The Apostle’s Creed, which we are studying, is a creed of contrasts. Listen to the stark opposites to which we profess faith: “I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary.” From that great pronouncement of Christ’s uniqueness, glory and deity, we immediately go to the next part of the creed that says, “Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried.” We go from mystery, grandeur and beauty to degradation, misery and death. It is a constant reminder that Christ left his home and position in Glory to experience life on earth. He left everything to be partners with us in the pilgrimage of life. God created the world, and then was born into it. He came to suffer and die in the world which he had made.
When we say that we believe that Jesus suffered under Pontius Pilate, we mean that Jesus was a real person who existed in real time and history on planet earth. He who was fully God became fully man. But in order to become fully human, it meant that, first of all, Jesus Christ humbled himself. We will never understand the depth of Christ’s humility in coming to the earth. The Bible says, “Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death — even death on a cross!” (Philippians 2:5-8). You can almost hear the writer of those words gasp with wonder at the very thought of the truth his words described. God emptied himself. Theologians call this the kenosis, coming from the Greek word meaning “to empty.” The question is: What was it that Jesus emptied himself of when he came to earth? Was it his divinity? No, for he was still God, though he wore the disguise of a human body. Was he emptied of his power? It might appear that way, but he still had the power to forgive sin. He had the power to heal disease and make withered limbs whole. He had the power to bring life back into bodies that were dead. He had power over nature so that he could stop a storm and calm a sea with a single word. He was not completely limited in knowledge because he knew the name of Zacchaeus before he was told (Luke 19). He saw Nathaniel before he ever met him, and described what Nathaniel was doing even though he was a great distance away (John 1:48). He knew the life history of the woman at the well whom he had never met her before (John 4:4-26).
What was it then that he did not have on earth that he did have before in eternity? His divine nature was intact, and he retained divine power and knowledge, but he was robbed of his glory, his dignity, and his divine prerogatives and splendor as God. “Being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself.” But it went beyond humility, for the Bible says, “Yet it was the LORD’S will to crush him and cause him to suffer....” (Isaiah 53:10). He wanted to do it for you, and because of that, the Bible writer says, “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:2). When Jesus’ task on earth was done he prayed: “And now, Father, glorify me in your presence with the glory I had with you before the world began” (John 17:5). He knew he would return once again to the presence of the Father’s glory.
A few years ago I read a book entitled Beyond Survival, by Gerald Coffee, a Navy pilot who was shot down over North Vietnam. It is the fascinating story of his experience as a POW. One of the striking things about the book is when he talks about what it is like to be stripped of your identity. One moment he was a hot-shot pilot in the United States Naval Air Force. He had the respect of his peers and the admiration of his country. He wore his gold wings with pride, and stood tall in his navy pilot’s uniform. He was unique in the sense that he was one of the few who were privileged to fly the nation’s hottest multimillion dollar planes with all the latest technology. But he was sitting in his high-tech jet, with helmet and flight suit, one moment, and the next moment he was floating in the ocean, and being pursued by people in primitive boats who could not even set a digital clock. Out of the glory of the skies, and the praise he received for being there, he came down to earth and was being approached by people that, until now, had been invisible to him. They put him in a squalid cell that smelled of human waste. They took away his wings, his flight suit, his rings and all personal belongings. From his clean, sophisticated surroundings he was now a prisoner, enveloped by filth and stench. Where once he had been praised, now he was cursed. Where once he was appreciated, now he was hated. Where he once had a privileged position of prominence, now he was no one. He had no position, no rank, no identity, and no respect. He was tortured in unthinkable ways. He was humiliated. But he endured it all because he was able to think of those he loved, and the fact that he was there because of them. He was willing to experience the shame and torture, both emotionally and physically, if it would save his loved ones and keep them free.
That is what Jesus Christ did for you and me. He humbled himself. He came from the glory of the skies, losing his prominence and glory for those he loved. Suddenly, he found himself in a world where he was misunderstood, hated, misused, tortured and eventually killed, because he cared about you and me. He wanted to save his loved ones and keep us free, and he was willing to come here and experience it all to make sure that new life would be available to us.
In heaven he had been the object of worship. On earth he was the object of contempt and scorn. The Creator had placed himself in the hands of his creation. Here is the mystery of God. Here is where our minds stand still and are overcome with awe and wonder. As Charles Wesley wrote in his great hymn: “‘Tis mystery all! The Immortal dies. Who can explore his strange design?”
But, secondly, he not only humbled himself, Jesus Christ surrendered himself. An old Japanese legend has it that Jesus did not die on the cross. Rather, when he was threatened with crucifixion, he fled to Siberia, and then went through Alaska to finally arrive in the remote mountains of northern Japan. It was Jesus’ brother who was actually the one who was crucified, the legend says, while Jesus married and had three daughters, living to the ripe old age of 106. According to the legend he lived in Shingo, Japan where they still have a museum today. This legend tries to say that Jesus avoided the cross instead of surrendering to it or any other kind of suffering. Interestingly, Jesus is said not to have performed any miracles in Japan, and they have no record of anything he said while there.
