Introduction
It
is a great honour for me to be invited share with you today on the theme of God’s Glory, Our Delight. What a great title.
Ever
since the mid-1990s, when I read a book by the Baptist pastor and writer John
Piper called Desiring God, I have been convinced that these two things –
the awe-inspiring glory of God and the overflowing delight of his people are like
the earth and the moon; though thoroughly distinct, they influence and relate
to each other.
Piper’s
big thought in that book was that God is most glorified in us when we are most
satisfied in him.
God
is not glorified when we are disappointed and unhappy in him. Nobody is
attracted to our God by gloomy and cheerless Christians grumbling and complaining
about their lot.
But
when Christian hearts are set on fire with love for God, when we marvel at the
wonders of grace, when we abound with inexpressible joy, people see how great
God is and it magnifies him as supremely valuable. His glory really is our
delight.
Before
I get into what I want to share with you, I think it is worth stopping briefly to
ponder the question, “what is glory”?
How
do you think you might define “glory” in your own words?
In
my country, the United Kingdom, we often use that word in sports headlines. For
example, England seek World Cup glory. “Glory” in this sense means
winning a football (or soccer) tournament.
But
every Englishman knows that the players representing their country will return
home soon after the quarter finals via a disastrous and humiliating penalty
shoot-out. That glory is illusive.
Or
the word “glory” can mean “the original condition of an object.” For example,
“the old steam train has now been restored to its former glory.” This just
means an old heap of rust is now all shiny again. But everyone knows it will once
again degrade and wear out over time. That glory is momentary.
We
also use the word in nature. I sometimes hear the expression “the glory of the English
countryside…” And yes, it is pretty, but those who live here know well that for
much of the year you have to experience it battling to stay warm to the sound
of relentless rain lashing down on your overworked umbrella. That glory is diluted
– literally.
I
would say that everywhere we use the word “glory” we devalue it except when
we talk about God.
So
when the Bible speaks of “the glory of God in the face of Christ” it’s much more
than elite sports, or renovated machines or pretty hills and dales and lakes.
The
Glory of God in the Face of Christ
Every
now and then, our planet spins through a zone in space with a high
concentration of small rocks called meteors. Astronomers know that the next time
this will be observable in the Northern Hemisphere is August 12-13; it’s called
the Perseid meteor shower.
When
you look up at the sky at night and see meteors burning up at tremendous speed in
the upper atmosphere it’s briefly quite entertaining. A fraction of a second…
and it’s gone.
That’s
what the glory of the very greatest men and women who have ever lived are like;
a shooting star. All too brief, all too dim.
Let
me give you an example.
In the Louvre Museum in Paris there is a painting by Charles Le Brun called Alexander Entering Babylon (see below). It depicts the Greek warrior Alexander the Great riding into this newly conquered great city to a hero’s welcome. He stands, majestic, in a chariot of ivory and gold, pulled by two elephants captured from Babylon’s army. Alexander, crowned with laurel leaves, points authoritatively with his left hand, and holds a golden sceptre in his right.
Trumpeters go ahead of him announcing his arrival. Beside him, three men carry a large golden vase, the spoils of war. Everything about this painting exalts this man as impressive, magnificent and glorious.
Alexander is known as
"the Great" because of his supreme success as a military commander.
He never lost a single battle, even though his armies were typically
outnumbered. Military academies throughout the world still teach his military
tactics today.
It is said that
Alexander would send heralds into conquered cities before him proclaiming, “I,
Alexander, have conquered the world. Now I will conquer the stars.” Legend says
that he wept on entering India at age 29, realising he had no more worlds to
conquer.
But he died at the age
of 32, almost certainly of malaria. All that human glory and majesty taken down
in just a few days by a humble mosquito…
Even
the genuine greats of human history, even the most admirable of men and women
who have ever lived, even cultural icons who have left their mark, even the
great and the good buried in national shrines, are only briefly remarkable but gone in a flash and ultimately insignificant. No more than shooting stars.
