The Blurring of Lines [Matthew 13.24-30] (21 July 2002)

For the associated PowerPoint presentation click here.

Just recently Prayerna began liking the botanical characters in Veggie Tales. I know probably more Veggie Tales’ songs than I care to confess to. However, the lyrics of one song have struck me as quite interesting. Here’s a snippet. “If your friends tell you that you gotta be cool/ Remember what you learned in church and Sunday school/ Just check it out/ The bible tells us what it’s all about.” The implicit assumption is that the bible recommends one kind of behavior and that we happen to know exactly what that kind of behavior is. If we dig further, we could say that there is the assumption not only that there is one kind of behavior, but one set of beliefs.

How comforting! We all like to be assured that issues of life and death are black and white. After all, if the song can claim black and white status for behavior that is trivial for the most part, certainly the bible will tell us in clear cut terms what behaviors and beliefs to adopt for issues of eternal consequences.

So let us see what the bible says about such things. Turn with me to Matthew 13.24-30.

Let us set the parable in context. The Gospel of Matthew contains five long sections of teaching initiated by Jesus. That is, these are teachings given not in response to a query or claim made by someone else. The first is the Sermon on the Mount in chapters five to seven. The second is the so-called mission discourse in chapter 10. The third is the series of parables of the kingdom of God in chapter 13. The fourth is the teaching on church discipline in chapter 18. Finally, in chapters 24 and 25, Jesus teaches about the coming of the Kingdom of God. The parable we are dealing with is in the third of the speeches. The parable is the second in a series of seven parables.

Before going on to the parable, we must consider three things that are essential to the interpretation of parables. First, we must treat each parable on its own terms, without merging it with other parables. For example, in the first parable, humans are compared to various kinds of soils. In our parable, we are different kinds of seed. In the third parable, suddenly, we are birds nesting in a tree!

Second, we need to remember that a parable is not an allegory. An allegory is a story in which each element represents something in real life. For example, John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress is an allegory. In an allegory, the characters are clearly defined. We know, for example, that Evangelist evangelizes. That is all he does. Obstinate refuses to believe anything, while Pliable believes everything. In other words, in an allegory, the characters are one-dimensional.

In a parable, on the other hand, the characters are true to life. C. S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia are examples of parables. One of the children, Susan ends up not believing, while Emeth, an opponent of Aslan, ends up in Aslan’s kingdom. Because of this fluidity, the purpose or meaning of a parable does not lie in identifying one-to-one correspondence between its elements and real life.

This gets us to the third point. The meaning of the parable lies in our identifying with a character in the parable. I know this is a little vague. So let me use our parable as an example.

In the parable, Jesus describes a common scenario in first century peasant life—a family feud. The enemy of the main character tries to subvert his plans by scattering weeds into the field.

This reminds me of chicken rice. Not only is that the name of a Singaporean delicacy, but also the title of a movie that Pauline and Simon had Alice and me watch with them. The story in the movie involves two feuding families, both of which happen to run stalls selling the delectable chicken rice. However, both stalls are in the same food court. This comes to the notice of the authorities, who must decide which stall to close. The movie shows each family trying to insure that the other family’s stall will be closed. One family places rats in the other family’s stall. The second family places roaches in the first family’s stall. And so on.

In the parable, the goal of the enemy is to frustrate the plans of the protagonist. Remember, the meaning of the parable lies in our identifying with a character in the parable. To help us do this, Jesus starts us on our journey of interpretation by making the following allegorical identifications in his explanation in vv. 36-43. 

We, twenty-first century, English speaking, city slickers are separated from Jesus’ audience in three ways—time, language, and geography. We must learn to hear Jesus as his first audience would have heard and understood him.

The good seed Jesus refers to is the wheat seed, which obviously produces wheat. In the first picture, you can see what wheat looks like. The weed that Jesus refers to is known as darnel or rye-grass. The second picture shows what darnel looks like. As you can see, the two are very similar. In fact, it is only when the wheat grains mature and dry on the stalks that darnel can be differentiated from wheat.

In addition, the roots of darnel are wiry and become entangled with the roots of wheat. The master in the parable rightly observes that the reapers would uproot the wheat if they chose to uproot the darnel.

A third fact about darnel is that its tiny seeds are hallucinogenic before they dry up. In dealing with darnel, one can become intoxicated and begin to imagine all sorts of things.

