Thinking Christian

Why did Jesus come? In his own words,

For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.

I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness. 47 If anyone hears my words and does not keep them, I do not judge him; for I did not come to judge the world but to save the world.

(Luke 19:10, John 12:46-47)

The word “save” is perfectly accurate and correct in this context, but for many it has turned gooey-religious and lost its meaning. We’ve seen the signs so often proclaiming “Jesus saves;” but the signs don’t say what he saves from. Would-be wits have scribbled “at First National Bank” on the signs. You have to credit them for at least offering some kind of conclusion—albeit a wrong one—to the sentence.

The sentence is grammatically complete: “saves” can be used as an intransitive verb with no direct object. There was a time when it was semantically complete, too, because readers, knowing what it was about, would have filled in the rest of the thought in their minds. That’s no longer true. The “Jesus saves” signs still dot the countryside, though, lacking in the meaning they once held. “Jesus saves” has unfortunately become, for many readers, a phrase without meaning.

So let us fill in the gaps. The quotes above refer to being lost, to darkness, and to judgment. To be lost (in the everyday sense, not the spiritual sense) is to be away from home, safety, and connection with loved ones, not knowing how to find the way back. It is a condition of helplessness. Sure, it’s possible to be “lost” and not be completely helpless (ask any man who has wondered where he was on a road trip), if one can find guides and cues to find one’s way back. Still, that’s consistent with what Jesus is saying here. When you’re lost, you need help.

To be lost and in darkness at the same time is to be in difficulty multiplied. In the summer of 1977 I worked as a stage hand at the Interlochen Music Camp near Traverse City, Michigan. All the stage crew, 22 men, shared one cabin there. The very first night, I had to get up in the middle of the night to “use the euphemism,” as one of my fellow stage crew members liked to say it. It was dark. I mean, really, really dark. I could see nothing. I didn’t know where a flashlight was, and I wasn’t about to try to find a light switch with 21 other people sleeping there. I was new to the place, so I had little guidance by way of memory or experience. I don’t know how long it took, but sure seemed like a long time before I finally found my way where I needed to be. Now, in the grand scheme of things it was a very short experience and really quite inconsequential. I was in no danger. Still, the sense of near-helplessness was unforgettable. I can hardly imagine being really lost, out in the elements, with predators around, in absolute darkness.

The difficulty goes exponential, though, if one is not just lost in darkness, but also under judgment. What comes to mind here is solitary confinement. I toured Alcatraz Island once—it was a prison island years ago, but now it’s open for visitors. The tour includes the opportunity to be shut in solitary for a few seconds. That was long enough for me. If I had actually deserved to be there in the judgment of some court, it wouldn’t have been over so soon.

This is what Jesus came to rescue us from. “Rescue” means the same as “save,” but I’m hoping a different word choice will cut through the religious numbness many readers experience in connection with the word “saves.” We stand under judgment for rebellion against God. Our rebellion (sin) has put us in darkness: we cannot see ourselves for who we are in reality; and we especially cannot see God for who he really is. And we cannot find our own way out. Without help—without a rescuer—we are doomed to die that way. We’re locked in solitary forever.

But here is the astonishing mystery of God’s grace and love: though we have rebelled against him, he still loves us (Romans 5:6-11):

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.

“Reconciliation” here is another of the many terms the Bible gives for getting un-lost; coming back home, as it were, to the One who loves us and with whom we were meant to live in a relationship of deep love and grace. The “blood” of Jesus mentioned here is a reference to his death on the cross for us (see also here), and “justified” means something approximately like being acquitted, not having to bear guilt, being released from judgment and God’s just anger toward rebellion against his goodness and his dominion.

This, then, is the story of what Jesus came to rescue us from.

Print Friendly

No automatically-generated related posts found.