death

Baptism as Death & Resurrection

by Ben Zornes · Dec 30, 2024

Scripture instructs to understand baptism as a death and resurrection. The world’s story is one of life coming out of death. Nothing followed by something. Seeds becoming harvest. Slaves becoming freemen. Gravestones being rolled away. Every episode of Scripture regales us with the story of death followed by resurrection.

That is most profoundly the case in our personal salvation. In our baptism we’re united to Christ, and this includes not just the person of Christ but all of His righteous works on our behalf. The pinnacle of that work is His death and resurrection. Paul describes baptism in terms of the dying and rising that takes place when a seed is planted: “For if we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection (Rom 6:5).” In baptism you are joined with the story of God’s glorious work of creation & redemption; a story where death is not the final word. Yes, you do die, but you die in Christ, and therefore you also shill rise with Christ into His everlasting life. Resurrection is the final word.

The Inescapable Story of Jesus 15 | The Cup He Drank

by Ben Zornes · Oct 16, 2024

Introduction

There is not a more familiar image in Western Civilization than Jesus upon the cross. Its familiarity must never blunt the truth of what it means. Its prevalence should never shroud how shocking it is. Its ubiquity can never dull the shine from its glory.

The Text

And straightway in the morning the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council, and bound Jesus, and carried him away, and delivered him to Pilate. And Pilate asked him, Art thou the King of the Jews? And he answering said unto him, Thou sayest it. And the chief priests accused him of many things: but he answered nothing. And Pilate asked him again, saying, Answerest thou nothing? behold how many things they witness against thee. But Jesus yet answered nothing; so that Pilate marvelled. […]
Mark 15:1ff

Summary of the Text

As the morning dawns, the Sanhedrin carry Jesus to be tried by the Roman procurator Pontius Pilate (Cf. 13:9). The pagan ruler begins his examination with a question that will echo through this whole chapter: Are you the King of the Jews? Jesus confesses this is indeed His identity (vv1-2). The chief priests put forward a flurry of accusations, and Jesus replies to none of them (Cf. Is. 53:7), causing Pilate to marvel (vv3-5). Concerned with keeping the peace, Pilate had an annual custom of releasing a Jewish prisoner to the Jews (v6). Mark informs us that in Pilate’s prison in chains was a murderous insurrectionist named Barabbas (v7). Pilate attempts to induce the crowd to choose Jesus the King of the Jews, because he discerned that the only reason Jesus was before him was because of the chief priests’ envy of Jesus (vv8-10). The chief priests incite the people to choose Barabbas, and when Pilate asks what should be done with their king, they shout out, despite his reasoning with them, to crucify Jesus (vv11-14). Pilate appeases them by releasing the guilty man and scourging the innocent man (v15).

The pagan soldiers then mock and beat Jesus, and the central focus of their mockery is his claim to be King of the Jews (vv16-20). Mark includes a quick reference to Simon of Cyrene carrying Jesus’ cross to Golgotha, or Skull Hill (vv21-22, Cf. Mk. 8:34). Upon arriving at this frequent hill of public executions, they offer pain-dulling wine to Jesus; He refuses as He is intent to endure the sufferings fully (v23). The Romans divide the robes of this king (v24). At 9am they crucified Jesus (v25). The main chord of this chapter is struck once more as Mark tells of the sign posted on the cross describing Jesus’ crime: The King of the Jews (v26). Two thieves are crucified with him on His right hand and left (Cf. Mk. 10:40), in fulfillment of Scripture (vv27-28, Cf. Is. 53:12).

Then a barrage of mockers gather around to taunt. They heckle Him with His claim about rebuilding the temple; ironically, they invite Him to demonstrate His power by coming down from the cross, the very means whereby He was in fact rebuilding the temple (vv29-30). The chief priests and scribes join in the jeering. His deliverance of others from their infirmities is cruelly twisted into mocking Him for being unable to deliver Himself. In their mind, the Anointed King of Israel should be delivering them from the Romans, not being killed by them. Even the two robbers join in the mockery (vv31-32). So, the Roman Soldiers, the common people, the chief priests and scribes, and robbers all mock Jesus’ claim that He was the Christ, the Son of the Blessed and the Son of Man come to bring judgement on the world.