These three facts about darnel and wheat give us a clue to what Jesus is telling us through the parable. He is telling us two things. First, it is difficult to distinguish those who follow him from those who reject him. Second, the lives of those who follow him are intertwined with the lives of those who reject him. Third, there is a right time and place for divine justice—and it is not now!

Now I have often heard the interpretation that the master restrains the reapers just as God shows patience and waits for unbelievers to believe. This goes completely against what Jesus is saying. After all, darnel remains darnel and wheat remains wheat. No farmer allows weeds to remain in the field because he thinks that they might—just might—overnight become good food!

The master in the parable does not hope that the darnel would become wheat. Rather, he is concerned about the wheat that he planted. He wants the wheat to ripen and dry so he can reap an abundant harvest.

Moreover, the master is not worried about the presence of the darnel among wheat. Rather, he is worried that his reapers are unable to do the important job of distinguishing darnel from wheat. What if they mistake a stalk of wheat for darnel just because the grain has not yet grown on the stalk? What if they think a stalk of darnel is standing alone and uproot it only to find three stalks of wheat also land in the fire? What if, while handling the immature seeds of darnel, the reapers begin hallucinating and think that they need to save the darnel and destroy the wheat?

You see, the master’s main worry is not that his crop has been contaminated and has become impure but that justice might be dealt out swiftly and prematurely. After all, premature justice is justice miscarried.

Throughout church history, the church has been preoccupied with identifying true Christians.

Do we not all still do this? Do we not try to draw all kinds of lines to assure ourselves that we are in and that others are out? We use all kinds of markers to draw a sharp line between those who are saved and those who are not saved. Like the Veggie Tales’ song, we approach the issue of salvation as though it were cut and dry. We assume we know exactly who is in and who is out. Moreover, we even assume to know why?

And we even manage to fool ourselves that we are not disobeying Jesus’ words in Matthew 7.1-2 where he tells us, “Do not condemn.” Let us be honest. To believe a person is not Christian is to believe that that person is going to face God’s judgment. It is as good as saying, “You are headed toward hell!”

What qualifies us to make such a judgment? Do we really know the person as Gods does? Yet, we do it all the time! From the general principle that those who believe in Jesus will be saved we frighten people with the opposite—those who do not believe in Jesus are going to hell.

However, drawing for the parable, what if the person we are frightening is a child of the enemy? Can you envisage a farmer speaking to a stalk of darnel and saying, “You know, all the weeds are going to be burnt. You don’t want that to happen, do you? Why don’t you just become wheat?” On the other hand, what if the person is a child of the kingdom, who has not matured? Can you imagine the farmer speaking to a stalk of wheat and saying, “You know, wheat stalks have wheat grains. You don’t have any grains. You must be a weed. Don’t you know that the weeds are going to be burnt?”

The absurdity of the two situations should give us pause. Jesus has warned us sternly against drawing conclusions about the eternal destiny of people. Yet, we do it all the time and say we are following Jesus. What hypocrites we are!

Moreover, in the parable Jesus says that even the angels are unable to make the distinctions we make without a thought. How prideful we are!

In the parable, Jesus tells us that the lines are not as clear as we think they are—or, at least, wish they are. The lines are blurred. How do we know for sure that I am not a weed that just looks so much like the real thing? And how do we know that Saddam Hussein is wheat that has not yet matured?

But if the lines are blurred, whom do we witness to? And whom do we evangelize? May be we need to redefine what we mean by those terms. If by those terms we mean ways by which we attempt to bring people into the kingdom, our parable warns us against even attempting such a thing. For to attempt to bring someone in is to first assume that the person is out, which, as we have seen, is merely condemnation disguised.

However, these terms did not originally refer to bringing people in. Rather, to witness to Jesus was merely to give testimony about Jesus—testimony that he brought the kingdom of God to this earth, that he healed many, that he raised many, that he taught marvelous things, that he upset the status quo, that the authorities put him to death, that the Father raised him, that he reigns now with the Father, that he has sent his Spirit to continue his mission through his people, that he will come again to consummate his love for us.

Similarly, to evangelize was to announce the good news through deeds and words—the good news that God has brought his kingdom to earth in the person of Jesus.

Simple things these are. There is no pressure in these to bring people in. We are merely telling anecdotes about a very good friend. But these are no inconsequential anecdotes. These are anecdotes around which history turns.

