Eight times each year we read of the crucifixion of our Master. Can this story lose its impact for us? The accounts invite our imaginations to start exploring… We ponder how these people who had heard his gracious words, witnessed many remarkable miracles, acknowledged that “never man spake like this man” — how they could have been persuaded to cry, “Crucify Him!” Perhaps most of them had not, but nevertheless they had stood dumb, uncertain, as the envious leaders stirred up the mob leaders to cry, “Not this man, but Barabbas!” But it had to be, and the Almighty, in His foreknowledge, caused the “right people” to be in the “right place” at the “right time.” Mass emotion can be a frightening thing — as the world keeps witnessing.
We can look at these events intellectually, focusing our minds on why it had to happen and what the event accomplished. We can see that Christ’s death, as the climax of the offerings under the Law, had to take the form of a sacrifice. We can also see that the mortality of the Messiah, who was one with us, had to be demonstrated while the clash of wills — his and his Father’s — took place. His obedience to the end completed a sinless mortal life. But are these factors the essential heart of the message of the Cross?
The appreciation of these factors came later. The conversions and conversations recorded in the opening chapters of Acts strongly suggest that the natural emotions that led to the cross were then counterbalanced by heart-felt spiritual emotions. These emotions were manifest in those whom the Lord was drawing to himself, so as to become the first fruits of the ingathering into Christ.
Purging the conscience
This point is wonderfully apparent in the Letter to the Hebrews. In the ninth chapter, after describing the appointments in the tabernacle and the duties of the high priest and what they symbolized, the writer draws a pointed contrast between the offering of Christ and the offering of animals (vv. 1-13). This leads to the writer’s conclusion: that the offering of Christ was to “purge (or cleanse) your conscience from dead works to serve the living God” (v. 14). He makes the same point in the next chapter where, after stating that we can enter the spiritual holy of holies, he tells us what that will accomplish! “Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience” (v. 22).
The record in Acts explains how this happened. For the Jews, the collective and individual memories of the crucifixion itself provoked a supreme and overwhelming emotional reaction. Just as baptism (and what it symbolizes) is the “answer of a good conscience” (1 Pet. 3:21), so a contemplation of the sacrifice of Christ must act upon the emotions as well as the intellect. Indeed, the former should be the greatest! All too often we are afraid of emotions, but we push them to the back of our thinking at our peril. The cross cannot be appreciated purely in the dimension of intellectual understanding; in fact, this ought to be a secondary factor, following on after the emotions have been engaged.
Consider the text of Acts. The speech of Peter on the day of Pentecost was intensely personal. Look at how many times “you” and “ye” occur. Jesus was “a man attested by God to you, by miracles, wonders and signs which God did through Him in your midst, as you yourselves also know... you have taken by lawless hands…” (2:22,23). Peter culminates his speech in v. 36: “God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.” The result was that “they were cut to the heart.” This is what Peter, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, intended — this challenge to their emotions, their consciences. He had gone through the same traumas of mind for the three heart-wrenching days of soul-bitterness after he denied he ever knew his Lord.
“First… repent!”
Notice the response of Peter when they cried, “Men and brethren, what shall we do?” He does not respond by saying first, “Be baptized” — but by crying, “Repent!” Meditate on the absolute dimension of repentance they felt, those who had been “cut to the heart” on that day of Pentecost. The overflow of joy and commitment that was experienced in the early weeks and months of the first ecclesia surely gave evidence of the full degree of their repentance. We read, “All who believed were together and had all things in common, and sold their possessions and goods and divided them among all, as anyone had need. And so [they continued] daily in the temple… with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God…” (Acts 2:44-47).
Turning away from iniquities
Likewise in Acts 3. Peter concludes a straight-from-the-shoulder message about the reality of the death and resurrection of their Messiah by saying, “Repent therefore and be converted that your sins may be blotted out” (v. 19). He then declares, “To you first, God having raised up His Servant Jesus, sent him to bless you, in turning away every one of you from your iniquities” (v. 26). So the purpose of the crucifixion was much more than to create a meaning for their baptism. It not only afforded them the blotting out of their sins, but also and especially provided them the impetus to “turn away” from their former fleshly ways of thinking. The purging of conscience was intended to be permanent.
Is this point too simple and obvious? Do our minds tend to pass over it? Perhaps. We so like to move on, into the meaning and symbolism of our Master’s atoning sacrifice. But is there a point we are missing here? The relevant Scripture texts in Romans, Hebrews, and other letters were written to believers so that they could understand the meaning of all the ways of God more perfectly. They were not written to potential converts for them to digest fully before they were ready for baptism.
When Peter was sent to preach to Cornelius, the Holy Spirit fell on the hearers to the astonishment of Peter — this caused him to baptize them. Notice that the last point Peter was making before the Spirit was manifested, was, “To him all the prophets witness that, through his name, whoever believes in him will receive remission of sins” (10:43).
Paul’s discourse at Antioch in Pisidia includes strong emotional appeals. Notice how it concludes (Acts 13:37-41). After stressing the resurrection of Christ, that he saw no corruption, Paul says, “Therefore let it be known to you brethren, that through this man is preached unto you forgiveness of sins; and by him everyone is justified from all things from which you could not be justified by the Law of Moses.” First and foremost, Paul’s appeal was an appeal for an emotional appreciation to realize how they could become right (justified) before God. Paul’s quote from Habakkuk (Hab. 1:5; Acts 13:41) is obviously appropriate in challenging the emotional rejection of those who despised Paul’s message.
Trembling!
Paul’s tactics with Felix fit into this pattern. As Paul “reasoned about righteousness, self-control and the judgment to come, Felix was afraid (AV, he trembled)” (Acts 24:25). We would like to know more of Paul’s reasoning, but undoubtedly it targeted the emotions of Felix, challenging him to put himself in “the right” before God! He was not capable of facing that challenge! How many of us are? We are not challenged openly or audibly, but we are challenged in our thought processes and meditations! How easy to turn an inner deaf ear to that challenge.
Every time we sit and wait for the emblems to be passed to us, we need to meditate on the nature of the emotions the sacrifice of our Master arouses in us. And having meditated and partaken of the emblems, we remember that Paul wrote, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (1 Cor. 11:26). This proclaiming, or shewing forth, is an acknowledging to ourselves and our fellow brethren and sisters that we are remembering. But what are we remembering? The subsequent actions and attitude of the first Christians in Jerusalem demonstrated what they remembered.
Will our actions and attitudes, after we leave this place, demonstrate what we remember?
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One