By
comparison, the sheer greatness and grandeur of the glory of God in Christ is
like… the sun. 870,000 miles in diameter, it rages at 15 million degrees
Celsius at the centre, and ejects plasma (extremely hot charged particles) at a
speed of 280 miles per second.
You
have to be warned to not look at it directly. And just as the sun’s light can
blind you, so God’s glory is brilliant beyond our capacity to bear it.
“No
one may see my face and live”, says God in Exodus 33. For generation after
generation, and into all eternity, the intense radiance of God’s glory never fades,
never dims, never weakens.
In
2 Corinthians 4.6 the Apostle Paul talks about, “God’s glory displayed in the face of
Christ.”
It’s
in Jesus that the glory of God comes into most vivid focus.
Towards
the end of Jesus’ public ministry, Matthew, Mark and Luke all record an
awesomely stunning event. Even by the exalted and breathtaking standards of the
works of power Jesus did in the gospels this is an encounter from another
realm.
Here’s
what happens: Jesus takes three key leaders Peter, James and John up a
mountain. As they go up, my guess is that they’re thinking, “This is going to
be cool. Can’t wait to get a view from up there. We’ll see for miles and miles.
We’ll take in a great panorama of pretty much the whole of northern Israel.”
But
what happens up there blows their minds. Jesus becomes transfigured before
their eyes. One moment they’re looking at him, just like you’re looking at your
computer screen, and the next moment the appearance of his face changes, and
his clothes become overpoweringly bright. It must have been spectacular to
behold.
Jesus’
whole appearance changes before their eyes. He looks as if he is ablaze; his
clothes are like lightning.
And
this near-blinding light shines not on Jesus but through him. It
says the light is dazzling white. You can’t make anything brighter. It is
overwhelmingly intense. It is strange and otherworldly. It is stunningly impressive.
Then
Moses and Elijah, two signs-and-wonders prophets, appear. They all enter a
cloud of the glory of God. There is an audible voice from heaven.
And
then it all comes to an end and they find Jesus alone, his appearance just as
it had been before. Whoa…!
You’d
think something like that would make a lasting impression on those who were
there - and it did. Two of them, Peter and John, wrote about it decades later.
Some
30 years after the event, Peter (in 2 Peter 1) describes in vivid detail what he
saw. “We were eye-witnesses of his majesty” he says. “He received honour and
glory from God the Father when the voice came to him from the Majestic Glory,
saying, ‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased’.”
Then
John, about 50 years after the event, is still talking about it in the opening
chapter of his Gospel: “The true light that gives light to everyone [came] into
the world” he says. “We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son,
who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”
We
were eyewitnesses. We were there. We saw it with our own eyes.
God’s
Glory in John’s Gospel
Towards
the end of last year, I was reading through John’s Gospel, taking it very
slowly, soaking it in, reading it deeply and I was really struck by the words “glory”
and “glorify” in this Gospel.
It’s
there in the verse I quoted just now from chapter 1. “We have seen his glory,
the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and
truth.”
At
the wedding in chapter 2, where Jesus performs his first miracle, turning water
into wine, John says, “What Jesus did here in Cana of Galilee was the first of
the signs through which he revealed his glory; and his disciples
believed in him.”
In
fact, the words “glory” or “glorify” occur 27 times in John’s Gospel, more than
in any other New Testament book, and more than the other three Gospels and Acts
put together, so this is a very significant theme for John.
As
you read through John’s Gospel, it becomes clearer and clearer that the focus
of God’s glory, revealed in Christ, is not the miracles, not even the raising
of Lazarus, as they hardly mention glory at all.
It’s
not the transfiguration either. John doesn’t even include a description of it in his Gospel.
The
focus of Christ’s glory in John’s Gospel is supremely in his passion and death.
That’s where you see God’s glory at its brightest and most manifest.
In
John chapter 12, during Jesus’ last major public address, less than a week
before he dies, Jesus says, “The hour has [now] come for the Son of Man to be glorified.”
In
the following chapter, at the last supper, Judas leaves the room to betray him
for a bag of coins and hand him over to his enemies. In the very next verse it
says this: “When [Judas] was gone, Jesus said, ‘Now the Son of Man is glorified
and God is glorified in him.’”