Do you wonder why so few of us ever share the good news about Jesus? I sure did. But as I have thought about it, I have come to the conclusion that we have done it to ourselves. In our attempt to have a pure church, through our desire to know who is in and who is out, with our penchant for drawing sharp lines we have taped our mouths and cut off our hands.

Think. Think of a close friend who does not believe in or follow Jesus. Do you not wish this person shared your faith? But how do you approach him? If you begin to share about Jesus, you know that, at some point, the person is going to ask you why what you share is so important. What do you say? You could say, “If you don’t believe this you’re gonna fry!” Or you could say, “I believe this. And do know how much my life has changed since?”

Which option is easier? For my part, it is easier to talk about how Jesus has changed my life. I can talk about that as easily as I can talk about how Alice, Prayerna, or my parents have changed my life. And when it is that easy, people will realize that it is easy precisely because it is so real.

Moreover, which option is honest to our parable? Since Jesus warns us against premature judgment, I cannot sentence someone.

The key to the parable lies in v. 29 where the master says, “No! For in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them.” Jesus’ point in the parable is that the two kingdoms—the kingdom of God and the counterfeit kingdom of Satan—grow simultaneously. Between the time when Jesus first announced the kingdom of God and the time when he returns to bring the kingdom fully, the true kingdom and the fake kingdom exist side by side. More to the point, it is extremely difficult to differentiate between the two kingdoms. Indeed, according to the parable, it is impossible!

It is sad that, despite what this parable teaches us, through most of church history, the church has been preoccupied with identifying the signs of the true kingdom. Many answers have been suggested. Some describe what a Christian ought to be. For instance, a Christian must live a pure life, which raises the question, “What behavior is off-limits?” Or a Christian must be baptized, which raises the questions, “When?” and “How?” A third approach is that a Christian must believe in Jesus, which raises the question, “Believe what?”

Other answers describe what a true church should be. For instance, a church must teach biblically sound doctrine, which raises the question, “Which denominations are orthodox?” Or a church must administer the sacraments, which raises the question, “What are the sacraments?” Another approach is that a church must be led by the Holy Spirit, which provokes the question, “How does one decide?”

A third set of answers deal with the effects of the kingdom on society. For instance, the kingdom promotes prosperity, which begs the question, “Why then was Jesus a pauper?” Or the kingdom promotes health, which requires the question, “Why then do we still suffer?” Or the kingdom promotes virtue, which begs the question, “Why then are we so devoid of character?”

My point is that all these approaches ignore what Jesus has told us—that the two kingdoms are difficult to separate. More precisely, the kingdom of God exists where we often do not see it, namely outside the church. And the kingdom of Satan exists where we hope to be safe from it, namely in the church. If you doubt this last claim, read the letters to the churches in the last book of the bible.

The news that the two kingdoms are difficult to differentiate must have been hard for the disciples to take in. After all, in first century Palestine, the line between the unrighteous, whom God would condemn, and the righteous, whom God would bless, was very clear. For them, the Romans were the unrighteous and the Jews the righteous. And here Jesus was saying that the line was not that clear. More to the point, he was saying that even attempting to draw the line was ridiculous.

I have driven home the main point of the parable in a number of ways. The line between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of Satan is blurred. We are faced with the crucial question, “Why does Jesus tell this parable?” In other words, “How are we to respond to the parable?”

How we are to respond, of course, depends on the character with which we chose to identify. The only two characters open to us are the wheat and the darnel. The first question Jesus’ audience is faced with is, “Are you wheat or darnel?”

The most common knee-jerk response to the question is, “Of course I am wheat!” There is hardly anyone who would openly claim to be the offspring of Satan! We all function within a worldview and belief system that assures us we are children of God. And it is here that the parable asks us the world shattering question, “How are you so sure?”

Given what we know about how similar wheat and darnel are, we can appreciate the question. How indeed are we so sure? As I have said, every method we develop to determine who is a child of God and who is not merely leads to questions that Christians have answered in a variety of ways. How indeed am I sure that I am a child of God?

The second question Jesus’ audience is faced with is, “Is the person next to you wheat or darnel?” Again, following the logic of the parable any definite answer we give forces us to answer the question, “How are you so sure?”

This parable is masterful in that it asks us the same question without regard to the character with which we chose to identify. And like a good parable, it traps us and ensnares us until it is not we who are interpreting the parable but the parable that is interpreting us.

The parable challenges every boundary drawing bone in us. It questions every inclination we have to make hedges around ourselves. It rebukes every attempt we make to determine who is in God’s kingdom and who is not.

