God’s Only Plan

Text: John 3:14-21

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

             There are few things that will inflame our sense of justice, of what’s fair and good and right, more than seeing someone get off on a technicality. It’s frustrating to watch. We often know that it’s wrong. From the court defendant that gets away with a crime because a lab botched a test or because their name was filed incorrectly, to a sports team that barely slips through a violation because technically there was no rule blatantly broken, even if it’s clear there was.

            And yet this is not entirely unlike the way we think about God and our relationship to Him. We sin—any of us here would admit that we give in to those things that we know are wrong—and yet we “get away” with it because of the “technicality” that Jesus is standing in the way of God punishing us. We think of being spared because of Jesus as some sort of invasion or manipulation of the system; something foreign to God’s grand judicial scheme; a plan B or an escape hatch out of the divine courthouse.

            Now, I’m not saying that people think about their standing before God as if it were a poorly written TV legal drama. But what I’m getting at is that all too often, it seems that people have two unspoken assumptions. The first is that God is a mean judge, or at least God the Father is, and the only thing keeping Him from dealing with us severely is because Jesus is somehow in the way. This is usually the assumption of the unbelieving world, which has misunderstood the true heart of God, and by those whose consciences have been wounded and they fear condemnation. The second assumption, also made by the unbelieving world and by those who haven’t given consideration to their deeds, is that while we might do things like break God’s Commandments, that it’s not really that bad, so we deserve to have a loophole—that it didn’t hurt anyone or that it really shouldn’t be a sin, so of course we can get off on that technicality.

            But what we learn from our reading today should show us that these two common ways of thinking—even if we never say them out loud or even admit to ourselves that we’ve bought into it—is wrong. Let’s deal with that second assumption right away: that our deeds aren’t really that bad, certainly not bad enough to warrant punishment from God, so we deserve an escape hatch or loophole. We do what we want to do, even if God has told us that it’s not what He wants for us, even if He’s warned us that these things can hurt us in ways we can’t even be aware of until the damage is done. Yet Jesus says, “And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil.” Those works we cling to, that we think aren’t so bad, are what Jesus calls evil, opposed to the Light. And what’s our reaction when we’re told this—by parents or preachers, family or friends, Moses or even Jesus Himself? When it’s pointed out to us that we love our self-chosen ways more than God’s ways? Jesus says, “Everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed.” We try to hide from it, to hide from the light, from the truth, behind rationales and excuses, behind reasons and self-justifications. Just like our first parents hid from God in the Garden of Eden, we still follow their old tricks, hiding from the Light.

            St. Paul puts it another way, to show the seriousness of those things that we think aren’t so bad. “And you were dead in your trespasses and sins in which you once walked…carrying out the desires of the flesh and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.” Dead in our trespasses. That’s the cost of walking in a way different than the way of life. That’s the penalty for the crime, for running from the truth, from the light. It’s death. Jesus’ words set it out plainly. We’ve done dark deeds and deserve the judgment of condemnation.  

            And now we come to the other point of misunderstanding we mentioned earlier. There’s a prevalent idea, among believers and unbelievers alike, that God is this furious judge, waiting to throw the book and punish to the full extent of the Law. The only thing keeping that from happening is the legal loophole of Jesus. Now while it is true that God judges sin—He calls good good and evil evil—it’s also true that He takes no delight in punishing, let alone destroying His creations. Or, as Jesus said, “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

            Jesus’ words reveal the eternal heart of our Triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. His heart is grace. Jesus coming into the world, sharing our human nature, dying in our place on the cross—this is not God’s plan B. Nor is the Son getting in the way of the Father’s will to judge and punish. No, this—His grace, mercy, and forgiveness—this has always been His will. Jesus is not an exception to the rule. His love and mercy is God’s rule. Saving the universe through the Son is what God has desired, what He has always desired, what He has always done, from the very beginning. The promise to Adam and Eve after they ran and hid from God was that the One born of woman alone, the Messiah of virgin birth, would redeem Adam and Eve and all their descendants. And in our reading from the book of Numbers today, when the Israelites complained that they wanted to walk their own way, when they were called back from their rebellion through the fiery serpents, God showed them how He would save them all—at that time and in the future. He commanded that a bronze snake, the image of their problem, be lifted high on a pole, so that all would look to it and live. This saved them in that moment, and it was also to show how, when the time came, God would make Jesus become sin for us, become our very worst problem, and be lifted up so that whoever looks to Him and believes in Him would have eternal life. It’s always been saving us through grace, what we have not deserved. It’s always been setting aside His condemnation in order to have mercy on His people. And this heart of God, this grace, this love is revealed in its purest and fullest when it was poured out from God’s own veins at Calvary, blood shed for you for the forgiveness of sins, blood shared with you here in His house where everything is built on grace.

            We’re in the second half of Lent. Our eyes have been on Jesus’ cross and what it means. As our season of devotion continues, our focus continues to sharpen as we see what the cross is. It’s not a loophole or technicality. It’s not plan B. This has been God’s only plan from the start. This cross is God’s heart, His heart of grace. For by grace you have been saved through faith. It’s always been His heart, His will, His desire, to pay the price—any price—to have us with Him forever. From the beginning, from before the beginning, to now, to forever. It is God’s desire to known as the God of mercy, the God who forgives, the God who gives His own life for us, who gives His eternal life to us. In the name of Jesus, Grace made flesh. Amen.