingdom

Service: Sun AM

Type: Sermon

Speaker: Scott Kercheville

Because it was so ironic, I don’t think I’ll ever forget two years ago at the beginning of 2020 when John asked who among us was hoping 2020 would be better than 2019. A lot of people raised their hands. That hope didn’t turn out so great. And, I remember how once we neared the end of 2020 we longed to put a very difficult year behind us. Leaving behind 2021 for 2022, I don’t think a lot has changed — we still hope things will change: personally, nationally, globally.

As we enter a new year commonly filled with excitement about change and new possibilities, i imagine that if you are thinking very critically, you are a bit disillusioned with the whole idea of a new year and all the resolutions that come with it. I know I felt that way at the end of last year. And this reading from Ecclesiastes shows that those of us who are disillusioned are in good company with wise people. Ecclesiastes has always been one of my favorite books because of its honesty and realism. Christians can sometimes sound trite: “everything happens for a reason,” “I can do all things,” “God has plans,” “Things are getting better” — but there’s little of that optimism in Ecclesiastes.

All Is Vanity (Ecclesiastes 1:1-15, etc.)

“All is vanity.” The preacher uses the word “hebel” 37 times and it is translated in the ESV as “vain,” “vanity,” and by others as “futility.” The NIV and NLT translate it as “meaningless,” which is actually not helpful. As is noted in ESV Bibles, the word “hebel” — vanity, futility — refers to “mist,” “vapor,” or “breath,” but it is used metaphorically to refer to something that is fleeting, elusive, quickly passing, impossible to grasp just like wind. All things, the preacher tells us, are vain, fleeting, full of futility and emptiness — like wind, smoke, vapor, and breath they are here one moment and gone the next: they don’t amount to much.

Consider a few of ways the preacher demonstrates the futility of everything under the sun.

• The world, history, and mankind never advance, gain, or fill anything (1:2-8). Generations come and go. The sun never gets anywhere — it rises, sets, and returns panting to the place where it will rise again. Winds blow around and around. Water keeps flowing into the seas, but the seas are never filled up. We ourselves hear and see all manner of things, but our eyes and ears are never full, satisfied. It appears as though world history is one big cycle that is headed towards nothing but yet another vain, futile cycle that goes nowhere.
• Nothing is really new (1:9-10). Someone might come along — as politicians, revolutionists, and builders or technology often do today — and say, “No, something new is happening, something new has been built, this will take history into a new and better day,” but actually, the Preacher says, they are short-sighted — there’s nothing new under the sun. It won’t amount to anything truly different. What you buy today will be replaced. The children you bring into the world will die and be forgotten under the dust. It looks new, but it’s not.
• We make this mistake because, he says, we fail to see that Everything that happens is forgettable (1:11). Ninety-nine point nine percent of everyone and everything has been forgotten and will be forgotten. You and what you do, what your grandparents did, what your children will do — it’s all forgettable.
• All this leads to the sad conclusion in verse 15 that What is crooked cannot be made straight. What is broken appears to never be fixed. And this is the approach the preacher takes at various points throughout the book. He’s trying to find something that will help him find meaning and happiness in this broken world.
  • Is there hope in wisdom? No, wisdom is good, but more knowledge means more sadness — and you die like the fool anyway.
  • Is there hope in riches? No — the pleasures that riches afford are fleeting, temporary — and you may very well leave your hard-earned riches to a fool when you die anyway.
  • Is there hope in the justice system? No; there’s all sorts of red tape and processes and justice is often perverted by the powerful. Even when justice is dispensed it’s always delayed and those who are hurt are never really comforted in the end.
  • Maybe there’s hope if we will set our minds to do good, hard work? There can be pleasure in work for some, but what is ultimately gained from our work? All the work you do will one day crumble and be forgotten.
  • But at least there is hope in our deaths, right? Well, not really. In this world, the preacher says, the wicked who still went to the temple were honored in their deaths (8:10) while those who are poor and wise are forgotten (9:15). You might say, but at least the spirit of a righteous man ascends to God, but the preacher even shrugs about that — who knows if that is really the case? Maybe we are all like beasts who just return to dust (3:18-22). Though, he does eventually assure us: there really will be a final judgment.

So the preacher urges us to see that all things are vain and futile and full of weariness. Your labor will all be in vain. It’s a new year, but is it really? Is anything really new? Does we ever change? Does anything ever change? Many of you have made resolutions — but is there really any point in trying? It appears as though our bodies, marriages, families, churches, neighborhoods, and history are really going nowhere and they will amount to nothing — we will all waste away in sin, decay, and death forever. Let’s stand and sing.