The Scandal of Judah's Lion [The Revelation of Jesus Christ 5.1-14] (18 August 2002)

[For accompanying presentation click here]

Did you see it? Did you see it? We are so accustomed to hearing portions of scripture that we often miss the important points. Or is it that Isaiah’s words are true of us: “Keep listening, but do not comprehend; keep looking, but do not understand”? Is it indeed that our hearts have grown dull because we reject what is revealed to us? Did Isaiah have us in mind when he said, “Who has believed our report? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?”

Let us pray.

The passage you just heard was from The Revelation of Jesus Christ 5.1-14. What you heard was a recording of a dramatic reading of the book on December 31, 1999 at Glendale Presbyterian Church. Alice and I were two of the seven readers. May be you recognized our voices. Whether or not you did, the question remains, “Did you see it?”

The last book of the bible is a book meant to be read aloud. John tells us this in chapter 1 verse 3, “Blessed is the one who reads aloud the words of this prophecy.” The book is meant to be read aloud because through its vivid imagery it aims to reach into our imaginations and enable us to see things that cannot be seen with our physical eyes. It is only the eye of the imagination that can see the unseen.

Throughout the book, John hammers home this point. Even in the passage we heard, he informs us about the key role of the imagination. In v. 11 he writes, “I looked and heard the voice of many angels” How does one look and hear? We would expect to listen and hear. But John looks and hears. Such mixing of metaphors, juxtaposition of language, is characteristic of the book and we will miss what John is trying to tell us if we do not recognize the startling way in which he uses language.

So, did you see it? Perhaps some visual aids might help. What animal is depicted on the screen? And what about the second picture?

That would be our normal response.

However, John is telling us something else. Listen to the scriptures again. [Read vv. 5-6.] Did you see it? John is telling us that the second picture depicts a lion.

You see, when the angel tells John to look at the Lion of the tribe of Judah, in John’s mind, what he is going to look at is the quintessential lion, the lion who has conquered, the lion who is victorious. But when John turns to look, he sees a lamb—A lamb standing as if slaughtered. The Greek word implies a lamb standing with its neck slit.

When the angel tells John to look at the conquering Lion of Judah, we would expect John to describe next a powerful lion, standing with a proud mane, the blood of its victims dripping from its mouth. But no! The conquering lion who is worthy turns out to be not one who has inflicted wounds on others but one on whom mortal wounds were inflicted. The victorious Lion of Judah turns out to be a lamb standing with its neck gashed.

The church has consistently taught that Jesus will return to judge all people. Often the scenarios are gory. Jesus will descend on clouds and ride on to battle with the forces of evil, killing all those who have aligned themselves with Satan. The word “Armageddon” sends chills up people’s spines. Popular Christian literature mints money by scaring readers about the terrible day when Jesus returns as conqueror.

But do we not see how abhorrent this is? Let us do some statistical work. The word “lion” refers to Jesus only in this passage in the entire bible. However, the word “lamb” refers to Jesus once in the Old Testament in Isaiah 53:7, four times in the first twenty-six books of the New Testament, and 28 times in The Revelation of Jesus Christ. It is by far the favorite title for Jesus in the Revelation of Jesus Christ.

You may wonder why I call the last book of the bible “The Revelation of Jesus Christ.” Most bibles may have the title “Revelation,” or “The Revelation,” or “The Revelation of John,” or “The Revelation to John,” etc. I have not found a single bible in which the title is “The Revelation of Jesus Christ.” Yet, that is the title of the book. The first words of the book, which in those days served as the title of the book, are “The Revelation of Jesus Christ.” See in your own bibles the way the actual text of the book begins.

You see, the last book is not only a revelation given by Jesus to John. It is also a revelation about Jesus. That is, Jesus gives John a series of visions to show John what Jesus is really like. And, if our statistics help us, we realize that Jesus is most like a lamb.

The point is not to be missed. Jesus is first revealed to be the lamb right after John is told to turn and look at the Lion of the tribe of Judah. The title Lion of the tribe of Judah, though never used in the Old Testament, served as a messianic title in the first century. The Jews were waiting for the warrior messiah to come and vanquish the Romans. They were waiting for the Lion of the tribe of Judah.

So, when the angel tells John to look at the Lion of the tribe of Judah, all John’s messianic expectations would have been aroused. He was at last going to get a glimpse of the warrior messiah.

