Halfway through the exercise, a thought ran through my mind over and over again: “I don’t need this. Why am I doing this to myself? I hate this. I’m done.” And on that day, I gave in to the inner voice and quit.
I hate pain. It’s the reason I don’t exercise as often as I should and why I didn’t finish my routine that day. But I know that pushing through pain and discomfort has been essential most of the good things I’ve experienced in life, not just physical fitness.
The good life isn’t the easy life.
But for some reason, the view of God our culture perpetuates is of a Santa Claus who only hands out presents and puts no coal in stockings. And I get sucked into that view so easily. Because of this, I am caught off guard by difficulties in my life. Even though I know the easy life is a myth and not a healthy one, I keep expecting God to give me an easy, pain-free life. Thankfully (I think), he’s got something better in mind.
The Exodus took the Hebrews out of slavery, but it did so by taking them through the piled up waters of the Red Sea and then into the wilderness. It was a good road, but it wasn’t an easy road.
READ
As Jesus leads the people of God on a new Exodus, he goes through one of his own. He goes through the waters like the Hebrews went through the Red Sea and he spends 40 days in the wilderness like the 40 years the Hebrews spent in the wilderness.
At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son,whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”
At once the Spirit sent him out into the wilderness, and he was in the wilderness forty days, being tempted by Satan. He was with the wild animals, and angels attended him (Mark 1:9-13).
But where Israel was a rebellious “son of God,” engaging in ten rebellions against God — one to match each of the plagues and each of the Ten Commandments — Jesus is the beloved and pleasing Son of the Father.
Rikk Watts (in Isaiah’s New Exodus in Mark) suggests that this passage leans heavily on Isaiah 63-64, where Israel goes through the waters as God acts as a good Father to them. Nowhere else in the New Testament do we have the Spirit rending of the skies, which intentionally echoes Is. 64:1. I repeat the passage at length here, noting the flow in brackets and highlighting key phrases that tie it to Mark 1.
I will tell of the kindnesses of the LORD,
the deeds for which he is to be praised,
according to all the LORD has done for us —
yes, the many good things
he has done for Israel,
according to his compassion and many kindnesses.
[A recounting of the Exodus from Egypt]
He said, “Surely they are my people,
children who will be true to me”;
and so he became their Savior.
In all their distress he too was distressed,
and the angel of his presence saved them.
In his love and mercy he redeemed them;
he lifted them up and carried them
all the days of old.
[Rebelling: not just in the desert but throughout Israel’s history]
Yet they rebelled
and grieved his Holy Spirit.
So he turned and became their enemy
and he himself fought against them.
[Looking back to the first Exodus]
Then his people recalled the days of old,
the days of Moses and his people —
where is he who brought them through the sea,
with the shepherd of his flock?
Where is he who set
his Holy Spirit among them,
who sent his glorious arm of power
to be at Moses’ right hand,
who divided the waters before them,
to gain for himself everlasting renown,
who led them through the depths?
Like a horse in open country,
they did not stumble;
like cattle that go down to the plain,
they were given rest by the Spirit of the LORD.
[Desiring for that kind of salvation to be repeated]
This is how you guided your people
to make for yourself a glorious name.
Look down from heaven and see,
from your lofty throne, holy and glorious.
Where are your zeal and your might?
Your tenderness and compassion are withheld from us.
But you are our Father,
though Abraham does not know us
or Israel acknowledge us;
you, LORD, are our Father,
our Redeemer from of old is your name.
Why, LORD, do you make us wander from your ways
and harden our hearts so we do not revere you?
Return for the sake of your servants,
the tribes that are your inheritance.
For a little while your people possessed your holy place,
but now our enemies have trampled down your sanctuary.
We are yours from of old;
but you have not ruled over them,
they have not been called by your name.
[Asking for a new Exodus that will require God to “come down”]
Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down,
that the mountains would tremble before you!
As when fire sets twigs ablaze
and causes water to boil,
come down to make your name known to your enemies
and cause the nations to quake before you!
For when you did awesome things that we did not expect,
you came down, and the mountains trembled before you.
Since ancient times no one has heard,
no ear has perceived,
no eye has seen any God besides you,
who acts on behalf of those who wait for him. …
Yet you, LORD, are our Father (Is. 63:7-19, 64:1-4, 8).
The Isaiah passage is filled with tension. Yahweh loves his people, expressing kindness and compassion to them. He’s distressed when they’re distressed during their Egyptian slavery. And yet, they rebel and grieve the Holy Spirit, leading to the Exile in Babylon (which is the context for Isaiah 63). But then, in that Exile, they look back to the one who delivered them through the waters and wonder where he is now. They yearn for him to return to them, to be their Father, to show them that compassion and kindness again. They long for him to split the sky and come down, to be with them as their Savior.
So, what we have in Mark is Jesus going through the waters and the wilderness as the true Israel of God, the true Son of God. And we have this trinitarian moment, where God splits the sky and comes down. In a way, it’s Yahweh who comes down, as Isaiah 64 requested. But it’s the Spirit who comes down like a dove. And yet, it’s really Jesus who has come down.
Mark hasn’t spelled this out yet, but he’s showing us that Jesus is representing humanity to God and God to humanity all at the same time, something he’ll do again on the cross.
ENGAGE
The Father says he loves the Son and then sends him into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan. How does that confront our “nice” view of love? How might sending Jesus into the desert have been an expression of the Father’s love for the Son? How might your desert times of life be expressions of God’s love for you?
The Father loves the Son and makes that clear by what he says. There is a security in this relationship which will enable Jesus to endure un-love from others as Mark continues. How secure are you in your parents’ love for you? In God’s love for you? What conflict/difficulty in front of you might be faced with less anxiety by living out of that security?
As the Isaiah passage shows, the God who saves is also the God who judges. In fact, salvation is an aspect of judgment — what’s wrong has to be identified before it can be dealt with. We don’t like that. We want all smiles and no frowns. But God seems to be fine with allowing us to suffer as part of his disciplining of us. How does this challenge your view of God? How might this help make sense of your suffering?
PRAY
Father, I love how you love Jesus. Thank you for letting me in on that love which you have shared throughout eternity. Thank you for tearing open the skies and coming down. We need you with us right now. I need you. And help me, in the meantime, to accept the sorrows that lead to your salvation. In Jesus. Amen.
LIVE
If the Father expresses his love of the Son and then sends him immediately to experience temptation in the wilderness, we ought to expect the same. Take time to write out a brief sketch of the trials and temptations you’re currently experiencing. Then pray over them, asking God to help you see how he is loving you in them. And ask for his angels to attend to you as they did to Jesus.