Bible Study recipes
I Am Joseph – Part 4
It didn’t take me long to decide what to do. For the several nights Mary came by every evening to try and see me. I just had my father send her away – I thought I would see how she liked it for a while. After about a week of this I sent word to her house that I would be divorcing her. It would be a private ceremony, just us and the Rabbi, and then I’m sure Mary would just move away. It would be quick and easy and best of all, over.
That was the first night that I actually slept well. Now I know what I’m about to tell you may sound crazy, but I woke up the next morning with an entirely different aim in mind. I had the strangest dream that night – except it wasn’t like a dream because it was more real than that – it was more like a vision. I’m not sure who it was that told it to me, but I remember the message clearly: “Do not divorce Mary, for her child is from the Holy Spirit.” And then he told me what to make this kid – Yeshua.
I’ve never been so conflicted. First of all I didn’t and still don’t understand all the implications of that dream. I mean, this angel – or whatever he was – called me Joseph son of David, which I’ve never been called, and then he said that there was something special about this little boy. So what was I supposed to do? Was that dream real? Was it from the Lord? Or was it just bad wine from the night before? It was pretty radical if it was real – that meant the Lord was asking me to become unrighteous. He was asking me to give up my reputation and go against the laws of my community. On the other hand, if it wasn’t real, then I would be taking on the responsibility of someone else’s child.
What can you do in a situation like that? You believe you have heard the voice of the Lord but it makes no sense to do what he has said. It defies logic. I mean He might as well have told me to move my whole family to Egypt! But I guess we all face that decision someday. So what could I do? I didn’t divorce Mary that day. In fact, when I talked to her, she told me that she had a dream almost exactly like mine! And believe it or not, she told me that she had actually not even, you know, been with a man. I know, crazy right? But it was sane enough for us to believe.
So against the advice of my father we continued our marriage. I with I could tell you that it was smooth after that. I wish I could tell you that our families fell in line and supported the decision we had made. I with I could say that we were not persecuted and that people didn’t whisper when we walked by. But I can’t. The day of our wedding was the worst. Usually the wedding happens about a year after the engagement begins and it can be a week long celebration, but not ours. Ours was quiet. Nobody from the community wanted to come. My mother was a basket case – she cried through the whole thing and then went home right after. Mary and I ended up just having a quiet meal at home together.
Things didn’t get better, either. People stopped coming to my father’s shop. My mother could barely go to the market without being publicly disgraced. Mary wasn’t even on speaking terms with her parents. We finally decided that the best thing for us to do would be to move from Nazareth. Maybe we could get a fresh start.
That’s really what we were thinking when we went to Bethlehem. Now that was an ordeal. Have you ever tried to make a 4 day trip with a pregnant woman? Let me tell you – the bathroom stops alone are enough to drive you nuts. That’s where my son was born – in a cave on the side of a hill in Bethlehem. And that’s the story of how our family began. Life was a little better in our new town, but we still got the looks when we walked down the street. We feel judged a lot of the time. And sometimes, if I am honest, I would have to say that it’s hard not to be angry at God. I was convinced that this is what he wanted from me, so where is the blessing for my obedience? Is my reward the disapproval of others? Is my reward a tarnished reputation? What about all the names that people call me and I know they will call my son? Is that our reward?
But in those moments when I feel angry, I catch a glimpse of my son – my little boy. I realize that this – my relationship with Jesus – is what really matters. And it’s like just for a moment everything that I once thought was profit – my own righteousness, my reputation, my job – I now consider loss. In fact, I consider all things as loss compared to the surpassing greatness of just knowing this little boy. And I’m not alone in that. I see in his eyes that he wants to know me, too. He loves me – not because I am a great guy, or have flawless righteousness, or because I am a great carpenter, but just because of who I am. He loves me because of our relationship.
It’s love like that that I believe can change the world.
I Am Joseph – Part 3
That day is crystal clear to me. She had sent word about a week ahead of time that she would soon be on her way, and I started to get excited. Sure, I wanted some answers about why she had left, but more than anything, I just wanted my wife back. It was a Friday that she came home. I remember because I had made a mental list of things that had to be done before sundown because sundown signaled the start of the Sabbath. I was going over the list in my mind as I approached my father’s house, and there she was. She was sitting on the gate of the house and I stopped in my tracks. I saw her before she saw me, so I just stood there for a moment.