All Things New

But, we must remember that Ecclesiastes is written from a particular perspective before the first advent of Jesus. It is a valuable perspective, and in fact, if we have ears to hear it, it is this wise perceptiveness that makes the Gospel of Jesus Christ such good news. The NT demonstrates that in Jesus a new thing has happened in our own world, right here, under the sun. The Divine God took on corruptible flesh, carried our sorrows, sicknesses, sins, and he let Satan smite him. He headed straight for death — that black hole that sucks all meaning and hope from anything that could be good, the thing which we can all hardly imagine experiencing without Jesus because it is so chilling and horrible and hopeless. But with tears and sweat-drops like blood he headed right to the cross, was carried to a tomb, and he came out of it into a garden and symbolically into a world that had suddenly begun to be a new place by his being raised in it. And in that body that was killed he was somehow raised incorruptible so that when he comes again he says he will still come as the now glorified divine human — as the Son of Man in the clouds. After 2,000 years this Son of man once dead is strong and he will come with his glory as God restored, but in the form of the divine human. Everything appears hopelessly old and beyond regeneration and restoration, but Christ the Son of man is the first fruits of the resurrection — and the firstfruits of what Paul calls the “new creation.” He is the first of the resurrection, the restoration, the regeneration.

And so, the writer of Ecclesiastes asks, “Is there a thing of which it is said, ‘See, this is new?’” And today with the advent and resurrection of the Christ we say, “Yes.”

How Newness Comes About

In light of the new year with new resolutions and the new thing Christ has done, I want to reflect with you in our remaining time on three aspects of how newness happens from the Bible’s perspective. Credit goes to my brother-in-law, Travis Wise — I was struggling with this lesson, but we found out yesterday we were  preparing to preach on similar themes, and I found his simple explanation very helpful. Turn to 2 Corinthians 5. There’s a lot in this chapter, but we’ll just draw a couple simple points from verses 14-21.

1. New comes out of the old. (Vs. 14-15) Christ’s death leads to our death and living again for the one who died. (Vs. 17) Those in Christ are a new creation, the old has passed away, the new has come. But what is wild is that this newness, this transformation has all come out of someone who was once part of the old age and old way. We die, pass away, and the new comes. But it is not that Christ has literally killed one person and replaced them with another — they new has come out of the old. That is what happened with Christ — he went into the tomb perishable, he came out imperishable. That’s the way Paul speaks of our resurrection — our body now is not our future body, but our future body will come out of our bodies now just as a plant comes from a seed. That’s the way Paul speaks of what will happen with the Creation in Romans 8 — this creation itself groans and hopes to be freed from corruption to obtain freedom: as I see it, it does not appear that what is old, enslaved, and corrupt will be replaced altogether by something new, free, and glorious, but rather, as the text says, the old will be made new, free, and glorious. As God says in Revelation, he is not making all new things, but all things new.

This really is a rather astonishing and unbelievable thing for people who see us. Think about a Christian you really respect and admire for their maturity, love, wisdom, and works. It is so hard to imagine, but they were not always like this. I look at mature people and I think they must have been born this way. It’s like they were spontaneously generated out of nothingness. That’s what butterflies appear like to us. When they were young they must have just been little butterflies. But they weren’t. But, actually, new creation is so wondrous because comes out of what was old.

Our challenge in believing in new creation — whether for us or this world — could in part be our own lack of imagination. We’ve may have lost childlike hope and faith in the magic of God’s Spirit to make new. That’s why, when God showed Isaiah and Ezekiel what it would look like when his Spirit would come to fully abide, he showed them water flowing from God’s temple and making the desert and the lifeless Dead Sea like a fruitful garden oasis of life. Are you pessimistic about making new resolutions for your good and the good of your family and this church and this world? Consider the Dead Sea and even Christ’s dead body and have imaginative eyes of childlike faith and hope: God’s Spirit makes new out of what is old.