Closely
connected with the theme of glory in John’s Gospel is the phrase “lifted up”, meaning
“exalted” or “sovereign.”
About
750 years before Christ, the prophet Isaiah briefly saw the glory of God, and
the manifestation of his holiness. The experience nearly killed him. The
foundations of the place he was in shook at the sound of the angel voices, the
room was filled with smoke and Isaiah cried out in terror; “That’s it! I have
looked God in the face! I’m finished!”
Isaiah
says, “I saw the Lord high and lifted up [there’s that phrase again] seated
on a throne” and he heard these words, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the
whole earth is full of his glory.
When
you see the Lord high and lifted up, if you’re not prepared for it, it is a
fearsome thing and you feel the almost unbearable weight of his glory.
In
John’s Gospel, Jesus talks about being “lifted up” four times and each time it’s
a play on words. He certainly means exalted and magnified and glorified as in Isaiah 6. But
he also means being literally lifted up on a cross.
“The Son of Man must be lifted up” he says. “And when I am lifted up from the
earth,” he says, “I will draw all people to myself.”
What
is it about the passion of the Christ that makes it the source of our delight, of
our joy?
Never
forget that Jesus’ death was a brutally violent judicial murder. If you had
been there to see it, it would traumatise you. It was beyond appalling. You would witness
distressing and horrifying, unforgettable scenes that would haunt you for
years.
Let’s
begin with his agonies in the Garden of Gethsemane. The Gospels tell us that
Jesus was greatly disturbed and distressed. He said, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the
point of death.” Knowing what was to come, he begged his Father in prayer to
take the cup of his wrath away from his lips.
A
few years ago, I came across a diary entry by a Christian from Texas called Tim
White, whose young son experienced great suffering in his early years. This is
what it said:
“In
the first 15 years of his life, our son Ryan had over 30 surgeries. When he was
about eight years old, he was in the hospital for another surgery. The medical
staff had already given him the ‘barney juice’ a purple liquid with something
like morphine in it.
“The
medical staff began to roll his surgical bed to the operating room. As usual,
we accompanied him to the two big doors that led to the place of surgery. That
is where we stopped, and told him all would be OK for the last time before
surgery.
“This
day, as we got to the doors and they opened, he sat up in the bed, looked at me
in the eyes and pleaded, ‘Dad, don’t let them take me!’
At
that moment my heart was broken. I would have done anything to take him off
that bed except for the fact that he had to have the surgery. That knowledge
didn’t ease the pain in my heart at all. I just stood trembling as the doors
closed, and he disappeared. That is when I broke down in tears.
“Shortly
after, when I was asking God how such a good love could hurt so much, I
realised that he had gone through the same thing. In the Garden of Gethsemane
Jesus prayed: ‘Father, if there is any other way, let this cup pass from me.’
Translated into the language of a child, ‘Daddy, don’t let them take me.’
“I
allowed the surgeons to take my son for his own good. God allowed the
crucifiers to take his Son for our good. That is how much God loves us. It has
been said that something is worth what someone else is willing to pay. Christ’s
willingness to give his life shows the value he placed on me.”
The
story of the passion goes on. People may well ask what is there to delight in
about this:
- A
good man is betrayed by a friend
- He
is deserted by all his followers
- One,
whose life he had once saved from drowning, denies three times ever knowing him
- His
trial is a scandalous denial of justice
- An
angry mob bays for his blood
- He
is mocked and parodied, spat at and beaten up
- His
execution is slow, exhausting and unbearably painful
- He
calls out in anguish that everybody has left him
Such
suffering. Such distress. We had to invent a new word to describe the pain Jesus
endured: From two Latin words: ex meaning “out of” and cruciatus meaning “the
cross.” Jesus’ sufferings were excruciating.
The
British church leader and pioneer Terry Virgo in his book, No Well-Worn
Paths speaks about his visit to China where he met a believer called Allen
Yuan. Yuan had been imprisoned by the Communists because of his faith in
Christ.
