Crucified and Risen
Stephen Terry
Commentary for the June 27, 2015
Sabbath School Lesson
“And when Jesus had cried out again
in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit.”
“At that moment the
curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the
rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had
died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection
and went into the holy city and appeared to many people.”
“When the centurion and
those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had
happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, ‘Surely he was the Son of God!’” Matthew 27:50-54, NIV
No event has
defined the world we live in to the extent that the life of one individual,
Jesus, has. Even our calendars are founded upon the significance of what
happened two thousand years ago. Many still speak of the current year as 2015
AD, with the AD meaning Anno Domini
or “the year of our Lord.” Recently a more secularized version of CE or Common Era has come into use, but the
numbering of the years remains the same, beginning at that pivotal time in
history. But why does it matter?
Perhaps it
matters because those who become aware of the existence of Jesus are faced with
a decision like the centurion at the crucifixion. Was He the Son of God or not?
Some are drawn to Him and come to believe His words, others choose to turn away,
rejecting His claims and any salvation professedly offered. The stark nature of
such a claim to divinity seems to demand a choice. Even ignoring it may be
making a decision as to its relevance. Those who decide to accept His claim are
drawn inexorably like moths to the light. Those who doubt its significance may continue
to feel the pull of the light, but turn away so the light source no longer has
a place in their vision.
At first
they may see clearly the shadows cast by the light behind them, but as they
focus more and more on the shadows, the light that clearly defines those
shadows, over time, may become less and less distinct until only the movement
of the shadows is visible, eventually it may even fade into total darkness at
death. The Bible speaks often of this choice as repentance. Some may define
this as forsaking evil, but the Greek word for it seems to indicate an about
face, a 180 degree turnaround. Instead of walking away from the light, we
decide to turn and walk toward it. This changes much. It is a property of light
that when we have our back turned to it, we see shadows, but when we turn and
walk toward it, the dark shadows fall behind us.
An interesting
aspect of light is that although we have trouble defining it, we still
recognize its value. Every home with a flashlight or a lamp is a tribute to its
importance. When we examine its properties we find paradoxes that allow light
to appear as both particles and waves. Groundbreaking studies into this
phenomenon led to several Nobel Prizes in physics and the current theory that
the photon particles themselves may be small packets of waves.[i]
However, the more we delve into the various aspects of physics, the more we
discover that uncertainty may be the only ultimate takeaway that we can be
certain of. Nonetheless, like the primal discovery of fire, we do not need to
have a complete knowledge of its physical properties to appreciate its value
for warmth and light.
In spite of
the scientific understanding of the intrinsic nature of uncertainty in our
universe,[ii]
it is perhaps interesting that some who consider themselves scientifically
oriented demand certainty in matters of faith. Unless the existence of God can
be proven by scientific method, they will continue to struggle with accepting
His existence. Yet, all the while, through their endorsement of the scientific
method, they demonstrate faith in something that at some level ultimately
becomes uncertain.
Be that as
it may, by definition faith means an ability to choose. And whether the choice
is made one way or another, it is evidence that faith is the final extension
beyond which knowledge does not penetrate. Exercising faith through choice may
be the ultimate definition of freedom. One may have obedience without choice,
but not faith. Faith may have some evidence derived from experience or
observation, but at some point it becomes belief in a possibility as opposed to
a certainty. For instance, if someone promises to walk my dog tomorrow, I have
no proof they will actually perform according to the promise, but I choose to
have faith that they will based perhaps on a flier on a grocery store bulletin
board, or a friend’s referral or even my own past experience with the one taking
the dog out. Most of us are not troubled by this exercise of faith in another.
However, if I have faith in God based on what is written in the Bible, or because
of testimonials given by friends, or my own past experience with God, some
begin to find this problematic.
Perhaps this
is why so many try to find arguments for God’s existence like Sir Isaac Newton’s
“Watchmaker Argument,”[iii]
or Michael Behe’s “Irreducible Complexity Argument.”[iv]
Perhaps this apologetic tendency is why so much of church evangelizing has
become more about winning the argument for faith than about sharing the
experience of faith. Maybe this tendency
grew out of the Age of Enlightenment of the 18th century, also
called the Age of Reason. With a new found freedom of choice based on the pursuit
of knowledge for its own sake, many ideas began to compete in the marketplace,
giving rise in the 19th century to Idealism, Marxism, and Existentialism,
among others. In this new atmosphere, the church also, like Paul in Athens,[v]
apparently felt it must compete in that marketplace of ideas. Traveling evangelists
would show up in a town offering to debate all comers as to the correctness of
their theological views. This, perhaps, was the source for the eventual
evolution into the evangelist who would travel from town to town with prophetic
charts in tow, holding weeks long meetings aimed at convincing the audience by
force of argument of the primacy of their doctrinal stance.
In all of
this, there may be an abandonment of the idea of a personal, experiential relationship
with Jesus Christ. The arguments can become less about what one has experienced
with Jesus and more about what can be argued about Jesus. While this may win
some converts to a denominational position, the lack of relational attachment
may leave those converts lacking when someone comes to town with a better
argument, or even a weaker argument but a better presentation. Perhaps it is
important to reduce the complexity of all of this back down to the essential
decision of what to do about Jesus. It may be significant that He never said, “The
more you know about theology, the better you will be able to win arguments on
My behalf.” But He did say that if He is lifted up, all will be drawn to Him.[vi]
Like so many other sayings of Jesus, this may be true on several levels. This
could refer to His being lifted on the cross of crucifixion. This could refer
to His ascension. It may also refer to our glorifying Him through our testimony
about Him, perhaps even about these two events in particular.
It seems foundational then that effective witness may consist not in our esoteric
theological knowledge about the Bible, church history, or even prophetic
interpretation. Perhaps it consists in introducing someone to the person of
Jesus Christ. If He is to be ultimately fair, God will make sure that each
person on the face of the earth, past present and future, will have an
opportunity to decide whether they will have a relationship with Him or not. Nonetheless,
we are given the opportunity to have the precious privilege to participate in
that work by sharing with others what that experience has meant to us. Arguments,
even theological ones, may be countered, but personal experience is hard to
refute. While angels and even God can reach out to the lost, they do not have
the personal experience of salvation that we do. That experience can be a
powerful persuasion to turn toward God. Not because we have a rock-solid
argument, but because we ourselves have been saved.
Like the
centurion on Calvary, we each come to believe on our own as we behold Jesus, even
though we may have had the witness of others.[vii]
I have often wondered about how things went for that centurion after that day.
Speculation about that resulted in the 1953 movie “The Robe.” In that movie, the
Roman soldier in charge of the crucifixion detail, Marcellus, finds the way to
Jesus through his experience of that day and those that followed. Perhaps, if
we decide to lift up our experience with Jesus for others, we will one day
discover stories like that, stories where after hearing about our experience, people
have gone on to have a personal, saving relationship with Jesus without our
knowledge. What a blessing and joy that would be.