2. New comes in the midst of the old. It’s strange: Paul exclaims, “New creation! The old has passed away; … the new has come,” but all throughout 2 Corinthians he goes on suffering terribly and metaphorically dying like Christ so that others might be reconciled to God and raised from death to life. Furthermore, though Paul says new creation has come, Peter tells us we still have to wait before the heavens and earth pass away and the new heavens and earth come. The new has come, but for now, it has come in the midst of a world that, while it is being made new, is still quite old. This is one thing most Jews were simply not expecting. They expected that God would doing his great work to resurrect Israel and restore all things in one big coming. But instead of simply raising everyone and everything to life at the end of time, Jesus came in the midst of time and — through his death and resurrection and the giving of his Spirit — he started new creation in the midst of the old creation.

And, in many senses, we do live in a creation that is not only filled with people who have been made new, but who have even made the world a little new. Hear me right, the world has gone bonkers and it is upside down and it will take Jesus coming in glory for all to be set right. But it is  challenging to appreciate is how different the world really is 2,000 years later. I hope at some point to read a recent book by Tom Holland called Dominion: How the Christian Revolution Remade the World. In it he tries to help modern people realize how Jesus’ has transformed ethics and justice and morality in our world — even for people who do not acknowledge or believe in him. Before Jesus, might unashamedly made right. Though non-Christians are very inconsistent, hardly anyone would confidently say might makes right today. Before Jesus, slaves bought and sold like like cattle and viewed as objectively less than human. And, though it took some time, it was Christians who eventually rose up and insisted that slavery end. In the words of one author, we might think that Jesus’ coming has simply changed some little bits of spiritual reality — forgiving our sins but that’s all — but it has started bringing newness to all of reality.

So, the new creation has come right here in the midst of the old. And that is wondrous, but it is also discouraging at times, isn’t it? It’s hard to be new around old, free around slaves, pure in corruption. But, take heart and have faith: this new year has come, but when you in prayer and faith make resolutions, you are not saying that this will be the year when all things will be made new — though we hope it will be and we say, “Maranatha — Lord come quickly!” You are newness in old, light in darkness. And “darkness is nothing at all — just the absence light.” (Travis) It simply cannot extinguish light. New has come and is coming and will not be stopped.

3. Futility isn’t futile (Romans 8:18-23). All that futility we talked about earlier really appears to us now to have absolutely no purpose. We may feel that we are here suffering with the creation and waiting for God to just pull the plug so we can escape this hell we are living in. But, actually, Paul says that God subjected the creation to futility in the hope that it would be set free from corruption. And in fact, he says that both the creation itself and we ourselves are all groaning through this vanity, this futility — but if you listen carefully, it’s not the groaning of hell that must simply be escaped, but it is the groaning of childbirth that leads to sons of God. It’s like when Peter says that our suffering is like a fire that refines our faith — futility isn’t futile, it’s the pains we and the creation must groan through until we as the sons of God are finally born, adopted, glorified, and the creation shares in our glory and freedom from bondage.

In the Lord Your Labor Is Not In Vain (1 Cor. 15:58)

The preacher says, “All is vanity, what does man gain from his toil? There is nothing new.” But God has done a new thing in Jesus. In Adam all have died, but in Christ all are made alive. And because of his resurrection, this new thing means that all is does not have to be vanity. 1 Cor. 15:58 ESV, “Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.” Outside of the Lord, outside of the walls of his kingdom, probably, everything under the sun is vanity. But that doesn’t have to be. The kingdom of heaven has invaded this world under the sun. It is a new year, and soon God will bring the new day to end all night. For now, if we are in the Lord and we do our labor in the Lord with the teachings of the Lord — as for the Lord and for the glory and dominion of the Lord — our labor is not at all in vain

Series: N/A

Service: Sun AM

Type: Sermon

Speaker: John Kilgore

Series: N/A

Service: Sun AM

Type: Sermon

Speaker: Scott Kercheville

Do you ever feel tired and discouraged — wondering what in the world we are doing, what God is doing, where God is? Hoping for some sort of direction or action from God? That’s not uncommon for people of God, especially this time of year. Not only do we miss loved ones, but the days are shorter. It’s darker and colder. It would be nice to have some light. The Scriptures are full of people who live in darkness and in the waiting — wondering, questioning, troubled, hoping God will act. Noah was in the rain and darkness a long time. Abraham and Sarah wandered without a home or a child for decades. The Israelites were slaves in Egypt for generations, watching their children be massacred at times. But as we know, God has always acted — that’s where all these songs and stories come from. The songs and stories are beautiful. They transport us to another time when others were waiting as we are — and the New Testament authors show us that we are supposed to live in their stories as if it is a picture of our own lives.