I felt my chin start to shake and the tears form in my eyes. My tool belt slipped from my hands and fell to the ground and then she looked up and saw me. In that split second, I wondered what her reaction would be. Did she leave because of me? Did she not want me any more? But all of my doubts were soon gone, because when she saw me she grinned from ear to ear. We walked toward each other and then we embraced. I know, I know – it’s too far physically, but in that moment, I don’t think either one of us cared. And suddenly I knew that everything was going to be okay. I had so many questions to ask her, and I had so many things to tell her. I wanted to tell her how much I had missed her and how much I did love her. I wanted her to know that I never wanted her to leave again and I would always be there for her. I wanted to hold her and tell her that she could confide and trust in me. But before I could say any of those things, she pulled away from me.
That’s when I noticed it. She was looking down at the ground and the sun was at just the right angle for me to see the brightness in her face. She looked beautiful and yet somehow different. It wasn’t the girlish kind of beauty that I was first attracted to but a more mature – an older beauty that I now saw. I was 7 years older than she was and suddenly I felt like a child.
She said to me, “Joseph, I want to tell you the reason that I have been away. It is a wonderful reason, but it may be difficult for you to hear.” I wasn’t worried about what she would say. Not right then. So I assured her that she could tell me anything and that the important thing was that we were together again. And then she said 2 words that literally took my breath away: “I’m pregnant.”
I can’t describe what it felt like. My head felt dizzy. All the breath went out of me. I couldn’t process what she had just told me. She was pregnant? How could she be pregnant? Who was this person? This is not the Mary I thought I knew. How could she have been unfaithful to me? Then it all started to make sense – her father’s shame, her distancing herself from the situation, the lack of news. I felt like such a fool. And all the while she had the nerve to stand there smiling like this was a good thing.
Did she not understand what was happening? She was an adulteress! She had gone behind my back and ruined herself with another man. She had ruined everything – our life together, our future, her reputation, my reputation, my family’s reputation – what would our neighbors say? What would my father say? And still she smiled. I dropped her hands and started to back away. I said, “You’re what? How… how could you?” She wasn’t smiling any more. She started after me and said that if I would only give her a chance to explain – but I would hear none of that. I didn’t want to see her. I didn’t want to know her. These last few months had been nothing but a lie. All I wanted to do was to get as far away as possible from the situation, and so I did. I ran. I ran until my legs started to hurt and my stomach got a pain in the side. And after I stopped running, I started to cry. I felt angry – who was she to think that she could make a fool out of me? I felt betrayed – who was this other man who could not control himself? But most of all, I felt hurt. And ashamed.
I stayed out very late that night. When I finally came home my father was waiting for me. I thought about trying to hold it in, but I told him everything. He responded just like I knew he would. Father always raised us to respect the law. The law was what separated us from the other nations. The law is the means by which God blesses and curses. And on this point, the law was very clear – I had to divorce Mary. It was not even an option – in fact, most Jewish communities demanded a divorce in the case of adultery. To not divorce her would be illegal, not to mention compromising my own personal righteousness. I mean, think about it – if I married Mary, then it is as if I condone her actions. Not only that, but I will be branded as unclean for the rest of my life. She’s already going to carry that reputation around – why should I go down with her? It’s not my fault she got pregnant.
So, as father said, I basically had 2 options. I could either seek a public divorce or a private divorce. If I went public then Mary would be disgraced before the whole community, and technically, she could be stoned even though nobody really did that any more. And part of me really wanted that. Was that really so wrong after what she had done to me? Part of me wanted to see her have to explain her conduct in front of everyone. I wanted people to come up to me and shake my hand and congratulate me on my own purity.
But in the end I decided that the best thing to do was to divorce her quietly. I don’t know why I decided to do it; maybe it was because it would give Mary a chance in life if she moved out of Nazareth, maybe it was for the baby. Probably it was mostly because even though she had hurt me so badly I still didn’t want her to be mad at me. But whatever the reason, this option would allow me to maintain my personal righteousness and save Mary from so much humiliation.
Now I know what you’re thinking: is your own personal righteousness really that important? Maybe it should not be, but I’m just asking you to try and understand my culture for a minute. We live our whole lives based on honor and shame. If I didn’t have my honor, my own personal integrity, then I wouldn’t be able to shop in public. Some merchants wouldn’t sell their goods to me. Most people would refuse to buy the stuff that I make. Being shamed would affect every area of my life.
