Part II Doctrine
XII. MAN’S NEED OF A REDEEMER
deeply than he knew. The peculiar poignance of this passage, apart from its intrinsic excellence as religious poetry, arises from the fact that it is reported to have provided the text of our Lord’s first sermon, when He arose in the synagogue at Nazareth and proclaimed that God’s
redemption was no longer merely a future hope, hut was within men’s grasp as a present reality (Luke 4:16—21).
the Davidic Empire and the degradation of his dynasty the words were hopefully transferred to that figure of the future who would one day arise as "a star out of Jacob" (v. ‘7) and deliver Israel from bondage. It is known that this passage sustained the Jews during some of the darkest days of their later history.
Israel’s hymns, also, naturally gave expression to the messianic faith, though here again we meet with the phenomenon of songs originally composed to glorify a contemporary, secular ruler being adapted in later days to celebrate the power and dignity of the future Redeemer. Psalm 2, one of the most frequently quoted of the so-called messianic psalms, is a good example of the way in which older materials were re-used in this way. Composed to celebrate the coronation of a new ruler by the promise of victory over all who attempted to oppose him, it was later used, somewhat incongruously, to prophesy the purely spiritual victories of the Messiah (as in Acts 13:33).
A more attractive picture, both of the reigning monarch and the future Deliverer, is found in Psalm 72, where the function of a king is said to be that of establishing peace and prosperity for his people and of
bringing justice to the oppressed. It is strange that this pleasing portrait is nowhere quoted in the New Testament as a prophecy of the Christ.
In our previous study we have already examined most of the original specifically messianic passages of the Old Testament (such as Isa. 11 and 33:17ff). We need add to our list here only Micah 5:2, which declares that the Redeemer will, like David, come from Bethlehem and will be a member of the age-old Davidic family.
The image of the king, however, is not the only one under which men conceived the figure of the future Redeemer. Two others are especially important, since they show how varied the portrait might be. One is that of the suffering servant, an entirely non-royal figure who, as we have already seen, is found in certain passages of Second Isaiah, such as 42:1—4. Here the Deliverer—perhaps originally merely the nation of Israel—is represented as a gentle, kindly and courageous prophet. (Isa.
52:13—53:12 is, of course, the classic passage dealing with the Servant.)
The third image is that found in a mysterious chapter of the Book of Daniel (7:9—14) which tells how, in the latter days, God will judge the earth (v. 9f) and destroy the kingdom of evil (11f). At the end, it is said,
there will come "one like the Son of Man" (meaning "one like a human being") who will establish an eternal and indestructible kingdom of righteousness (13f). Whatever the author of this difficult passage may have had in mind (and the reader must be referred to the commentaries for more detailed discussion), his later readers took it to be another portrait of the coming Redeemer. This interpretation forms the background for understanding the frequent references to the "Son of Man" in the New Testament (e.g. Mark 14:62).
Finally, in Matthew 2:1—11, we read a story which, in dramatic language, pictures men of various nations as eagerly awaiting the coming of a personal Redeemer. The Gentiles are represented as
watching for his sign in the heavens; the Jews, as searching their sacred books. This is an accurate picture of a large part of the world in the days of Jesus, when multitudes of both Jews and Gentiles were searching anxiously for some kind of personal saviour and for a religion which promised redemption from the futility of ordinary human existence.
Men are still, though often unconsciously, seeking a redeemer of this kind— one of their own flesh and blood who can give them God’s peace and restore meaning and value to their apparently purposeless lives. The Bible tells us that such hope is not vain and foolish—that God has
promised a Redeemer and that, indeed, he has already come.
XIII. JESUS THE FULFILLMENT OF MAN’S NEED Isaiah 35:3—10; Matthew 11:2—6; John 4:25—29, 39—42;
Matthew 26:63—68; Acts 18:5; John 20:30—3!;
Ephesians 2:11—22; 1 John 5:1—5
Central to the developed faith of the Old Testament is the assurance that a Redeemer would come and the Kingdom of God be established among men; central to the New Testament faith is the certainty that the
Redeemer has already come and the Kingdom of God has begun to take visible shape in his person and his works. In dealing with this theme we shall naturally be concerned chiefly with passages from the New
Testament rather than the Old, but it will he well to begin by looking at one Old Testament passage, both because it will remind us of the
intensity of Israel’s hope and because there is a reflection of this
particular passage in the first of our readings from the New Testament.