A new Exodus is underway, and darkness descends from the 6th to the 9th hour (v33). Jesus cries out the first line of Psalm 22, and the people mistakenly assume He’s calling for Elijah; someone runs off and returns with a sponge of sour wine. Once Jesus drinks it He cries out and dies (vv34-37). Like the inauguration of God’s covenant with Abraham, where darkness descended and animals were cut in halves, darkness has descended but this time it is the temple veil which is torn in half (v38, Cf. Gen. 15:12). As the old creation passes away, Mark places the decisive words of his Gospel story on the lips of a Gentile centurion: Truly this man was the Son of God (v39).

Mark then introduces us to a group of women and a Sanhedrin member who make arrangements for the first stage of Jesus’ burial process. Joseph of Arimathea, at significant personal risk and cost, seeks permission from Pilate to bury Jesus; Pilate is surprised that Jesus was already dead. After confirming Jesus’ death, Pilate gives permission for the burial process to commence; but that process will be, shall we say, interrupted (vv40-47).

King of the Jews

Remember where Mark started: The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. At every turn, as Mark has whisked us from scene to scene, he has been showing us that Christ was heading to the cross deliberately. Jesus came to deliver. He came to cleanse. He came to bind Satan. He came to remake and rule over the world. And this rule would not be confined or cornered or compromised.

The crucifixion narrative deliberately mingles the theological and the political. At the Jews’ trial of Jesus, He confessed in Jewish theological terminology that He was the Christ, the Son of God and Son of Man. Then, before a Gentile ruler, He confesses in political terms His identity as King of the Jews. These two confessions of Jesus reveal that He is Lord over every sphere of human experience, whether theological or political, whether sacred or secular. The cross truly is the hinge of history.

Israel had been tasked to deliver the world from sin by being a kingdom of priests. Thus, the uncleanness and clutter which Jesus found in Israel and its temple truly was a vile abuse of Israel’s calling. All of Israel had failed in its calling. This is the significance of Jesus dying as the King of the Jews. Israel had been tasked with administering cleansing from sin and fellowship with God to all peoples of the earth. They had not only neglected this assignment, but had perversely twisted it and disobeyed it. So then, the anointed King of Israel died in order to bring about this mediatorial arrangement for all the nations.

Jesus had stated that he would not drink the fruit of the vine until that day that He would drink it new in the kingdom of God (Mar. 14:25). As He is on the cross, He is offered the sour wine, fruit of the vine; and so we can most assuredly assert that the kingdom of our God and of His Christ had indeed come. It came through the cross of Christ alone.

His Life for Mine

The crucifixion scene is indeed so awful and so sweet. Betrayed. Denied. Surrounded by mocking Jews and Gentiles, robbers and religious rulers. Jesus stripped naked. The foreboding clouds of darkness gathering to warn that soon the firstborn Son would be struck down. Israel was about to be delivered from tyranny. Israel had become Egypt, while Jesus was true Israel. All those in Him join in His Exodus out of the sinful old world and into the liberty of the new creation.

You must see that if you would enter into the kingdom of this King who was destroying Satan’s kingdom and remaking the entire world, it is only through His cross. Which is why Mark puts in a scene that is staggering in its simplicity. Barabbas the murderer is set free, meanwhile the King of the Jews is put to death. Here is the glorious doctrine of substitutionary atonement: the guilty goes free while the Innocent One dies in his place. Christ’s life is laid down in place of yours. Mark has written the story with such rapid action and dramatic tension to bring his listeners both ancient and modern to be challenged to make a confession. The prophets foretold it. The Father twice declared it. Lastly, a representative of the nations, the pagan Centurion overseeing the cruel injustice of Christ’s crucifixion, made the confession. Mark challenges you to make that same confession by faith: Truly this is the Son of God.