It just wasn’t worth it…
I Am Joseph – Part 2
I’m not exactly sure how marriage works in your culture, but in our culture, it is a year long process. At least. That in itself is not easy for an 18 year old. I mean, I have needs! But anyway, back to the marriage. There are two stages in a Jewish marriage and the first stage is the betrothal period. This begins when my father would go throughout the town and surrounding towns and find me a young girl, usually about 11 years old, who would be my wife. I remember the day that it all happened. I was outside in the shop working on a chair for some neighbors when my dad burst into the house.
“Joseph! Joseph!” he yelled. “I’ve found her! And son, you will love her. She is beautiful.” Well you can imagine my excitement, and my nervousness. I mean, I trust my dad, but you know – seeing is believing. As it turned out, she was from Nazareth, too, so later on that night I went out for a walk. Now I knew that I couldn’t be alone with her yet – heck, I really wasn’t even supposed to be in her presence yet, but I went out looking for her house anyway. I just wanted to see her. And so I crept around through the courtyard and eventually found her home and I waited there until I got one good look. I was not disappointed. She was beautiful. In fact, I must confess, all I could do when I saw her was to think back to the Song of Solomon – you know the parts I mean.
The next morning the marriage preparations were in full swing and about a week later we had our first ceremony. Now this was not the official marriage ceremony, it was more like a pre-nuptial ceremony. This would officially begin Mary and I’s life together. Even though after this ceremony we would be called “husband” and “wife”, we still couldn’t, you know, be together. In fact, the best we could do is spend a little time alone together at my dad’s house. I remember that day well – the rabbi was there and my dad gave the traditional gift of livestock to Mary’s family to unite our families. Her father gave us some money that we could use to start our family in about a year, and then it was time for me to give my gift to her. Through the giving of my gift, I would symbolize my commitment to our relationship. I didn’t know what to give to her. I thought about when my forefather Isaac gave expensive clothes and jewels to Rebekkah to begin their marriage. I sure couldn’t do that – I mean, who was I? Just the son of the local carpenter. So I did what I do best – I made her something. It was a little plaque to put over our doorposts that had the shema written on it, and I decorated it with some ornate wood on the sides and it looked pretty good. She seemed to like it anyway. I just wanted her to know that I was going to base our marriage on the law of the Lord from the very start.
And then it was done. We were married legally. In fact, at that point I had legal rights over Mary. The only way that our betrothal could be broken was by divorce, but you never think about that right after your marriage begins. For the first couple of weeks, things were great. Mary and I would spend time together almost every night. We would talk about our lives and our future. We would talk about the carpentry shop and how we might even someday try to save up enough money to open up a second store. Imagine me, Joseph, a chain! We were getting along so well so you can imagine my surprise when I decided to stop by her father’s house on the way to work one morning. Her father opened the door like he was surprised to see me. We exchanged pleasantries, but there was something wrong in his voice. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was like he almost felt ashamed. He wouldn’t look me in the eye and he acted very hurried in our conversation. And then he told me that Mary had left early that morning for her cousin’s house up in the hill country. I tried to get him to tell me why she left so quickly and without telling me herself, but I couldn’t get anything out of him. All he would tell me was that it was important for her to go away and that she would be gone for 3 months.
As he shut the door, I stood on the porch in disbelief. Was Mary sick? Was Elizabeth, her cousin, sick? What was going on? So there I was with nothing to do except wait. So I waited, and I waited. There was no news. Mary’s father stopped opening the door when I came to ask about her. No one in town knew anything. Everyday I would get up and go to the shop and try to concentrate on work, but how can you do that? My wife was somewhere in Judea, not sure exactly where and not sure exactly why. Three months is a long time. It was a long time of wondering and thinking, and of trying not to be angry. Those months are just kind of a blur now – work and home, work and home, work and home. Some days I was angry, some days I was hurt, but by the time it was over, all I could think of was how much I just wanted her to come home. And then she did…
I am Joseph – Part 1
You may or may not know that I have a 5-year-old son. His name in English is Joshua; the Greek translation is Jesus. Both of those sound pretty good, but I think I like best of all the sound of the original Hebrew name: Yeshua. Yeshua does pretty much the same things that all 5-year-olds do. He likes to run and jump and play. He makes silly noises that sound like bodily functions. He likes to be tickled. And I know that every father thinks that his kid is the best, but Yeshua really is. I’m just so proud of him – and I know that he is going to do great things in life.
