Jesus Son of David
Psalm 23:1-6 Matthew 20:29-34 Philippians 2:5-11
It was a typical Sunday morning. We had finished the morning worship service and I was greeting those in attendance as they were leaving. At the end of the line was a mother with her young son in tow. Nothing out of the ordinary until she began to share a conversation she had with her son during the worship service – a conversation about me. A conversation that began with his asking the question, “Mommy, is that Jesus standing up there?” I smiled, patted him on the head, and said, “Well, bless his little heart. And tell me mom, what did you tell him?” She said, “I told him, “Yes honey, that’s Jesus.” “Oh No! No!” I replied. “Please don’t tell him that.” “Why not,” she replied, “Don’t you know that you’re the only Jesus he knows!”
And with that statement, at that moment in the early stages of my ministry, a little boy taught me a profound lesson about the human struggle of understanding the divine.
Although I shuttered at the thought of being a role model of the divine for anyone, the more I thought about it, the more his mother’s answer made sense.
As I have participated over the years in my own human struggle to understand the divine, it has occurred to me that the Biblical history of man’s relationship with God is in many ways a chronicle of the human struggle of understanding the divine.
And the specific events that make up the whole of that Biblical history are accounts of God’s attempts to convey his will to his people, and the struggles of his people trying to understand that will for their lives.
The human struggle of understanding the divine.
The same struggle that each of us face every day as we try to understand the will of God for our lives.
The same struggle we as a church face every day as we try to understand God’s will for ministry.
The scriptures call it discernment. The Old Testament Hebrew word for discernment means the ability to make the right choice. The New Testament Greek word means to examine and interpret.
Thus, discernment becomes the human struggle to examine and interpret God’s will in such a way that enables us to make the right choices in how we live our lives.
Just as the Biblical account bears witness to this human struggle of discernment, it also provides us with some insight into how the people of God have tried to do it.
And I would suggest to you today that the most common methodology employed by God’s people in their human struggle of understanding the divine is comparing the unknown to the known.
Finding and using common, understandable points of reference, with which we can compare the unknown to the known, as a means of helping us to examine and interpret God’s will for our lives.
In particular, the common practice of assigning names, descriptions, traits, or characteristics to the unknown of the divine, that has a known human counterpart – a real life comparison – a point of reference.
For instance, something as simple as a name became a connecting point for people living in the Old Testament era, in their struggle to understand the nature of God.
God was not just God. God was:
Jehovah – The Lord: The people of the time understood the concept of lord because it was a common title of power and authority – often the absolute power and authority one person had over others.
From that common image of God as Lord, there evolved the image of:
Jehovah-Jireh: The Lord, our provider.
The one with the power and authority to take care of them.
We see this reflected in the writings of the Psalms, in particular, our Psalm text for today.
O Lord, my provider, you prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Jehovah-Nissi: The Lord, our shield.
The one with the power and authority to protect and defend.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Jehovah-Shalom: The Lord of peace:
The one with the power and authority to maintain order and stability. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.
As the Old Testament drama of divine discernment journeys forward, we are introduced to the El names:
El Shaddi: The god of the mountains – God almighty – the I Am of the New Testament.
El Elyon: The exalted one – worthy of praise and worship.
El Olam: The god of eternity – Again an understanding of the nature of
God as reflected in the Psalms. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of
the Lord forever.
El Roi: The God who sees me – a God who has a personal knowledge
of, and plays an active role in, the daily routine of his creation. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
All names which by their design created common, familiar, understandable, images as points of reference in the early human struggles to understand the scope and majesty of the power and authority of God over his creation.
Other Old Testament names, descriptions, traits, or characteristics assigned to the unknown of the divine include rock, father, brother, kinsman, king, judge, even the imagery of the Lord as a shepherd. Not just any shepherd. Rather, the Lord as my shepherd.
As we make the transition from the Old Testament era into New Testament times, we see carried over the same human struggle of understanding the divine, just as we see the same common methodology employed by God’s people for doing it.
Many would suggest that the very incarnation of God into the human form of Jesus was God’s way of attempting to better convey his will to his people.
Think about it! What better way to assist the human struggle of understanding the divine than to put the divine in a human package. A real person whose own humanness would serve as a point of reference for an understanding the nature of God.
And although you would think that such a walking, talking, tangible, visible human point of reference would do the job, we still see the common practice of assigning a name, description, trait, or characteristic to the unknown of the divine, that has a known human counterpart.
By one count, the New Testament contains over fifty such images of who Jesus was. I have listed some of them on the back of your bulletin.
Names, descriptions, traits, or characteristics that were attributed to Jesus by others, as well as some he used to describe himself.
And I would suggest to you today that much, if not all, of the earthly ministry of Jesus was consumed with his demonstrating through the word and deed of his life, the true nature of God.
