New Thoughts (1/13/04-1/15/04)
I am struck by a number of things in this message delivered of an angel. First is the marvelous way this story unfolds on the heals of Isaiah's message. Mark, who reminds us of these prophecies, is also about to tell us about John, although we won't see that for some time yet. Mark jumps straight to the beginning of John's ministry. Only Luke takes us back to the start of the matter. "Behold, I send My messenger before You!" That other portion of Malachi's message that Mark didn't include: "the One you have been looking for is coming quickly, coming suddenly to His temple." Here, the prophecy unfolds into time, the sought-for is now imminent.
Notice, also, the assurance with which the messenger delivers his message. Everything he has to say, he says with command and with certainty. "Fear not!" It's not a suggestion, nor really even a request. It's a command. Your awe is misplaced. Fear God, and Him only! "You will have a son." No possibility of its being otherwise is allowed by the phrase. "You will name him John." Again, the statement is so assured, so certain. You could almost view all three as commands. You! Beget a son. When he arrives, name him John. These are orders.
Perhaps there is also another matter reflected in that certainty. God, we know, dwells outside of time, He being the creator of time. Is it possible that the angels, inhabitants of the heavenly realm that they are, are also outside of time, or at least interact with its flow in a different fashion? Does the angel's certainty reflect some knowledge of what will follow? Or, is it simply a reflection on the established righteousness of Zacharias, that God knows this command will be obeyed faithfully?
One thing is quite certain, though. God is intimately involved. In the course of time there arose that branch of thought which suggested that there is a God, but He pretty much created and left. Scripture teaches something completely opposed to that viewpoint. He is here, as Francis Schaeffer wrote, and He is not silent. We see here just how intimately He is concerned with His children. We see it in its general scope, God stooping down to the aide of the whole of humanity as He manifests His Salvation. We see it, also, on a very personal level, as He answers the longstanding prayers of one simple priest, and answers it most magnificently.
This is where Providence stands opposed to the remote-God theory. They would have it that He simply set the laws of nature in motion and then stepped aside. Providence understands that those very laws of nature are already evidence of His intimate involvement in the whole of creation. They also understand that beyond these laws, the Creator can and does intervene as suits His divine purposes. The remote God theorists begin with the supposition that the miraculous cannot have occurred, but is a simple matter of natural law in action that has been misunderstood and misattributed. God is not bound by their theories. He clearly indicates His own miraculous methods. He clearly declares that such miracles are the sign and seal of His presence in man. They shall go forth preaching the Gospel, accompanied by signs and wonders. Amongst the people who serve God, there ought not to be any cynical denial of the miraculous. Rather, there ought to be the expectation of it. The miraculous ought to border on being the norm of our experience!
This matter of God's intimacy is, I think, one of two messages that need to be carried out of the present passage. It is not only with these unique individuals that God is intimately concerned, but also with me. He has laid out specific circumstances in my life just as He did for Zacharias and Elizabeth, just as He is shown doing throughout the pages of Scripture. Before the beginning, He had already determined the start and the end of this life. He had already put into motion every 'chance' encounter that would be necessary to draw me to Him. For that matter, He was quite aware that I would be studying this particular passage on this particular day, and He's perfectly aware of what needs may arise as the day progresses, fully aware of the good works He has already set along my path for me to do.
As an aside, I want to note the level of detail in this narrative. We are not simply told that an angel appeared to Zacharias, we are told almost exactly where he appeared. He stood not only in the Holy of Holies, but specifically, he was standing to the right of the altar of incense. Is there significance in his position? Not that I'm aware of. What I find significant is that this is not the sort of detail one would throw in at random. It is evidence of Luke's level of research and investigation. I think it is beyond doubt that he had spoken to Zacharias himself. Who else would have known? Who else would have thought to mention it? You can almost hear Zacharias relating the events to Luke. "I walked in with that coal and there he was! This man (or so he appeared) standing right next to the altar! Just over there! And the glow about him! Well, you can imagine I just about dropped the coal on my own foot, I was so shaken up! For the life of me, I wasn't sure who or what this was before me. But he spoke out to me so gently. Did I say gently? Yes, it was gentle, but his tone, his words, they left no room for argument…"
There's another factor that strikes me at this point, and that is the power of the name. I see it reflected here in the angel's message. Perhaps if I put the meaning of the names back into his greeting: "Do not be afraid. God has remembered. He has heard your prayers, and your wife, by God's oath, will bear you a son. You are to name that son God bent down in favor." The God of oath remembered and bent down in favor. That is pretty much a summary of the whole Gospel. His promise was given to Adam, and throughout the long (to us) ages of history, He has been unfolding His answer to that promise. Now, the hour was come. God had remembered, which is not to suggest He had ever forgotten, and would now bring into history the full answer to the prayer of His own oath. He was bending down in favor towards man. His Son would willingly set aside the glory which is His to come down, to lower Himself to the nature of man, though not so low as fallen man. He would come down to show us what man was created to be, and having come, He would extend the possibility to each one of us to be like Him. God bent down. His ways are so far beyond our comprehension, yet He came and made the incomprehensible understood to us. He bent down, as a Superior to His subordinates, a King to His subjects, and spoke in the words of the common man, that the common man might know he had a place in heaven.