During this season of reflecting on the first advent (or coming) of Christ — as we sit in the midst of a long nearly two years, in the colder and darker days — I want to look at a prayer in Isaiah 63-64 and to see how God answers it in Mark’s Gospel so our hope can be fortified to look to the second advent of Christ our Lord. (Credit to Richard Hays for his analysis of this text in Echoes of Scripture in the Gospels which inspired this sermon)

Isaiah: A Plea for God to Come

Isaiah 63-64 are written as a prayer from the perspective of the remnant of Judah. Judah once thrived, but they rebelled against God — refusing to trust him — so God sent Babylon to decimate them and their land. Isaiah has written this prayer from the perspective of these future exiles who sit in the rubble wondering what will come of the promises God made to his people. Let’s walk through this emotional prayer together.

Isaiah 63:7-14 — Where Is God? As Isaiah speaks from the perspective of people in exile, he recounts God’s steadfast love to his people in the past when his angel and even his Spirit led Israel out of Egypt and through the waters and through the wilderness. God was visibly, tangibly with his people and gave them rest. But, they look back and ask now — where is this God who did these mighty works? So, they continue with questions and laments in 63:15-19.

Isaiah 63:15-19 — Where Is Your Zeal? They are wandering from God’s ways feeling as though God himself has hardened their hearts. Based on verse 16, they appear to say that their own fathers — Abraham and Israel (Jacob)  — would not recognize them now as their children. They are not a faithful people. They are not a blessed people. They appear to have no remnant of God’s presence among them. Verse 18: the sanctuary is decimated. Verse 15: God is all the way up in his holy habitation in heaven — so where is God’s zeal and compassion? Does he feel nothing for them? So, they plead with God to act in 64:1-5a.

Isaiah 64:1-5a — Rend the Heavens and Come Down. Verse 3: Isaiah remembers how God rescued Israel from Egypt and then came down from the heavens onto Mount Sinai in a raging inferno of fire and smoke. Verse 4: he affirms that no one has ever heard or seen a God who acts for his people like Yahweh. This is the God of all those stories of mythical proportions, yet he is in heaven. And to Isaiah the clouded heavens feel like this impassible barrier between God has his people. So, in verse 1, he pleads: “Oh that you would rend the heavens and come down.” Don’t stay in your sanctuary any longer, don’t let the heavens keep you from us, tear up this barrier, act and make your adversaries and the nations tremble at your presence. They conclude by lamenting their sins and calling on God to forget their iniquities in 64:5b-12.

Isaiah 64:5b-12 —Will You Restrain Yourself? Isaiah does not pin this all on God; rather, he is disturbed by the uncleanness of his people. Even their righteous deeds are bloody and ugly. God has hidden his face, so no own wakes up  to call on God’s name. And so he begs: God, you are our potter and we are the clay (mold us!). God, don’t be angry forever.  Look at how your land has become a wilderness and your beautiful house a desolation. Will you restrain yourself? Will you keep silent?

We won’t look at it, but God replies in chapter 65: I’ve been holding my hands out to you all day, but you are a bunch of rebels who have not been returning to me.

But this is not the only place in Isaiah where the prophet longs for God’s coming:

• Isaiah 7 - Behold, a virgin will be with child and bear a son, and she will call His name Immanuel (God with us).
• Isaiah 9 - The people who walk in darkness Will see a great light; … For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; … And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.
• Isaiah 40 - “Comfort, O comfort My people,” says your God. … A voice is calling, “Clear the way for the Lord in the wilderness; Make smooth in the desert a highway for our God. … Get yourself up on a high mountain, O Zion, bearer of good news, … Say to the cities of Judah, “Here is your God!” Behold, the Lord God will come with might.
• Is. 52:7–8, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.” The voice of your watchmen—they lift up their voice; together they sing for joy; for eye to eye they see the return of the LORD to Zion.”

We could summarize the cry of Isaiah in the word of a song: O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel that mourns in lonely exile here until the Son of God appear.

Mark: The Gospel of Jesus Christ, Son of God

But, now, Mark says in 1:1-2 that he is proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ, Son of God, according to Isaiah the prophet. The gospel of Caesar’s birth and ascendency to the throne was proclaimed in those days — the whole world had fallen into disorder and chaos, but Caesar Augustus (and other Caesars after him) was born Son of God, a gift from the gods to put all things right. But, again, Mark, writes of the gospel of Jesus Son of God — and after citing Isaiah 40, he’s not done proclaiming this gospel according to Isaiah’s prophecy. As prophesied, John comes to prepare the way for Yahweh, baptizing and proclaiming in the desert that one is coming who will baptize, immerse his people with the Holy Spirit. Notice what happens when Jesus comes to be baptized by John in Mark 1:9-11.