He
was 44 years old when he was locked up. His wife had to raise their six
children (aged from six to seventeen) all alone without him and also care for
an elderly mother.
People
constantly urged his wife to remarry, saying he must have been killed by now.
She had several marriage proposals. But she refused each time, saying she would
never remarry unless she had concrete proof her husband was dead.
Yuan
was in jail for 21 years and throughout that whole time he never once saw his
family, or had news if them, or they of him. In that time, he had no Christian
fellowship, or even saw a Bible. Conditions were very harsh in prison. At
times, the temperature dropped to -29°C (minus 20 Fahrenheit) but miraculously he
never once got ill.
He
missed his wife terribly. Life was hard for her too obviously. He missed his
children growing up to adulthood. They both suffered terribly. When Yuan was
finally released, he was by then in his mid-sixties.
But
whenever people would speak to him about the high price he had paid for
following Jesus, this dear, humble man would smile, beaming with joy and simply
say, “Nothing compared to the cross.”
With
the other three Gospels, John faithfully records Jesus’ arrest and trial in the
night between Maundy Thursday and Good Friday.
By
the standards of any decent legal system, Jesus’ trial was a complete sham. It
was rotten. It was rigged. It was actually engineered to deliver the desired miscarriage
of justice.
There
are twelve different reasons why Jesus’ case should have been thrown out, and
I’m not talking about the standards of modern Human Rights conventions. Even
according to the first century Jewish legal system, Jesus’ trial should have been thrown out as null, void
and invalid.
Here
they are, 12 reasons why Jesus’ trial was unlawful…
1.
All four Gospels are clear that Jesus was arrested without a single charge
being made against him. Illegal.
2.
The arrest was set up by his judges, the chief priests, who thus became the
counsel for the prosecution. Illegal. They should have been relieved of their
duties for conflict of interest.
3.
The trial took place on private property, in the high priest’s home, not in the
public law court. Illegal.
4.
The trial had to held in daylight hours but it took place at night. Illegal.
5.
The trial began without the accused formally being accused or charged of any offence. Illegal.
6.
The prosecution witnesses brought no consistent evidence, so the case should
have been dismissed.
7.
Those whose statements disagreed were not charged with perverting the course of
justice as they should have been for giving false evidence in court.
8.
Jesus was not released without charge when his accusers were shown to be
unreliable witnesses.
9.
The judge failed to call a single testimony for the defence, only for the
prosecution, thus failing in his duty of impartiality.
10.
The judge made no cross-examination of Jesus' claim to be the Messiah, pointedly ignoring it.
11.
Jesus was physically attacked and harmed while in custody, thus punished before
a verdict was pronounced.
12.
The sentence of execution was rushed through on the same morning, allowing no opportunity
for a legal appeal.
No
accusation stuck. Testimonies against him didn’t agree. No two witnesses were
consistent. Not a shred of evidence for any crime was produced. Nothing remotely incriminating was uncovered in cross-examination.
Pilate
would have been delighted to have been able to find Jesus guilty of something -
anything; it would have kept the rabble quiet. He would have passed sentence and been done with it. But the closer Pilate examined the case, the more
persuaded he became that Jesus was being framed.
Never
was a defendant so manifestly innocent. And never was the outcome of a court
case so cruelly inevitable. The most beautiful life ever lived – it was so
unfair!
Do
you ever feel the world has treated you unfairly? Remember that Jesus was
tested in every way as we are, yet was without sin. He didn’t retaliate, he didn’t
lash out, he didn’t even insist on his rights. He certainly didn’t become
hateful and bitter.
But
his glory is our delight. Because when we place our faith in Jesus his total innocence is given to us in place of our legal guilt which is taken away.
When
God looks at you and me on the Day of Judgement, when all the books are opened;
when the full catalogue of every wrong thing you and I have ever thought, and
said, and done is opened up before us, the pages will all be blank.
Whenever
Satan says, “Just look at your sin!” God says, “No, just look at my Son!” Christ’s impeccable
moral blamelessness is all yours, all mine, through faith. That’s why his glory
is our delight.