There is another aspect, which a recent tape from R.C. Sproul's ministry pointed out in regards to this passage. From the first chapter of the first book we are given to understand the power of the name, the power of the right of naming. God brought the animals before Adam and told him to name them, to give them names. He also told Adam to have dominion over these same animals. The two ideas are connected. In the naming, dominion was established. In his naming of each animal he was declaring his right over that animal, his rule. This concept was certainly an established understanding in Jewish thought, if it is not so much so in our day.
Each parent experiences this, in their right to choose the name of their child, although I suspect the significance is lost to most of us. I can recall in the time I grew up in that there were some parents who understood this perhaps better than we thought, but refused to take that authority. No, the child could decide its own name when it chose, and could decide again if it didn't like its first choice. In essence, they were abdicating responsibility for the child, and I think they knew that quite well. This is not right. The parent is intended to have authority over the child, to rule him and train him in the ways of the Lord, to establish in him the habits of righteousness that, when he is an adult, will guide him well. Notice that this authority of the parent does not end with the maturation of the child. True, Scripture tells us that when we wed we are to break from our parents, after a fashion, and cleave to our spouse. However, looking at Jesus' denunciation of the abuses of 'corban' current in His day, it becomes clear that this was not a complete shedding of the parental authority. No, they still had a bit of dominion left, in that they had the right of our support as they aged. The power of naming…
That same power is seen in Jacob wrestling with the angel. There is a reason Jacob sought to know his name. It was, in essence, and admission that Jacob had won, that he had subjected this opponent. But, no. In the end, the angel named Jacob. Notice that he did not simply tell Jacob what his name had been, but declared a new name over him. You will be called Israel. The power of naming… There are a few such occasions, where God came and renamed the person; Abraham and Sarah, as well as Jacob come to mind from the Old Testament, and there is Peter in the new. Yet, only twice does He step in to name the child from the outset, taking to Himself the parental right. The first is here with John, the second, of course, is Jesus. What Mr. Sproul points out in this is that God was doing something in this intervention in the naming process. He was declaring beyond all doubt that these two were His own. Though born of human parents, they were His. The parents would be no more than stewards of their early years, the lives belonged to the King.
Now God has not only taken to Himself the power of naming, but He has also, after a fashion given that power to us in full. He has given us the name of His Son, His only begotten. No, we do not gain the power of command over our Savior, how could one expect to have such power over their own King? Yet there is power in that Name as in no other! The power we have been given in His name is to speak on His own authority, to speak as His representative, with the full power of His own office behind our words. Is it any wonder that there is great concern over using that name lightly! What great care we ought to exercise in declaring things in the name of Jesus, of praying things in the name of Jesus!
We know that what we declare on earth is declared in the heavens when we pray thus. What we bind here is bound there, what we loose here is loosed there. We too easily become drunk on the power that is given us! Instead we should be humbled to the point of shaking! What responsibility is given us! What will we do with that power? Will we wield it like a gun in a child's hands, or will we stand forth as true ambassadors, accurately reflecting the will of Him whose name we are given to use? It is a poor ambassador who misrepresents his government, yet this occurs. One reads recently of President Carter declaring his own views to the leaders of another nation, views quite at odds with national policy. Yet, as a past president, his word carries with it still some of the authority belonging to the national leadership. He is still an ambassador of the country of his birth, though in this case a poor one. Let it stand as a reminder to ourselves, ambassadors of the kingdom of heaven. Whether conscientiously or unconsciously, we represent that kingdom in this foreign land. The question we must ask ourselves is how well do we represent it? As we live and labor in the name of our King, Jesus Christ, the Messiah, the Savior, do we represent His office truly? Do we apply the power of His office as He would have it applied, or do we follow our own agenda 'in the power of His name'?
Now here's an interesting thing. Through the words of the angel, we are being introduced to John, who would be known as John the Baptist. What is striking is that every one of the Gospels presents this man, although the others choose to introduce him in active ministry. There's a reason for this, I think. Without John, we don't get to Jesus. This is not to suggest in any way that John is greater than Jesus, only that God had determined the order of things, had declared the order of things. His messengers had long since told Israel that there would first come the messenger to prepare Messiah's way and only then would Messiah come. "Behold, I send My messenger before You." Hundreds of years later, that same prophecy is being declared on a more immediate and more intimate level.