Following the resurrection and ascension, the early church continued to struggle with the discernment of God’s word and will.
The majority of the New Testament is the record of how the people of God struggled together to interpret God’s will in order to make the right choices regarding how they should develop an organized system of beliefs and practices. The same struggle we as a church face every day as we try to understand God’s will for ministry.
When I look at the big picture it seems to me that regardless of what images were used to define and understand the divine: Whether the Father of the Old Testament, the Son of the Gospels, or the Holy Spirit of the New Testament church, the focus was consistently on the unique nature of the divine as realized in the power and authority of an almighty God, packaged in the humanness of love and compassion.
And I would suggest that nowhere is this more apparent than in image of Jesus the Son.
For God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only son…
The relationship between a parent and a child is one of the most basic of all human images.
However, because the relationship of Jesus as a Son contained an element of the divine, an element of the unknown, we see the dynamics of that relationship being defined by the use of names, descriptions, traits, or characteristics.
Five weeks ago, I invited you to join with me on a yearlong journey to become a What-Would-Jesus-Do church. And I suggested that in order to become a WWJD church, we first have to know what Jesus would do. And in order to know what Jesus would do, we first have to know him.
To know nothing but Jesus Christ. If you will, I invited you to join me in writing the 2001 chapter of our contemporary human struggle to understand the divine.
During Advent and our celebration of Christmas, we examined the birth of Christ, interestingly enough, by employing the use of names, descriptions, traits, or characteristics to help us better understand the nature of his birth.
In particular, the imagery of the birth of Jesus as a gift. Jesus the gift of light. Jesus the gift of salvation. Jesus the gift of Love. Jesus the gift of life.
During the past month, we have made the transition from his birth to the beginnings of his earthly ministry through the common imagery of wisdom, water, and wine.
Today, I invite you to continue with me on our journey of discernment as we examine and attempt to interpret Jesus, as the Son of David.
In order for us to understand the image of Jesus as the Son of David, we first have to know something about David and something about what that description meant to the Jews of Jesus’ time.
In the eleventh century before Christ, the Philistines who lived in the coastal regions of the Promised Land of Canaan were a critical military threat to the survival of the Israelites. The Israelites believed that having a king would enable them to withstand their enemies and to solidify their identity as a nation. Thus, Saul was anointed Israel’s first king around 1020 B.C.
Saul was an okay king. Although able to effectively control the Philistine threat for a period of time, he eventually fell victim to a form of insanity, which ultimately led to his committing suicide.
Meanwhile God had prepared for Saul’s fall by grooming a young shepherd boy named David, son of Jesse from Bethlehem, to become Israel’s second king.
During his reign, David established Jerusalem as the seat of government and the religious center of a unified Israel.
Settled into his new capital, David offered to build a new temple for the worship of God. Instead of accepting his offer, God gave David a promise:
II Samuel 7:16: Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me: Your throne shall be established forever.
In later years, when times became hard, when the kingdom divided into northern and southern kingdoms, when bad kings ruled, when other kings and kingdoms occupied Israel, the Jews remembered King David and the promise God made to him. For all the faults of David during his lifetime, and those faults were apparently many, he became the symbol of the best of Israel’s times and the best of Israel’s rulers. Because God had promised to establish David’s throne forever, the people thought surely God would send a new anointed king.
Thus we hear the Old Testament prophets say things like:
For to us a child will be born, to us a son will be given, and the government will be on his shoulders. The first occasion, by the way, in which the imagery of a son is used to describe the coming messiah.
And we sense their human struggle of understanding the nature of a coming divine messiah when the prophets use names, descriptions, traits, or characteristics that probably represented the best of the best of times.
Things like Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
And we hear the prophets tell the people to stand firm, don’t give up, because when the anointed one arrives, he will reign on David’s throne
and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever.
And we know this to be true because the zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.
Ever wonder why when the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, to tell him of the impending birth of Jesus, the angel began the announcement with: Joseph, Son of David, do not be afraid.
I find it interesting that the woman chosen by God to bear the savior just happened to be engaged to a man named Joseph, who was of the house and lineage of David.
And its quite a coincidence isn’t it that the first ever census of the Roman Empire would be scheduled at the same time Mary was in the latter stages of her pregnancy. A census that required Joseph to take her with him to Bethlehem the birthplace of David, the same Bethlehem that became the birthplace of Jesus.
This hope for a perfect king in the image of David and the reestablishment of a wide-ranging kingdom of Israel was held by many Jews during the first century of the Christian era. Surely God would send a new king to remove the tyranny of Rome and to return the chosen people of Israel to their proper greatness!
You suppose that’s why as Jesus entered Jerusalem for the last time, many of the folks along his route shouted, “Hosanna (which means save us) to the Son of David?”