Here are the orphaned people of God spilling loads of water in the wilderness and repenting and the encouragement of this strange man who looks curiously like Elijah of old. And as they shuffle in and out of the water hoping in and preparing for the return of God, one man — Jesus of Nazareth — is baptized. Then, he looks up — and you with him — and suddenly, Mark says, the heavens were being torn open, and God the Spirit comes down like a dove and descends on Jesus. Then the Father’s voice booms from heaven. There is much we could focus on here — the anointing of Jesus as the true, Spirit-led king or the declaration that Jesus is finally the Son who actually pleases God. But, see what Isaiah would have seen.

“Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down!” In Jesus, God did precisely that. God ripped through the barrier separating himself from man, anointed the Son with his Spirit, and God came embodied to make right what sin and darkness had broken and corrupted. “Long lay the world in sin and error pining, til He appeared and the soul felt its worth. The thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morning.”

Remember that the books of the Bible are very carefully crafted literature. Mark opens his Gospel here with how he intends to close it. Jesus goes out and shows himself to truly be Son of God — he has the authority of God’s voice to cure diseases, calm seas, transform hearts, and send the demons of Satan running. God himself has invaded the territory of Satan the strong man, has bound him, and is plundering his goods (Mark 3:27). But, in Mark, Jesus quickly begins speaking of how he must go to Jerusalem where he will be rejected, condemned, and executed. He will give his life as a ransom for many. And that’s what happens. The priests condemn him in a mock-trial, hand him over to the Romans, and he is nailed on the cross.

But notice what happens when Jesus breathes his last in 15:38. The same word is used here. The heavens are torn open at the beginning when Jesus is baptized, and now the veil is torn open at the end when he breathes his last. And what is that curtain? It is the barrier separating God from his people. Behind the veil was the most holy place which represented the very throne room of God where priests could not go except once per year. Perhaps we are intended to see that veil, in the words of one author, as “the Levitical counterpart to the heavens,” (Who Shall Ascend the Mountain of the Lord, L. Michael Morales). As Isaiah saw that the heavens separated God from his people and he longed for them to be torn, they were torn at Jesus’ baptism and now, like it, the curtain is torn when Jesus breathes his last. And though the centurion could not see this happen, we are immediately told in 15:39 that Isaiah’s hope has come true — a centurion, one from the Gentile nations, is trembling at the presence of God. God has ripped open the barrier to come to us and so that we may access him.

Concluding Reflections

Some days we feel like the people from Isaiah’s prayer.

• We look at the strength and arrogance of the enemies of God’s people and shudder.
• We look upon our own sins and the sleepy state of God’s people and weep.
• We recall the accounts of God’s activity in the past and we wonder where that God is, we wonder at God’s apparent lack of zeal to act for his people and his name, we hope he will come as the Potter to his clay.

In light of this, consider what we have seen in Isaiah and Mark.

1. Consider, God holds out his hands. God’s reply to this plea for him to come is basically, “It’s a two-way street.” I have been holding my hands out but you are asleep and unclean and not returning to me. The end of Isaiah is designed as a chiasm and in the parallel passage in Isaiah 59 God replies: my hand is not so short that it cannot save, but your sins have separated you from your God. In our good times of excesses, let us not be distracted by our pleasures to the grim reality of God’s unfinished promises. And in our darkness, weariness, discouragement, there is the need to consider that there may be a need for us to go out like the people did to John the Baptist and repent wholesale of our distraction and sin. He’s holding out his hands all day long to people who aren’t looking for him.

2. Consider, God ripped open the heavens and the veil. What I love about Christmas season is that when it is colder and darker, people hang Christmas lights. If we will have eyes to see the ancient tradition, we can be reminded that for thousands of years the weary world waited in darkness, but when the night was half spent, the true light of the world came to dispel the darkness. The heavens were ripped open, God’s Spirit came down; the curtain was opened, and the way to the most holy place was opened. God is signaling to us that the time of our separation finally nearing its end — he is coming to us, and until then we can go to him to receive help. I don’t know if you feel what I feel, but Scripture says we receive God’s Spirit when we are baptized, and I think from now on when I witness a baptism, I am going to feel like the heavens are being ripped open all over again for God’s Spirit to come and invade Satan’s dark territory with a little more light.