So, why did God insist on this sequence of events? Why not simply give the Messiah His grand entrance? I think the reason becomes evident if we look at the work John performed. His was a ministry of repentance. His mission, as God had declared it and as he himself understood it, was to make straight the way of the Lord - to make Messiah's work more easily accomplished. The King was arriving momentarily, and it was necessary to make His road smooth. Repentance was the tool to smooth that road, which had been made impassible by man's sinfulness. Only where repentance had leveled out the pathways would the King come with salvation.
I see this same significance played out in the temple service in which Zacharias is involved as the message comes forth. In his service, he is declaring exactly what John will be declaring as he ministers in later years. I was actually discussing this with Pastor Najem last night, as his teaching was on much the same subject. We cannot have forgiveness without repentance, he taught, and that forgiveness is the open door that gives us free access to heaven. Can you hear that same message in John's ministry? Repent, for the kingdom is at hand. Come! Open the door to Him who knocks!
See it again in the work being done at the altars in the temple, for there are two distinct altars at play, as we noticed in the last section. There is the altar of burnt offerings from which Zacharias had taken a coal. Now, the sin offerings, the atoning sacrifice which brings forgiveness was placed upon that altar to be consumed by the fire. But if there is no coal upon the altar, no fire, how will the sacrifice be consumed? And, if it be not consumed, how then shall it bring about forgiveness? Now, we know full well that for us there has been made the supreme sacrifice, the Son of God offering Himself, shedding His blood upon the heavenly altar of burnt sacrifice. But is the sacrifice consumed? Is there fire upon the altar? May I suggest that for us, whose body is the temple, the altar is the heart. If the coal of repentance is not upon that altar, then the sacrifice of forgiveness has not been consumed.
It takes the consuming of the sin offering to prepare the coal of repentance for its next task. Until that coal is sanctified by the sacrifice made upon it, it is not fit for the golden altar in the Holy of Holies. The sacrificial work of Christ sanctifies our repentance, and most assuredly our repentance needs sanctification. It is never a full and perfect repentance, but only the best attempt we can manage in our imperfection. It requires atoning by blood, even as the altar of incense required such atoning. Nothing associated with mortal man is fit for the Holy of Holies without it. But the atoning blood, precious as it is, will not cause the incense to burn by itself. Once a year, Aaron was to sprinkle the altar of incense with the blood of the sin offering, the Atonement. But this did not cause smoke to rise. No. It required the coal taken from the fires upon which the sin offering had been consumed to brink smoke from the incense. Without that coal, the incense would simply sit in the golden bowl.
I noted in the previous section that repentance was necessary for our prayers to be heard, for the incense to burn. See that more fully now. That same coal of repentance must be present for forgiveness to come, must be cleansed by that forgiveness before it is fit to purify our prayers. Then and only then can it be applied to the incense of prayer, then and only then will it cause those prayers to ascend to the throne room. Then and only then are the doors of heaven opened to us. The heart of the matter, as Pastor says, is the matter of the heart. The heart: the two altars made one in the temple of the flesh, the living temple of the Living God. Are there coals upon that altar?
Lord, are there coals upon the altar? I know there are many times when repentance is far from me. There are things that I have allowed to continue far too long. I praise You even now, that one by one, these strongholds are falling before You. Still, I know there are those things that come up repeatedly, the besetting sins. The physical issues, Lord, are slowly subsiding as You work upon me. I feel their grip lessening day by day, though I grant You that some days they feel strong still. But what of the emotional, Holy One? Why are those issues so much more difficult, so much more entrenched? I will not say that I cannot shake these issues of pride, of anger, of other things unbecoming to a child of our Father, because that would be a lie. I can, for You tell me I can, and You are not a man such as I am, that You should lie.
What, then, Lord? What am I to do to be free of these things? How shall I bring the sorrow, the godly sorrow, to bear before they take hold again? Only You can bring about an end to these things in me. I know, Jesus, that Your forgiveness is there upon the altar. I know that there are words in my heart, I feel so often the regret of things done. Fan the flames, Holy Spirit, that this would become a regret of things that might be done, that the regret might become restraint, that those things I know will bring regret I will not do. Fan the flames, Holy Spirit, that the coals upon my altar, the repentance in my heart, might consume the forgiveness so freely given, and might cause this prayer to arise before You in purity, purified by Your own presence in the smoke.
Take the coal, touch my lips, purify my heart and let the words of my mouth be pleasing to You.