Of course he is going to do great things in life – look who his mother is! I wish all of you could know my wife and what an extraordinary woman she is. She is beautiful and patient. She loves her God more than anyone I have ever known. She loves her family and is fiercely protective of them, and she is a wonderful mother. There’s so much that goes into having children, and she remarkably handles every piece of it.
And I never get over the fact that she loves me. She makes me feel important. She makes me feel important when we’re never going to be rich. I mean, I have an okay job, and I can put food on the table, but our life will never be extravagant. We will always live pretty much hand to mouth. And I’m not a really important person in the community and I never will be. But overall, I would say that we are a very happy family. I know that none of this sounds very extraordinary or amazing in any way, and to be honest, it’s not. It’s only amazing when you know the way that our family started.
What I have told you about us up to this point, many of you probably already know. Great wife, wonderful child, that’s all very clear just from observation. But what you may not know is that my wife was actually pregnant before we got married. Yeah, I know, you never would have guessed it looking at us, but it’s true. So now you know – we are not the perfectly righteous, completely obedient, wonderful Jewish couple that we appear to be. But I’m asking you to reserve judgment until you hear the whole story…
His Name Shall Be Called…
There she was. A 14-year-old girl, sitting – or maybe kneeling – face to face with an angel. And she had just heard the most incredible news. She was going to be a mom.
But she was confused. She knew the dynamics, birds and bees and whatnot. So she was right to ask, “How can this be?”
Then the words came back…
“You will be overshadowed by the Almighty…”
“God will be the Father…”
“The child will be called the Son of God…”
“And His name will be…”
Yes! The name! This was the great part. In her culture, the name was everything. It would be a symbol of the child’s essence, a one-word description of the essential nature of His character. So she held her breath a little bit, wondering what this miracle child would be called.
“His name will be… Jesus.”
Really? Jesus? It was a great name to be sure, and it had a great meaning – The Lord is Salvation. It was just a little, well, a little ordinary. Half the kids in Hebrew school would be named Jesus. It would be the equivalent of being named “John” or “Joe” in this century. It just felt… common.
Maybe it should be Maximus. Or just straight Caeser. Something regal. Something befitting a child of this magnitude. Not Joe.
But that’s how God works, isn’t it? Think about it – He infuses the ordinary with the extraordinary; the common with the uncommon. This child, who would not be extraordinarily tall, or handsome, or athletic, who would seem ordinary, is completely unique. And this child would be born into the most common of circumstances, a manger with everyday animals looking on, to completely ordinary parents, would redeem the world. Jesus comes into the ordinary and makes it extraordinary.
And He’s still doing it. He came into me, and into you, the most common of people, and made us uncommon. He made us children of God. And in this ordinary day in Nashville, He will enter in and make hundreds of common moments uncommon.
Jesus it is. The name fits.
"When Darkness Reigns"
That’s a scary thought, right? When darkness reigns?
That’s what Jesus said as He was being led off to trial and crucifixion. He chided the chief priests, officers of the temple guard, and the elders in Luke 22:
“Every day I was with you in the temple courts, and you did not lay a hand on me. But this is your hour—when darkness reigns.”
Is there anything more frightening than to hear the Son of God confess that this is the hour when darkness reigns? I don’t think so.
In fact, just reading the verse, you could easily look at it as an acknowledgment of defeat, as if Jesus was saying, “I tried my best to win, for light to shine. But despite my best efforts, I have been defeated. Darkness reigns.”
How hopeless. How utterly demoralizing in every sense to hear our champion, with His head hanging low, admit that He is going down.
“Darkness reigns.”
And yet, just a few verses before this, we find the bigger truth at play here. Peter took out his sword and started swiping at people’s ears, when Jesus called him down. Essentially, in this moment where Peter was trying so hard to not let darkness reign, Jesus said, “Really, Peter? Do you honestly think you can stop this? You can’t, but it’s not because I’m overcome. It’s because I have chosen for it to be this way. I could have a host of angels here in a microsecond.”
That’s important. It’s important because it means that even though all things point to the fact that darkness reigns, it only “reigns” at the divine, sovereign permission of Jesus. It reigns because He let it reign.