But he saw a slain lamb.

What Jesus is telling John—and through John us—is that Jesus’ way of conquering is different not only from the world’s way of conquering. It is also different from the church’s way of conquering.

You see, we Christians are bloodthirsty. Though Jesus himself said, “Those who live by the sword, will die by the sword,” we think that he has made an exception for himself. Though at his arrest he refused to resort to violence, we think that he will come back with weaponry that will make the gizmos of Men in Black or Matrix look like water pistols. And that he will then blast his enemies to smithereens.

And if asked, “Where in the bible do you find this?” we are quick to point to John’s vision of Jesus’ return in Revelation 19:15, where John tells us, “From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations.”

But have we paused to observe three things?

First, what kind of warrior rides with a sword in his mouth? If this were to be a physical battle with real literal swords, Jesus would be the most pathetic warrior of all. After all, he rides out with the sword in his mouth!

Second, the judgment is directed not at humans but at the nations. That is, the judgment in chapter 19 is directed at human communal life rather than human individuals.

Third, in chapter 19 verse 13 we realize that Jesus’ robe is bloodstained before the battle. This blood can only refer to the blood he shed on the cross. Even at his second coming, his death on the cross is at the fore and visible.

The point about Jesus made by Revelation 19 is that he is the one who speaks God’s word, that same word, which Hebrews tells us is a sharp two edged sword capable of carrying out God’s judgment. John is telling us that Jesus’ weapon is not a literal sword but the truth that he but need speak. In context, the truth Jesus proclaims will be that in death he was victorious. Judgment proceeds from this declaration on everything that rejected or opposed Jesus’ victory on the cross. And the first aspect of human life that is judged by God’s word is our communal life—church or state, sacred or profane, religious or secular—by which we not only justify our violence in God’s name, but by which we also claim that God is a God who through Jesus will inflict violence. After all, the final reason for judgment on Babylon in chapter 18 is “in you was found the blood of prophets and of saints; and of all who have been slaughtered on earth.”

Make no mistake about this. The more we insist that Jesus is going to return and make Braveheart seem like Little Miss Muffet, the more we will call down the judgment of God’s word on ourselves. The more we insist that Jesus will inflict physical violence on God’s enemies, the more we reveal that we really believe that it is not the truth Jesus speaks that sets us free, but violence. The more we insist that Jesus is going to lead an army at a final battle, the more we reveal that we really do not believe that it is by Jesus’ word that the universe is sustained. To put it blatantly, the more we insist that Jesus is going to put into effect God’s judgment with more than his word, the more we show ourselves to be idolaters who worship not the God who gives life and who condemns the slaughter of humans but the various pagan gods of war, violence, and death.

Does this mean that Jesus is not a conqueror? Far from it! In the Revelation of Jesus Christ, Jesus is warning us not to view conquest in ways dictated by the world.

Remember, the angel tells John to look at the Lion of the tribe of Judah who had conquered. Jesus’ victory is not up for grabs. Jesus’ victory is not being questioned. What is being scrutinized is our understanding of victory and how it is to be achieved.

Let us allow the scriptures to shock us. What can be more jarring than the idea that the victorious one is the victim? Who would ever think of a slaughtered lamb as anything but the one who was defeated? “Look!” cries the angel, “the lion of Judah!” But what John sees is something that is completely different from a lion. He sees a meek butchered lamb.

This scandal is one over which the church continues to stumble. We are so dissatisfied with this meek, slaughtered Jesus, that we project all the violence we would like him to do onto his second coming. We are so fraught with violent tendencies that we make Jesus do at his second coming everything he refused to do at his first.

More shamefully, we draw a sharp contrast between Jesus’ first coming—supposedly in humility—and his second coming—supposedly in glory—when the New Testament time and time again tells us that Jesus’ glory is best revealed when he strained against the nails that held him to that blood stained cross.

Why? Why do we not see this? Why do we refuse to see the full glory of Jesus on the cross? Is it not a sign of a rejection of Jesus’ glory on the cross to insist that he will return as a commander-in-chief of a literal army? If the forces of evil were defeated once and for all at the cross—and which of us will say that they weren’t?—then what more does Jesus have to do but announce his victory to those defeated foes?

Why? Why do we refuse to recognize Jesus’ glory? Why do we make Jesus out to be no different from pagan gods who vanquish their enemies in gruesome battles?

There is only one reason. Listen carefully, for none of us likes to hear this.