3. The Lord will come from heaven again. We are not to look back at God’s first coming in Jesus as a single occurrence, but this ultimately builds hope in the day when the heavens will be ripped wide open on the last day and when he will descend for our salvation — to change us, execute wrath on our enemies, to lay bare the earth, the unleash his Spirit to make all things new, to gather us to himself, and to set his presence among us fully and finally forever.

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here,
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Series: N/A

Service: Sun AM

Type: Sermon

Speaker: John Kilgore

Series: Technology and the Christian

Service: Sun AM

Type: Sermon

Speaker: Scott Kercheville

Psa. 119:37 ESV, “Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in your ways.”

Heb. 12:1–2 NIV, “Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles… fixing our eyes on Jesus… For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Luke 23:47–48 ESV, “Now when the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God, saying, ‘Certainly this man was innocent!’ And all the crowds that had assembled for this spectacle, when they saw what had taken place, returned home beating their breasts.”

Col. 2:15 NIV, “And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.”

1 Cor. 1:22–24 ESV, “Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.”

We live in what has been dubbed by some as the age of the spectacle. By spectacle I do not mean glasses through which we see, but a thing we look at. Tony Reinke, whose book, Competing Spectacles, inspired this lesson, defines a spectacle as “A moment of time… in which collective gaze is fixed on some specific image, event, or moment. A spectacle is something that captures human attention, an instant in which our eyes and brains focus and fixate on something projected at us.”

As we move to the table this morning, I want to put a pebble in our shoes with an assertion:  The cross is spectacular, but constantly putting a worthless yet awe-inspiring spectacle before our eyes can desensitize our awe and veil our faces so that we struggle to see the glory of the Lord in the cross — the greatest spectacle ever devised.

In 21st century America, our eyes have the opportunity to continually consume all manner of visual wonders through our media. Ad-makers, streaming services, sports providers, social media outlets,  news sites, and the gaming industry continually pump out high quality, hilarious, ridiculous, dramatic, awesome, seductive, and spectacular photos and videos. Today, everything is a spectacle — not just entertainment and sports. News, politics, war, and local disasters are sensationalized and broadcast everywhere simply for our information, shock, and viewing pleasure. 720,000 hours of video are uploaded to YouTube alone every day— which would require 82 years to watch uninterrupted. “Never satisfied are the eyes of man.” (Prov. 27:20 ESV) Never before have people had such a visual feast continually available to them. But, does partaking in this visual feast have any effect on our appetite as we come to the Lord’s feast? There’s different opinions here, but research suggests that for many even listening to this sermon is difficult unless spectacular visuals are displayed — not because we are genetically predisposed to only be able to learn through visuals, but potentially because we have trained ourselves through our media to need to see in order to hear and believe (do your own research: the myth of visual learning).

“You will indeed hear but never understand, and you will indeed see but never perceive. For this people’s heart has grown dull, and with their ears they can barely hear, and their eyes they have closed…” (Matt. 13:14–15 ESV)

Spectacles call out to not be ignored. They want our likes, love, outrage, sharing, retweeting, and cheering. They want us to tap and buy, worship, pick sides, pledge allegiance, pick up a gun, and serve them. At their best, the right spectacles — like the temple in Jerusalem, the cross, baptism,  the assembling of the saints, or the Lord’s Supper — can draw someone closer to true glory and true worship. At their worst, flashy worldly spectacles blind us to true glory and win our cheers, likes, affection, and action for something fleeting, forbidden, or simply worthless.

“If our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” (2 Cor. 4:3–4 ESV)

Spectacles are not new. The ancient world had pagan temples and idols which were crafted to be visually spectacular to pull at sentiments and win worship. Imposing images of kings were scattered in strategic locations throughout the ancient world to remind those who lived there to be faithful in their allegiance. Ancient Greece was known for their spectacles in the amphitheater: plays, comedies, tragedies, performances of various sorts. Sporting competitions were also popular: people ran, wrestled, and boxed one another bloody. But the arena of the Roman Empire was especially gruesome. Animal hunts, gladiator fights, and public executions all took place before the cheering and booing of the hungry crowds who gathered to behold a spectacle. But these did not serve to merely entertain; politicians put these exhibitions and shows on to leverage the allegiance of their people and to win social and political power — similar to how our own government subsidizes sports teams if and only if they fly the flag and sound the anthem.