If Jesus is truly God, if he is truly who he claims to be, we should have no trouble with the miracles. This is no more than we would expect from God. It is not a mystery that God could be born of a virgin, the real mystery is that God would even consider becoming like his creation, surrendering himself and subjecting himself to pain, temptation, the demands of physical appetites, the pressure of desire, and the humiliation of death. If there is any place where faith is strained, it is here. Legends like the one from Japan try to explain this mystery away. We would expect God to be able to do miracles: calm storms, heal the sick and raise the dead. But to come and appear to be less than he really was, to actually suffer, and experience death is totally unlike what we would expect of a God who lives above time and space and is clothed in the garments of eternal glory. We might well expect him to destroy us or make us suffer, but to come and let us make him suffer and die by our hands seems too base, too degrading, too weak, too far beneath Him — too unlike what an all-powerful God would do.
But he did, and that is why I believe there was a man in history named Pontius Pilate. I believe that my Lord suffered, and that his suffering was brought on by the sentence of a black-hearted coward named Pilate. I believe that he knew that Christ was innocent, but lacked the courage to stand against the political pressures brought on by those who hated Jesus Christ. I believe in Pontius Pilate. He serves to remind me that God, in the flesh, felt pain and suffering as the Roman soldiers, at Pilate’s command, tore his flesh with whips, punctured his body with nails, put him through the torture of the cross and hung him in open shame. The King of Glory... bleeding, shamed and waiting in agony for the moment of death. I tell you, it is beyond the capacity of my mind to understand, but I believe in Pontius Pilate. I believe that this man in history, created by my Lord, was allowed by my Lord to subject him to a torture that, by the mercy of God, we will never know.
But one thing I do know: Jesus, in those hours, was not less God than he was before. In my mind he was more God then than at any other time. I am not surprised by his miracles, but I am stunned at his suffering. His divine capacities were not reduced while he was here with us, but incomprehensibly restrained. But why the restraint? Why the birth into a world that did not care? Why did he suffer and die when he did not have to do it? When he was above being tempted, why did he put himself in the place where he would be susceptible to temptation? The Bible holds the key. In Hebrews the second chapter it says, “For this reason he had to be made like his brothers in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted” (Hebrews 2:17,18).
Never again would his creation be able to say, “God, you do not understand! You don’t know how difficult it is to live in the world. You don’t know what it is like to have an illness, have your passions drive you, or be pressured by the crowd. You don’t know what it is like to suffer like I have suffered. You don’t know what it is to be afraid to die.” At the sight of Jesus on the cross, all our excuses and accusations vanish into thin air. Because he is perfect he did not need the experience to understand me, but I needed to know, in no uncertain terms, that he knew what it was like to live here. I needed to know that he did not protect himself from pain, as he so easily could have done. I want proof that God understands and knows what I feel, and Jesus Christ is that proof. Tiring days and lonely nights were a part of his life. The pain of nails and the pain of rejection — He felt it all.
The Bible says, “Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are — yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need” (Hebrews 4:14-16). Knowing Jesus Christ surrendered himself to this and has experienced the worst of life gives us great confidence that we will be heard, will be understood, will be forgiven and will be loved.
He became what I am that I might become like Him. If he had not come to me I could never have gone to Him. In our Scripture reading this morning we heard Jesus say to the men walking the Emmaus Road: “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Christ have to suffer these things...?” (Luke 24:25,26). It was necessary in order to fulfill the message of the prophets, but most of all it was necessary for me. Otherwise, I would never be sure that God understood, I would never know that he really cared. I would not understand that he felt what I feel and was able to feel compassion for me, have understanding for my weaknesses, and grant forgiveness for my sins. Jesus is that part of God that can never forget what it is like to be human.
Why would he do it? The only possible explanation is his compelling love. Driven by that love he came, reaching for those his hands had made. Hear the words of St. Paul as he puts is so majestically: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9).
That is why I love him today. He did not stay in a blue, ethereal heaven, but came to live in my world that I would know he understood and cared. When I am in pain I know that he too has suffered, and much more than I. When I am tempted I know his Word tells me he was tempted also. When I face death I can do it fearlessly, knowing that he experienced death too. I love him because he did not run from suffering. He did not avoid the cross. When his time was near he prayed, “Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour” (John 12:27). And so I can say with Paul: “The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). Because he gave himself for me, I want to give myself for Him.
But there is one last thing we must remember here. The suffering of Jesus Christ was not just that he might be able to empathize with us, but that he might save us. This is the third thing reason that he became fully human: Jesus Christ gave himself to save us. E. Stanley Jones says that in all the other world religions we have the word becoming word. That is, they communicate ideas, philosophies and religious ideas. But in Christianity we have the word becoming flesh. The Bible says, “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). Only in Christianity do we find a God who lives in unapproachable light and glory coming to the earth as a person. He did not come just to bring ideas, he came to give us himself.
The Bible says, “He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all” (Isaiah 53:3-6). Here is the mystery of God’s plan of salvation. We caused his suffering, not just Pilate. The Jews did not kill Jesus Christ — we did. Our sins sent him to the cross. But he did not go reluctantly, or with bitterness; he went willingly, lovingly, for it was necessary in his plan to save us.
The Bible says, “But we see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, now crowned with glory and honor because he suffered death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone. In bringing many sons to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the author of their salvation perfect through suffering” (Hebrews 2:9,10).
Isaac Watts’ great hymn says it so well:
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an offering far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
Rodney J. Buchanan
May 20, 2012
Amity UMC
rodbuchanan2000@yahoo.com