If we believe Jesus will abstain from violence at his second coming, we will have no justification for our violence today. If, however, we believe Jesus will inflict violence when he returns, we will be able to justify in his name our violence today.

You see, we Christians are like all other humans, bloodthirsty to the core, seeking vengeance in every way possible. Instead of reading scripture and letting its portraits of Jesus transform us, we find ways of reading scripture that justify our blood lust, thereby creating Jesus in our image.

Our desire to see ourselves avenged makes us ashamed of the slaughtered lamb. In our minds, this slaughtered lamb can only show himself the victor if he became a ferocious lion. And it is here that scripture condemns us. For what The Revelation of Jesus Christ ultimately tells us is—mark this—there is no lion! There is no lion. There is no victorious lion for whom we wait. There is no conquering lion who will come to solidify his reign.

What The Revelation of Jesus Christ ultimately tells us is this—there is only a lamb, a butchered lamb. At the center of creation, at the focal point of history, in the throne room of the universe stands a lamb who was slain and who forever will bear the marks of his victorious death.

The obstacle for the church has been the same as that for the Jews. The Old Testament in many places tells us not to resort to violence.

Unlike pagan creation stories, in which creation is the by product of a war among the gods, Genesis tells us that creation is the good work of a good God who was never opposed in his designs. Moses leads the Israelites out of Egypt without their having to raise a sword. Joshua witnesses the walls of Jericho fall to the sound of worship. Gideon commands his small band to shatter earthen pots and watches as God confuses the Midianites.

God warns the Israelites against having a human king precisely because human kings would lead them to war. Isaiah tells us that a time is coming when humans will beat their swords—tools of destruction—into ploughshares—tools of production. Jeremiah counsels the Jewish exiles not to plan revolt but to pray for their captors. Ezekiel pronounces Yahweh’s judgment on the leaders of Israel for sending the young men to war and not relying on Yahweh’s supernatural deliverance.

Daniel has a vision of earthly kingdoms established by violence being superceded by God’s kingdom established without violence. Hosea denounces the international treaties made by Israel, which have only led to bloodshed. Joel comforts Israel by telling them that God will, without the aid of their armies, deliver them from their enemies. In Amos, God announces that he detests Israel’s fortresses, with which they display their strength.

God admonishes Jonah for wanting God to refuse to forgive the Ninevites even though they repented. Micah repeats Isaiah’s call to beat swords into ploughshares. Nahum rebukes Nineveh for the bloodshed it had caused. God tells Habakkuk that the right way to deal with impending conquest is to have faith that God would deliver them, not from, but through the disaster.

Zephaniah paints a day of cosmic calamity, which turns out to be for the purification of the world. In Haggai, God urges the Israelites to finish building the second Temple so that God could usher in worldwide peace. Zechariah challenges the Israelites who returned from exile to watch as God changed them from being objects of cursing to objects of blessing among the nations. And Malachi foresees a great and terrible day of the Lord, which is characterized not by destruction but by healing.

Despite all this, the Jewish people in the first century expected God’s deliverance to come through a warrior messiah. We Christians pooh-pooh them for this as if to say, “If only they had eyes to see!” As though we had eyes to see!

If we did have eyes to see, why is it that we hang on to the only mention of Jesus as a lion—even when John never sees a lion—and neglect the 28 instances in the same book that tell us that Jesus is—and always will be—a lamb? Like the Jews of the first century, we cherish a vision not of the suffering and victorious Jesus but of a sword-wielding, destroyer Jesus.

But the Revelation of Jesus Christ tells us that, if we are expecting Jesus to be like the deliverer that the Jews of the first century expected, we are looking for a phantom. That Jesus does not exist. The only Jesus who exists is the Lamb of God, who by his death has exposed the lies of Satan, defeated the forces of darkness, and who need only speak the word of truth in order to completely unravel once and for all Satan’s lie—the lie that we in the church also believe, namely that there is violence that is redemptive.

This is the only Jesus there is. This is the Jesus who offended even John the Baptizer. But as Jesus told John, so also he tells the church today, “Blessed are those who are not scandalized on my account.” The scandal associated with Jesus is the scandal of Judah’s Lion. We may wait all we want for Judah’s Lion. But he will not show up. Because the scandal of Judah’s Lion is that there is no lion. The only one who will show up is not Judah’s Lion, but Calvary’s Lamb. “Blessed are those who are not scandalized on his account.”