To call Jesus the Son of David was to associate him with all the good qualities of David and his kingdom. In particular, the power and authority of an almighty God, that was packaged in the humanness of a loving and compassionate king.
And I find it no surprise that other than the account of Jesus’entry into Jerusalem, the only other occasions in which he is referred to as the Son of David (there are only four) are associated with healing from what many considered to be the worst of all handicaps – Blindness and demon possession.
Blindness was considered the most dreaded of all physical handicaps because it would render a person more helpless and vulnerable than any others. Of course, it was a given that it was caused by sin, in some cases sin in the form of a curse invoked as punishment for misconduct. Consequently, only God alone could cure it.
It was believed that demonic possession was caused by the spirits of the devil literally taking up residence in a human spirit. Consequently, they could only be expelled by invoking against them the superior power of God.
If you were blind or demon possessed, your only hope was salvation by the full force and might of the power and authority of God almighty.
The very power and authority of God that was packaged in the humanness of a loving and compassionate Jesus the Son of David.
In Matthew 9:27, we are told of two blind men calling out, "Have mercy on us, Son of David!"
In Matthew 12:23, we see a man who is both demon-possessed and blind. And when Jesus heals him of both, the only way the people witnessing such a manifestation of the divine is to stand astonished and say, "Could this be the Son of David?"
In Matthew 15:22, we hear a woman whose daughter is suffering terribly from demon-possession come to Jesus crying out, "Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me!
And in our Matthew text for today, we are told of two blind men sitting by the roadside, and when they hear Jesus was going by, they shout, "Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!" And when the crowd tells them to be quiet, they shout all the louder, "Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!"
All of which are examples of their recognizing Jesus as the one possessing the power and authority of God necessary to heal, a power they apparently believed was embodied in the love and compassion of Jesus.
"Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!"
You might find it interesting to note that the Greek word, from which we get our English word mercy, also means love and compassion.
Now, what does all of this say to us? How does this Son of David image plug into our contemporary walk of faith? How does Jesus The Son of David find meaning for us on the same level as it did for blind guys, people possessed by demons, or the Jews of the first century?
Allow me to suggest that the image of Jesus as the Son of David can become a powerful reference point in our human struggle to discern the will of God in our lives when we reaffirm our connection to the source of power and authority embodied in the name of Jesus, in whatever form that name might take.
The power and authority that can prepare a table before you in the presence of your enemies even when the junk food of life has made you so sick to your stomach you don’t feel like eating.
The power and authority that can immerse your whole being with the healing oil of love and compassion, especially in those times in your life when circumstances so numb you that you find it difficult to feel anything, let alone love and compassion.
The power and authority that can sustain us, comfort us, empower us when we find ourselves walking through what looks a lot like the valley of the shadow of death.
The power and authority that can create order and stability out of the chaos of our lives.
The power and authority that can so overwhelm us with the peace of God that the barren desert of our lives can be transformed into green pastures and the raging storms of life can be replaced with quiet waters.
The power and authority that can restore our souls even when we think they are beyond restoration.
The power and authority we experience when we reaffirm our connection to the source of that power and authority as a deliberate and intentional part of the daily routine of our lives.
The two blind men were deliberate and intentional in their resolve to connect with that source of power and authority. When they cried out, Jesus Son of David, have mercy on us, the crowd told them to shut up. So what did they do? They shouted all the louder, Jesus Son of David, have mercy on us.
And when they connected with Jesus, something happened! Their lives were forever changed! Changed in the same way our lives can be changed when ordinary people like you and me hear the Lord knocking, open the door and let the presence and power of his Holy Spirit connect with our spirit.
Isn’t it amazing the power contained in a name? I have it on good authority that the mere mention of a name can calm the storm, heal the broken, and raise the dead. Hatred and bitterness turn to love and forgiveness, and arguments cease.
And did you know that there is a day coming when every voice that has ever uttered a sound – every voice of Adam’s race shall raise in one great mighty chorus to proclaim a name… the name of Jesus – for in that day every knee shall bow and every tongue shall confess that Jesus Christ is truly Lord!
One final point: With power and authority comes responsibility.
The last thing Matthew records Jesus saying to the disciples is:
Matthew 28:18: All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore, go and make disciples… and at that point in the drama of our faith, Jesus endowed all disciples, present company included, with that same divine authority packaged in the responsibility of using it to make disciples.
The responsibility to examine and interpret God’s will in such a way that enables us to make the right choices in how we live our lives…
Lives that become a demonstration of what can happen when our faith rests on God’s power rather than man’s wisdom.
Lives that quite possibly could serve as a walking, talking, tangible, visible point of reference for others in their human struggle to understand the divine.
For you see, you too may be the only Jesus that someone knows!