And He let it reign because of the bigger truth of redemption at work. God was not overcome that moment in the garden. Oh, the light of good might have seemed dim, but God was simply trimming the wick. In just a matter of hours, its light would shine forth like the dawn – the dawn of a Sunday morning – and chase away the haughty darkness that was so sure of its triumph.
There have been time in our lives when darkness seems to reign. We look for the light and there doesn’t seem to be any. But in those moments, God is just trimming the wick. And the light will shine forth like the dawn.
Hold on. Morning is coming.
"Walking," Not "Doing" Good Works
Most of us know Ephesians 2:8-10. Here it is in the NIV:
8For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 9not by works, so that no one can boast. 10For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Interesting, though, that if you literally translate verse 10, you get that we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to walk in.
Not “do.”
“Walk in.”
Now clearly the translators of the NIV didn’t see a huge difference here, so I’m a little nervous to argue about it, but I do think there is a reason why Paul chose the phrase “walk in” rather than just “do.”
Perhaps it’s because walking in good works feels a lot more natural than doing good works. In the same way that we are not just to do loving things but “be” loving, or we are not just to go on mission but to “be” missional, we aren’t supposed to do good things. We are to walk in good, everywhere we go, whatever we do.
When you walk in good, it’s a lifestyle rather than a series of isolated acts.
And wouldn’t that be nice? That you wouldn’t have to force yourself to do good things like reading the Bible, helping the poor, or sharing the gospel? But the truth is that most of us do have to discipline ourselves to do those things.
This is the paradoxical nature of doing good works. If you want to naturally do good, it begins by choosing to do good. The way you begin to love reading Scripture is by making yourself read Scripture. The way you begin to naturally pray is by making yourself pray. It begins unnaturally, and then after that does it grow more natural.
But there’s another ironic thing in the story here, too – despite the fact that at the beginning these things feel forced, they are the most natural thing in the world for us to do. Christ has made us new people in the gospel, and those new people want and desire to walk in good. It’s who we are in Him.
We just have to remind ourselves over and over again.
Wait, Hope, and Trust
Isaiah 40:31 is a pretty well known verse. It reads in the NIV like this:
But those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
It’s interesting to me, though, that the word “hope” is translated in a number of different ways in different translations. The NAS renders the same word as “wait.” The HCSB uses “trust.” In English, those 3 words have very different meanings.
“Waiting” is something that you have to do as part of life. It’s not necessarily active. In fact, it’s downright boring—a necessary evil between where you were and where you wait to be.
“Hoping” and “trusting” are much more active words in English, and have a much different connotation. While you may “wait” for a cheeseburger, you “hope” because you “trust” that something better is coming than the situation which you are currently facing.
It’s true that both “trusting” and “hoping” are associated with waiting by necessity. If you didn’t have to wait for anything, you wouldn’t really be hoping or trusting in anything, because you would have everything you need and want right when you need and want it.
But for the Christ-follower, waiting, hoping, and trusting are linked together by more than necessity. They’re linked together because we don’t wait like other people wait. We wait actively. We wait with expectation.
It’s not waiting for our incomes to go up. It’s not waiting for the disease to go away. It’s not waiting for things to get “better,” as some understand what is better. But it is waiting for the Lord to do what He has promised to do in any and all circumstances:
Good.
That’s what He’s promised to do. Good in us, and good through us. When we wait, we have our heads on a swivel, constantly looking for the myriad of little and big ways in which the redemption of the Lord comes over and over again.
Taking Purah
The story of Gideon reads like a roller-coaster. First, he’s afraid of everything, hiding in a winepress. Then he gets a call from God to lead Israel’s army, but he puts God to the test by throwing out some fleeces and asking them to be both wet and dry. Then when he’s got the assurance he needed, God dwindles down his army from 32,000 to 10,000 and then to 300.
300!
And those 300 were facing a Midianite army that were “like locusts.” And that those locust-like numbers had “camels more than the sand on the seashore.”
Up. Down. Up. Down. I can imagine Gideon getting sea sick. Then God told him this:
“Get up, go down against the camp, because I am going to give it into your hands. If you are afraid to attack, go down to the camp with your servant Purah and listen to what they are saying. Afterward, you will be encouraged to attack the camp” (Judges 7:9-11).