Around AD 200, Christian author Tertullian wrote a short book called De Spectaculis or On the Shows. In it he rebukes Christians for returning to the shows — the plays, the circuses, the fights, and the various spectacles and amusements. He offers four reasons why they must abstain as they had before. First, the spectacles are associated with idolatry and demons. Second, the things the actors and fighters do are sinful. “He condemned violent sports that disfigured the bodies of God’s image bearers.” (Reinke, pg. 71) If it is sinful to do on the streets, it is sinful to watch on the stage. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” (Matt. 5:8 ESV) Third, the chief sign to pagans that someone has adopted the Christian faith is their rejection of these amusements.

But in the final six chapters, Tertullian offers a fourth objection that maybe you can relate to: Christians are “sighing for goal-posts, the stage, the dust, the arena” when they should long for and be satisfied by the numerous spectacles God has given us in Christ. Where is that same hunger for Christ’s body and blood? energy to conquer sin? anticipation over the return of our Lord?

We have the challenge of coming back to the table week after week and being awed at the spectacle of the cross that never changes. We know the story — it’s not new. But worldly spectacles are are always fresh and new. Our hunger to be drawn into an exciting story full of mystery and purpose is easily fed with the a tap. But does it dare satisfy our hunger and thirst for the body  and blood of our Lord? our wonder over the cross? or our anticipation of his coming?

There is an exciting story full of wonder and meaning in the cross if we will continually press into it, meditate on it, and wonder. Because, actually, the cross of Christ is a spectacle. It is a spectacle devised by both the Romans and by God himself.

We often rehearse the pain of the cross, but crucifixions were designed by the Romans to not only maximize pain, but shame. The Romans made a public spectacle of thousands of runaway slaves and insurrectionists by stripping them naked, pinning them to a tree or a cross at eye-level by a busy road with their crimes written above their head so everyone could see and be warned. Those passing by saw someone who was naked and humiliated before all. The spectacle was designed to send a clear message: Rome is in charge, stay in your place.

Jesus’ crucifixion carried an irony that made it even more of a display. He made himself out to be a king, so they adorned him with a scarlet robe and a crown of thorns. They put a reed in his hand, bowed before him and cried, “Hail, King of the Jews!” Then they took his “scepter” and struck him over the head and spit on him. Then, as with others who were crucified, they paraded him a through the streets — a walking spectacle. When he was crucified, the charge written above his head read, “THIS IS JESUS, THE KING OF THE JEWS.” Crowds gathered for the spectacle and mocked him. For some, there’s something amusing about the visage of a faux king nailed to a cross. Here’s the man who would become king! This YouTube video would have gone viral.

But, two people saw right through the this show put on by Israel and Rome. First, the criminal crucified next to Jesus. When one criminal started railing against Jesus, the other criminal defended him. But notice his astonishing request in Luke 23:42. Before this criminal’s eyes is a beaten and bloodied Jesus. Yet, despite this visage crafted to expose a faux king, he’s certain: Jesus is the Son of David and I don’t know how, but he’s still going to come into kingdom power. He didn’t let the worldly spectacle blind him to a more shocking, mysterious wonder before his eyes: the king who’s going to rescue the world is about to die next to me on a cross.

Mark’s account accentuates the same thing with the centurion. The Roman soldier in charge of ensuring Jesus died was watching closely past his own spectacle that he was putting on and notice Mark 15:39. For everyone else, Jesus on a cross is a sign that he’s not the Messiah. Furthermore, when we see how Jesus is raised from the dead, we cry, “Jesus is Lord!” But, like the criminal, when the centurion saw how he died he exclaimed, “Son of God!” Here there was no miracle. The humility and grace with which Jesus died was a spectacle of its own that created faith in these two men. When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died… At the cross, at the cross —where I first saw the light.

Satan worked with rulers to plot the cross as a grand spectacle of rebellion — “God is dead!” — but Paul tells us in Colossians 2 that in the cross Jesus disarmed the evil forces of heaven and made a public spectacle of them. The whole cross event was planned by God as a spectacle for the ages to draw in the nations. It is a spectacle of triumph over Satan and of glory for the Son. When the Greeks wanted to see Jesus, Jesus said he would he cast down the god of this world and draw all men to himself only when he was lifted up on the cross.

