As we remember the death of our Lord and Saviour, we shouldn’t find it tiring to return again to the glorious fundamentals of our faith. Reconsidering the great Christian doctrine of salvation we can still ask: from what did we need to be saved? To properly answer that question could take several pages, if not books. My intention this Good Friday isn’t so much to answer that question as it is to point out one of the often-overlooked yet essential aspects of what we need to be saved from.
There is an often-overlooked but essential aspect of what we need to be saved from.
Across the Christian divide, there is a fair grasp of Christ’s three offices. He is the Prophet (John 6:14), Priest (Hebrews 4:14-16), and King (John 18:36-37). These three offices, Christians believe, represent what Jesus needed to be in order to save us. Each points to at least one thing we need to be saved from. Yet, when you ask a typical believer “What has Christ saved you from?”, they will most often say, “he saved me from my sins,” with many adding devils or evil spirits. Although one can debate the theological precision of many people’s understanding of the person and work of Jesus, most have a basic grasp of what Christ achieved as the Priest and King. What is less clear, however, is the prophetic dimension of his ministry, especially on the cross.
This brings us to the questions of this article. What has Christ achieved on the cross as the Prophet? Let’s approach this Easter by meditating on the cross as Christ’s ultimate prophetic ministry.
Tried as a False Prophet
Before anything else, we need to ask, why was Christ tried? Throughout his ministry, Jesus didn’t think of himself only as the ultimate son of David (Matthew 1:1; 22:45); or as the ultimate minister in the temple (Matthew 21:12-17). Jesus also understood himself as coming in the long line of the prophets.
Our problem isn’t only that we’ve sinned against God. It’s also that we don’t know God.
On a number of occasions he compared his mission to Jonah’s (Matthew 12:39; 16:4). He referred to himself as the ultimate prophet, promised by Moses (John 5:45-47; 6:14). Furthermore, Christ was tried as a false prophet. It was on account of this supposed blasphemy that Jesus was judged by the council (Matthew 26:63:68). Being a prophet of the living God cost Jesus his very life. He never denied his prophetic ministry. “For this purpose, I was born,” he told Pilate. “And for this purpose I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth” (John 18:37). Jesus was also tried as a sham priest and pretend king. In short, he was tried as the ultimate imposter. What we mustn’t miss, however, is that his prophetic office is no less central to his trial. In the final analysis, wasn’t he arrested for the things he said?
But why does this matter? Why do we even need Jesus as a prophet? Did Jesus need to be a prophet to save us? These are important questions. They strike at the very heart of our salvation. Our problem isn’t only that we have sinned against God; it’s even more than our continued sin against God. Our problem is also that we don’t know God. God must save us from our ignorance. We need Jesus the Priest to atone for our sins. We need him as our King to conquer our enemies. But we also need him as our Prophet, to show us the Father (John 14:8). We make idols, in part, because we’re blind. We’re ignorant.
A Word About God’s Love and Justice
Careful readers of the Old Testament won’t fail to notice a troubling problem. We find this problem most clearly in Exodus 34:5-7. “The Lord descended in the cloud and stood with him there, and proclaimed the name of the Lord. The Lord passed before him and proclaimed, “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children’s children, to the third and the fourth generation.”
How can this be? How is it possible for God to be merciful, keeping steadfast love for thousands, without forgetting guilt? The essence of this problem: How can God be simultaneously “holy and just” as well as “merciful and loving”? The demands of holiness and justice seem to rule out the possibility of mercy. Wouldn’t acquitting the guilty amount to a poor administration of justice. On the other hand, if he executes justice he cannot claim to have been merciful. But that is precisely what God says he does. It’s who he says he is.
We’re finally able to see how God is both just and loving.
Old Testament saints couldn’t answer this dilemma. In effect, they trusted God without knowing exactly how he is both just and merciful. This mysterious tension in the very being of God was held in suspense, until the Son of God was lifted up on that rugged cross. That accursed tree. Suddenly, God makes sense. Or I should say: now we’re finally able to see how God is both just and loving. On the cross, the world is afforded a moment to gaze into the mind of God. At the cross the logic of his wisdom is explained and the dramatic intrigue of his being is resolved.
It was only when Paul was able to look on that cross that he was able to see how God could be just and the justifier of those who have faith in Christ (Romans 3:26). It is only because the sinless Son of God died by substituting himself for us, taking on himself the penalty of our sins, that we can make sense of God. Apart from the cross, we simply can’t.
The Cross Speaks to Sufferers
The problem of evil and suffering is arguably the most powerful testimony against the existence of the God. Indeed, if God is good and powerful as the Bible claims, why then is there so much pain and suffering? Attempts to answer this question apart from the cross either reduce God to an idol or they minimise the reality of suffering. But the cross maintains that God is God and suffering is real. And although it does not obviously explain the reason for suffering, it offers something more comforting than any intellectual sophistication might. The cross tells us that ultimate good came (salvation) out of ultimate evil (cross). Because of this, we can believe that good will come out of evil, even when it isn’t obvious how that will happen. Rather, we continue to trust in God’s sovereign wisdom in light of our great salvation.
The stunning mystery is that a powerful God experienced evil.
But, perhaps more importantly, the cross demonstrates that God cares. If God is all-powerful and all-good and could stop evil, why did he suffer? One of the hardest things to believe isn’t that God doesn’t stop evil but that he was willing to experience it himself. He enters into suffering. The greatest mystery is then not that there is evil in a world governed by a good God. No. The stunning mystery is that a powerful God experienced evil. He suffered, though sovereign. Therefore the cross shouts to a weary world, beaten and bruised: God can be trusted. God did not stay immune to our pain. He didn’t observe it from afar. At the cross we know that God not only suffered for us, but that he suffers with us. That is our comfort, our hope, our joy, and the reason behind our Easter.
To know God is essential to what it means to be saved in the Christian faith. Jesus equated eternal life with the knowledge of God and the sent one (John 17:3). As we remember the death of our Lord, has the cross taught you who God is? Do you know God?