CHARGE & BENEDICTION

Mark’s description of the crucifixion isn’t intended to illicit your pity. You’re not supposed to come away feeling sorry for Jesus, although it is most sorrowful. Rather, Mark heralds this Gospel in such a way as to summon you to confess your faith in this Christ, in this King of the Jews. Pity puts you in a position of looking down upon this poor unfortunate soul, whereas Mark makes it plain that Jesus’ crucifixion is His triumph. Jesus has established God’s Kingdom, and the question for you is: will you swear allegiance to this King and His Kingdom?

The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen.
2 Corinthians 13:14

Other sermons in this series

Andrew Peck, RIP

by Ben Zornes · Sep 12, 2023

Prayer

Almighty God,

You are the Lord and giver of life. You are the one by whom we live and move and have our being. You have numbered our days, and by Your decree the sparrows fall, the deer give birth, the forests sway, the mountains melt. Indeed, because You are sovereign over all, we find profound comfort when You ordain circumstances that bring great grief and sorrow. We come now, by Your providence and purpose, to mourn the death of our brother & friend, Andrew. This sorrow has brought us low, and so we pray that by the comfort of Your Word You would raise us up to the joy of Your Presence, which will never leave us nor forsake us. Because we are Your covenant people, Your mercy follows us all the days of our lives, even days of grief and mourning. Grant us faith, even as grief besets us, that we might take hope and refuge in the everlasting arms of Your almighty power and love. And so bring us all, at last, by the Resurrection power of Jesus Christ, to our eternal home.

So God Almighty, the defender of widows and orphans, we worship You now through Jesus Christ Your Son, who is the Resurrection & the Life, and the Holy Spirit, One God, world without end, Amen.

The Text

18 The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit. 19 Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all. 20 He keepeth all his bones: not one of them is broken. 21 Evil shall slay the wicked: and they that hate the righteous shall be desolate. 22 The LORD redeemeth the soul of his servants: and none of them that trust in him shall be desolate.
Psalms 34:18-22

Our Various Afflictions

David gives us a godly example of how God’s people should face afflictions. He does not deny their presence. Nor does he sugarcoat them. He stares them down with the bold certainty of evangelical faith.

Many are the afflictions of the righteous. There are minor afflictions which we all face each day. Most of our afflictions go unnoticed by those around us. But our hearts are often afflicted with invisible trials of the soul, our bodies are beset with unseen strains upon our physical strength, and our minds are riddled with various temptations. Then there are great afflictions which cannot be hidden. They are out in the open. Their public nature even adds, in some part, to the weight of the affliction. These great afflictions might be seen in financial ruin, severe suffering in our physical health, and that greatest affliction which we know: the death of someone beloved by us.

Here we are gathered due to that last sort of suffering. It is an affliction. We live in a good world, made by God’s gracious hand. Yet still the scar tissue of Sin is seen all around us. Death is a bitter foe, and its bitterness is compounded when the death brings with it a whole catalogue of unanswered questions.

The Lord our Redeemer

But there is bedrock beneath us, if we have the eyes to see it. Underneath all the sorrow and sighings, there is a bright glory, for as the Psalmist intimates, God is not far off. He is not a deity who cannot be found, or is aloof, or is so lofty so as to not be concerned with our tears. We’re told elsewhere he puts the tears of His saints in a bottle (Ps. 56:8). He is the God who took on flesh in order to sympathize with us in the sorrows of our fallen humanity.

Andrew, who was baptized into Christ and professed faith in Christ, was an afflicted saint. His final affliction might seem to our eyes to have swallowed him up entirely. But our earthly eyes are often nearsighted. The Psalmist here brings us an eagle-eyed word of glory. Yes, the righteous endure great afflictions, afflictions which may even appear to devour them whole. But what does our Lord declare? “But the LORD delivereth him out of them all.” This word, this word of everlasting comfort, is the cornerstone of your faith.

God delivers the righteous out of all their afflictions. So then, the only deliverance from our afflictions is found by being counted by God as righteous. But does the term righteous describe any of us? You and I stand before God filthy, defiled, stained by our sins, entirely unrighteous. We bear the scars of sins we’ve inflicted on others and which others have inflicted upon us. Our hearts accuse us. Our conscience bears witness that we have transgressed God’s Holy Law up one side and down the other. Our soul may even be tormented by dark despair. But the Apostle John states, “For if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things (1 John 3:20).”