This passage (Isa. 35:3—10), probably from Second Isaiah, is especially attractive because it lays less stress upon the triumph of Israel as a
nation than upon God’s care for the sick and unfortunate. Although there is no specific mention of the Messiah, the picture is, in the broad sense of the term, a sketch of the glories of the Messianic age, when order will be restored to a disordered world and its present miseries finally abolished. There will be courage for the faint-hearted, joy for the disconsolate and healing for those who are sick in mind or body.
For those who knew Jesus in his earthly ministry such things provided the chief evidence that he was indeed the expected Redeemer. So we read in Matthew 11:2—6 that when John the Baptist, who preached the nearness of the Kingdom of God, was imprisoned for castigating the morals of the royal household, he sent two of his followers to see if Jesus was really the Messiah or only another preacher like himself. The answer was given in terms of the Old Testament passage we have just been reading. They could see for themselves that Jesus’ main concern was with the weak and helpless and that he had power both to bring healing to the sick and good cheer to the discouraged. The extent of this power was the surest proof that he was in fact the one "that should come."
The story of the long conversation Jesus is related to have had with the Samaritan woman is intended to typify the way in which the Redeemer was desired and accepted even outside the borders of Judaism. The Samaritans, of course, shared the Messianic faith of ancient Israel, but they were not Jews and could represent, in the mind of the evangelist, the larger, non-Jewish, world, which was also in need of redemption. It, too, was awaiting the arrival of him "that should come." The emphasis in the story is not upon the mighty works of Jesus, but upon his insight into the human heart and his ability to satisfy the deepest needs of man’s spirit (John 4:25—29). The more intimately men came to know him the more certain they were that he was indeed the Saviour of the world (39—42).
For the most part Jesus was content to let men draw their own
conclusions with regard to his character and mission, but when he was brought before the high priest and challenged directly to state his claims he at last spoke so unambiguously that his condemnation and death came as an immediate consequence (Matt. 26:63—68). It seemed for a
moment as though the forces of chaos and evil had defeated God’s plan, but the events of Easter and Ascension Day showed that ultimate victory belonged to the Messiah and his Kingdom.
The Christian Church was built upon the simplest of creeds: Jesus of Nazareth is the Christ, the long-expected Redeemer of mankind. This was the chief burden of early Christian missionary preaching, as we see from such a passage as Acts 18:5; this is also the theme of our present written Gospels, as is evident from the original conclusion to the Gospel of John (20:30f).
The Church was not content however, to live with this bare statement of the essence of its faith. Christian thinkers soon began to meditate upon the significance of the great new truth in which they believed and to draw out its implications. Centuries later Christians would start dividing all time into two great periods, B.C. and A.D., illustrating their belief that the birth of Jesus was the chief turning point in the history of the world. In New Testament times they had not yet begun to do this, but already St. Paul saw in Christ’s coming the climactic point of the human drama—"the fulness of the time" (Gal. 4:4)—and either he or one of his disciples pictured in rhapsodic language how the advent of Christ had restored the broken unity of the human race (Eph. 2:11—22) and
introduced a new element into man’s understanding of history and time.
"in time past" (v. 11) the Gentiles had lived without hope, aliens and strangers (12), but "now" (vv. 13, 19) in Christ their alienation was ended; the wall of partition was taken down and the way of peace and free approach to God was open to everyone alike (17f).
There were others, like the author of I John 5:1—5, who were concerned not so much with picturing the vast, majestic sweep of history rising to its climax in the coming of Christ as with showing the effect of his coming on individual human lives. To have faith in Christ, as the Son of God, he says, makes men also sons of God (v. 1) and this sonship comes to full expression in a life filled with love toward men (2) and God (3) and in giving its possessor a sense of personal participation in Christ’s triumph over the evils of the world (4, 5).