When the two men got there, they overheard a conversation where one enemy soldier told another one about a dream he had. The other responded that the dream meant without a doubt that Gideon (yes, he mentioned Gideon by name) and his army were going to come and rout them. Gideon must have been dumbstruck. Talk about a confidence-booster!
But here’s the question: Why did God tell him to take Purah with him down into the camp?
Maybe it was to carry his sword. Or a canteen. Or to keep Gideon from running away. Or maybe just for company.
Or maybe God told Gideon to take Purah because of our tendency to forget, or doubt, the things we hear.
Let’s face it – we have heard some pretty unbelievable stuff:
“There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”
“He who knew no sin became sin for us so that we might become the righteousness of God.”
“The Lord rejoices over you with singing.”
“What manner of love is this that we should be called the children of God?”
And then there are those things that are equally powerful but for a different reason:
“Pray continually.”
“Blessed are the poor.”
“Flee from sexual immorality.”
“Woe to you when all men speak well of you.”
We are forgetful and doubting people. Sometimes because what we hear is too good to be true; sometimes because it would be easier to forget what we heard. That’s why we need Purah – someone in our lives who has heard the same things we do, and in those moments when we doubt or forget, can stand beside us to remind us of the word of the Lord.
Today is Yom Kippur
From the Resurgence blog, a good summation of very important day:
Yom Kippur is also known as the Day of Atonement, which is the climax of the Old Testament sacrificial system and is the most solemn day on the Jewish calendar. It was a day of great bloodshed and a day on which the gravity of humanity’s sin could be seen visibly. Because of its importance, it eventually became referred to simply as “the Day.”
The Center of the Pentateuch
The primary section in Scripture concerning the Day of Atonement appears in Leviticus 16-17. This passage functions as the center of the book of Leviticus, which is itself the center of the Pentateuch. This day speaks of the Lord’s gracious concern both to deal fully with his people’s sin and to make them fully aware that they stand before him, accepted and covered in respect of all iniquity, transgression, and sin (Lev 16:21).
On this day, the high priest would enter the Holy of Holies to atone for the sins of Israel in order to avert the holy wrath of God for the sins of the past year and to remove their sin and its stain from them. Two healthy goats without defect were chosen. They were therefore fit to represent sinless perfection.
Two Images of the Atonement
The first goat was a propitiating sin offering. The high priest slaughtered this goat, which acted as a substitute for the sinners who deserved a violently bloody death for their many sins.
Then the high priest, acting as the representative and mediator between the sinful people and their holy God, would take the second goat and lay his hands on the animal while confessing the sins of the people. This goat, called the scapegoat, would then be sent away to die in the wilderness away from the sinners, symbolically expiating or removing the sins of the people by taking them away.
The sacrifices of the Day were designed to pay for both sin’s penalty and sin’s presence in Israel. The shedding of blood and the sending off of the scapegoat were meant to appease God’s wrath against sin and to cleanse the nation, the priesthood, and even the sanctuary itself from the taint of sin (Lev 16:30).
The Lamb of God
The Day of Atonement was a foreshadowing of Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world, and our great High Priest who is able to sympathize with us in our weakness. These great images of the priest, slaughter, and scapegoat are all given by God to help us more fully comprehend Jesus’ bloody sacrifice for us on the cross.
Jesus’ fulfillment of the Day of Atonement is why we are forgiven for and cleansed from our sins. To preach anything else is to proclaim a “different gospel,” which is no gospel at all (Gal 1:6-7). Spurgeon drives this point home: “Many pretend to keep the atonement, and yet they tear the bowels out of it. They profess to believe in the gospel, but it is a gospel without the blood of the atonement; and a bloodless gospel is a lifeless gospel, a dead gospel, and a damning gospel” (Sermon 1667).
Jesus Christ fulfills and accomplishes forever what the two goats symbolized. The Old Testament sacrifice of animals has been replaced by the perfect sacrifice of Christ (Heb 9:26, 10:5:10; 1 John 2:1-2 and4:9-10). Christ paid sin’s penalty (Rom 3:25-26 and 6:23; Gal 3:13). He redeemed us (Eph 1:7), paying the price that sets us free (1 Cor 6:20;Gal 5:1). He turned away God’s wrath (Rom 3:25) and reconciled believers to God (Eph 2:16) so we can be forgiven for our sins and cleansed from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9).