Our heart & conscience may accuse us of our unrighteousness. But God is greater. And how does He display that greatness? He takes unrighteous men & women, and by grace through faith, reckons them righteous. The only way He does this is by clothing you in Christ. So, for you to know the complete deliverance which David describes, you must be clothed with Another’s righteousness. This means that we must be, in David’s words, of a contrite spirit and of a broken heart.

In other words, God brings us low, He humbles us, He brings us to see the futility of our good works that we might cling to Christ alone. This is the answer key which guides us out of the maze of our many afflictions. It isn’t by turning away from the ugliness of our afflictions. Rather, it is by seeing that the transcendent God came near to us by sending His Son, in the likeness of human flesh, to bear our infirmities, to carry the sorrows of all that it means to be human, to suffer all the pangs of death, that He might restore to us the abundant life which He had intended for us in the Garden.

God is near the brokenhearted (v18), because He has opened their eyes to see their own brokenness. God saves the contrite in spirit (v18), because He has revealed to them their need for contrition. The proud will not taste the sweetness of deliverance from their afflictions (v21).

Hidden in plain sight in this Psalm is a prophecy that in Christ’s crucifixion His bones were not broken (v20). The Gospel writers cite this Psalm as a proof that Christ was indeed the Righteous One of God. He endured all the wrath of God upon sin, all the despair of the curse which our sin had brought down on our heads, and yet, by the power of God, His bones were not broken. The Son was stricken and afflicted, brought down to the grave; and yet He emerged bright with the everlasting life of His resurrection. He endured the greatest affliction, that He might deliver the saints from all of their afflictions. He now gives this life freely to all who come to Him. The Eternal Son descended down into the depths of our human despair, and He emerged triumphant from that battle, and we by faith share in that victory. And we can trust that Andrew, by his faith in Christ, shared in that same victory. For the only hope for our despair is the Righteous Despair of Christ upon the tree.

Desolate No More

Finally, note that in this Psalm, those who hate the righteous are made desolate, while those who trust in the Lord will not be left desolate. All the ways in which our afflictions empty us out, God, by His mercy fills us up, loads our arms full, crowns us with His own glory and everlasting joy.

This is the sure word of the Gospel: those who trust in Christ will not be left desolate. Here, in the Word made flesh, in the One who once died and was buried, but now lives forevermore, is fullness. Indeed, this is how the Apostle Paul describes our Lord Jesus: “The fullness of Him that filleth all in all.” So, for all those who are afflicted, in Christ & by Christ, desolation is not your lot. Instead, the fullness of the potent grace of God is your eternal inheritance.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

Grief in a Time of Gladness

by Ben Zornes · Nov 28, 2022

As I’m sure you’re already aware, the next month will be a sprint of Christmas hullabaloo. The central message of our celebration is that of good news of great joy for all nations: Christ has come. The centrality of joy should be unmistakable.

But amidst all the joyful anthems, alongside all the favorite traditions, hiding in the corner of many otherwise joyful hearts is a pang of sorrow. The dull grief of loss is sharpened anew. The memory of past celebrations brings a fresh wave of mourning. The realization comes anew that their laugh will no more be heard, their embrace no more felt, their presence will no longer warm the room.

This is where the potency of the Gospel shines brightest. For the Savior born in Bethlehem, as Isaiah foretold, would bear our griefs, carry our sorrows, and bring about the death of death. While the story is still in the telling, the ending is certain.

All your grief will soon melt into tears of glad rejoicing. All your sighs will give way to songs of triumph. All the nights of weeping shall break forth into an endless dawn of joy. The bitter bud of trials, will become the sweet fruit of sanctified glory. The darkest threads of the tapestry will give, from the distance of eternity, a deeper contrast to the whole.

The joy in all our sorrows is that God became a man and dwelt among us. He drank up the cup of our suffering to the very last dregs, so that you might drink only the finest of vintage from the cellar of His grace. Grace to comfort you in your most grievous trial. Grace to confirm you in your highest joys. Grace for the valley and the mountain. Indeed, our darkest sufferings are where this Good News of great joy shines the brightest.