On
30 August 1991 in the Shinjuku stadium in Tokyo, Japan, an American athlete
named Mike Powell pulled off a sporting achievement that no one had managed for
33 years. And, almost 30 years on, no one has matched it since. I wonder if you
know what it was? Any guesses?
If
you said “he broke the world record for the men’s long jump” you are right. The
distance he jumped was 8.95 metres (that’s 29 feet, 4¼ inches). Measure that
out after this podcast and marvel at the length of that jump.
That’s
without the hop and the skip. That’s a different event. This is just the jump!
Now,
how achievable would it be for anyone watching or listening to this today to break
that record? Would anyone like to have a go? Do I have any takers? I don’t
think I do.
The
gap between the point where Powell set off and the point just beyond where he
landed is just completely unbridgeable, even (so far) for the very best elite
athletes on earth. No one in human history has ever jumped further.
If
we were to pick the fittest, most athletic, person watching or listening to
this (I know you’re probably thinking “that must be me!”) and if we were to
give that person intense training and put them on a special diet and design a
super streamlined kit and engineer some new high-tech shoes, we still know that
they would never, ever be airborne that long and jump that distance.
It’s
just not possible. So let me ask you a question. How far do you think the
distance is between what you know secretly about your heart and the intense and
glorious brightness of God’s infinite moral perfections?
How
far do you think it is between your sinfulness and God’s righteousness? And
what could you ever do to close the gap?
Our
delight is in the fact that, at the cross, Jesus decisively and permanently closed that gap,
though we never could. It’s as if he jumped it in our place and then handed us
the gold medal.
There
are over 40 verses in the New Testament that specifically state that Jesus’
death was “for us”, “in the place of us”, “as a substitute for us”.
Time
is short, so here are just seven of them:
- This
is my body, this is my blood given for you (Luke 22.20)
- While
we were yet sinners Christ died for us (Romans 5.8)
- God
made him who had no sin to become sin for us (2 Corinthians 5.21)
- Christ
became a curse for us (Galatians 3.13)
- Christ
who loved us and gave himself up for us (Ephesians 5.2)
- By
the grace of God he might taste death for us (Hebrews 2.9)
- Christ
suffered for us (1 Peter 3.18)
All
that is ours as a free gift, if we trust in Jesus Christ. It’s for everyone, no
exceptions, everyone who comes to him and asks.
As
the great 19th Century Baptist preacher C. H. Spurgeon once put it,
“Among the lost souls of hell, there is not one who can say, ‘I went to Jesus
and he refused me.’”
In
British sign language the name ‘Jesus’ is represented by pointing to both
hands. I wonder if those who devised the sign were thinking of the hands that
were always open to bless?
Did
they have in mind the hands that touched lepers and outcasts, the hands that
grabbed a sinking Peter from certain drowning, the hands that healed the blind
and crippled, the hands that lifted a lifeless teenage girl from her deathbed?
I
think we’re getting closer if we think of the hands that broke bread and said
to remember his sufferings. But most likely of all, it references the hands
that were pierced for our transgressions.
Ending
To
end, I was listening to a podcast on the lordship of
Christ recently and the speaker (Simon Ponsonby) was listing the great empires of world history.
The ottoman empire
lasted 700 years. The Roman empire stood for 500 years. The first Ming dynasty
in China endured 280 years.
The British Empire, on
which the sun never set because it spanned every time zone, lasted 250 years. The Soviet Union with its satellite
states in eastern Europe survived barely 70 years.
Hitler promised a
thousand-year Reich only to “crumble in infamy” as the speaker said after
just 12 years.
But, leaving aside the
shooting star glories of nations and empires for one moment, I leave you with this thought to
savour for your joy and delight:
Christ’s kingdom, when
he returns in glory to judge the living and the dead, will endure eternally. He
will reign forever more. His dominion is from everlasting to everlasting. Of
the increase of his government and peace there will be no end.
His
Glory – Our Delight.
Talk for Gospel Spice, 18 February 2021