We long to see glory. Do we want to see a carefully crafted story full of irony, foreshadowing, highs, and lows? Look to the Scriptures and see the climax of history at the cross. Do we want to see the ultimate upset? The powers of earth made a spectacle of Jesus, so they sealed the tomb, and patted one another on the back — but death could not keep its prey, he tore the bars away, Jesus my Lord. Do we want to see conquest? Jesus went to the spiritual powers who previously rebelled and proclaimed his victory over them. Do we want to see a love story? “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Rom. 5:8 ESV) Do you want to a messed up family come together in unity? Try the table of the Lord. Would you have blood? Here, you have the Lord’s. At the cross Satan and his forces are thrown down, captives are set free from his grip, history reaches its climax in a decisive victory, and the greatest love ever known is put on display.As we move to the table, I want to conclude by briefly pointing us to three Jesus-displaying spectacles.

First, the assembled body of the Lord. Paul says in Ephesians 1:22 that the church is Jesus’ body, the fullness of him who fills all and all. Jesus is filling all things and we are the fullness of Jesus by which he fills all things. As we gather today, if we have eyes to see it, we experience the fullness of — in a sense, Jesus incarnated. Here are his hands, his feet, his heart, his eyes, and mouth. This is why we cannot assemble on Zoom and I believe we all came to see the six weeks we did not meet last year as harmful: incarnation is not virtual. We only had a few days to make a decision and we were doing the best we could at the time with what we knew and I even supported our decision, but the pandemic has taught us something. If in the future safety is ever at risk — whether due to pandemic or persecution — I hope we will consider other solutions because Zoom can present a theological problem. Some things can be mediated well through letters, pictures, and videos. But not assemblies. “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” and we need to see and experience in the assembled body — whether few or many — the fullness of the Lord incarnated.

Second, the suffering church. God put Jesus on display at the cross to send a message to the world, and he intends to put us on display too. Did you see that in the Scripture reading from 2 Corinthians 4? Paul says that wherever he goes, as he suffers and yet still endures, he is carrying around the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus is manifested.

He talks about his suffering in this way elsewhere too. 1 Cor. 4:9 NLT, “I sometimes think God has put us apostles on display, like prisoners of war at the end of a victor’s parade, condemned to die. We have become a spectacle to the entire world—to people and angels alike.” 2 Cor. 2:14 NLT, “But thank God! He has made us his captives and continues to lead us along in Christ’s triumphal procession. Now he uses us to spread the knowledge of Christ everywhere, like a sweet perfume.” When Rome conquered other peoples, they brought back prisoners and held a parade — a triumphal procession — in the city of Rome. The Roman general would lead a procession of the spoils of war along with a train of captives. Those at the end of the procession would be executed before the gathered crowds in order to demonstrate Rome’s power. Paul says this is an example of how God uses him — and I believe he intends for us to all take on this role. For the lost world and even the angels, God has not only penned his word, he’s also sent us out — his conquered slaves soberly take on the shame of Jesus and accept becoming outsiders. We don’t seek to fit into the cities of this world nor to revel in their spectacles; rather, seeking the city to come, we become God’s submissive, self-sacrificing spectacles to draw the world to the cross of Christ (cf. Heb. 10:32-33). We go outside the city to bear his reproach (cf. Heb. 13:13-14). Maybe, when they see how we “breath our last,” submit, and deny ourselves with as Jesus did, they’ll come to the cross. Furthermore, when we suffer and endure among one another, we manifest the cross and the resurrection. But again, try mediating that through a screen. Paul is appealing to what the Corinthians have seen in him.

Third, the table of the Lord. Now we commune with the Lord and — despite our differences — with one another as we anticipate the great banquet feast in the Kingdom of God. That great day will be the show-stopping spectacle to end all others! He will come in the clouds with trumpet sound and we will be gathered to him. But today, until he does come, what we eat and drink now is the body and blood of the Lord himself. What a wonder: our host is our sacrificial meal. And this is an altar that no great priest or ruler outside these walls may eat at. What a privilege.

We won’t be continually awed every day at the wonder of the cross. It’s not good to over-emphasize emotions. But, may I call this church to have the discipline to set aside the continual visual feast of our culture more often so we can develop better appetites for all the wonder of Jesus and the cross — to consume his body and drink his blood.

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Service: Sun AM

Type: Sermon

Speaker: John Kilgore

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Service: Sun AM

Type: Sermon

Speaker: Troxel Ballou

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Service: Sun AM

Type: Sermon

Speaker: John Kilgore

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Service: Sun AM

Type: Sermon

Speaker: Scott Kercheville