Our sorrows too often become excuses to foster self-pity, indulge carnal lusts, ignore faithful reading of the Word, or flee the fellowship of the body of Christ. Yet our Father offers to carry our every last burden, and by the cross of our Lord Jesus we see that even the worst suffering, by the power of God, breaks forth in glorious resurrection. May we go to God for forgiveness for not bringing our sorrows, pain, and grief to Him; further, we must repent of the ways in which we fail to bear each others burdens, as well as making our burdens known one to another in order that we might bring each other to Christ, our great High Priest, who suffered in our stead. May God give us grace to turn from the ways which we’ve tried to soothe our pain & grief apart from Christ, and may we walk in the true joy which Christ’s advent is intended to bring us, that there is eternal joy beyond all of earth’s sorrows.

The Divine Joke on Death

by Ben Zornes · May 3, 2022

There’s a profound irony at play here. God is letting us in on a divine joke. To earthly perception an infant presented for baptism has a full life before them. It would seem like death is far off. Yet this sign joins us to death. Of course, not just any death, but Christ’s death.

If you aren’t joined to this death, the death of Christ, you shall remain joined––no matter how long your life is––to Adam’s death. Life outside of being bound to Christ’s death, is dying even while you live. Yet by dying here, this saint is promised life forevermore.

The divine joke in baptism is that by surrendering our life to Christ’s death, we receive His life & are delivered from eternal death. Indeed, in our baptism those words of Christ ring loud and clear: whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life shall gain it.

So welcome our sister/brother to Jesus Christ…

The Tale is True

by Ben Zornes · Apr 6, 2021

The tale is true. This world is strewn with hints. All the clues are there. We are tipped off each time we plant seeds in the spring and harvest the fruit in the fall; or every time the sun sets, only to rise again the next morning; or when the dark chill of winter gives way to the bright green of April.

When God spoke the words of creation, it was foretold, for pulsing with life something came from dead nothingness. When God put Adam to sleep and made Eve, He was inviting us into the inside scoop that life would come from death. Noah emerging from the ark. Abraham receiving back Isaac on Mt. Moriah. Joseph being raised from Pharaohâ€™s prison to Pharaohâ€™s right hand. Moses leading Israel through the Red Sea. Joshua conquering the five kings, hanging them on a tree, and then burying them in a cave. Samson delivering Israel by bringing the temple of Dagon down upon Himself. Davidâ€™s psalmody tells of many a time where he was near death, and then by Godâ€™s deliverance raised to triumph. The prophets all foretold it, some like Jeremiah were cast into pits to be a sign of it. But for those who have been given eyes to see, ears to hear, hearts to understand, there it is in creation and in scripture, plain as day. Life out of death is the story God has been telling us from the very get go.

Now we, those who believe all this in faith, taste life that came from death. Death that will soon be written out of the story. Death whose days are numbered. Death who doesnâ€™t get the last line of the story.

Earthly bread canâ€™t sustain you forever. Medical science canâ€™t keep you alive indefinitely. Here, in this bread & wine which is Christâ€™s body & blood, youâ€™re offered life out of death. Eternal life is here, bursting through the seams, that you might truly live. So see, hear, & believe the story that God is telling all around us.

So come in faith and welcome to Jesusâ€¦

Death Shalt Be No More

by Ben Zornes · Mar 30, 2018

I’m reading through George Herbert’s The Temple, and this poem seemed quite fitting for the Easter season.

A Dialogue-Anthem<fn>Herbert, George. The Temple (Penguin Clothbound Poetry) (p. 264). Penguin Books Ltd. Kindle Edition.</fn>

Christian. Death.

Chr.

Alas, poor Death, where is thy glory?
Where is thy famous force, thy ancient sting?

Dea.

Alas poor mortal, void of story,
Go spell and read how I have killâ€™d thy King.

Chr.

Poor Death! and who was hurt thereby?
Thy curse being laid on him, makes thee accurst.

Dea.

Let losers talk: yet thou shalt die;
These arms shall crush thee.

Chr.

Spare not, do thy worst. I shall be one day better than before:
Thou so much worse, that thou shalt be no more.