Why Did Jesus Have to Die?

 Asking questions

Years ago, a young child asked me, “Why did Jesus have to die?” Of course I gave him a simple answer, “So that we can be in heaven with Him one day.”

How many of us, of all ages, still ask that question: Why did Jesus have to die?

What kind of simple answers do Christians usually provide? Because death is the penalty for sin. (Why? Couldn’t God have chosen a different penalty?) Because God demands a sacrifice to cover our sins. (Why? Couldn’t He have provided a different cover?) Because sin separates us from God, and the only way back to Him is by paying a great price. (Why? Couldn’t He have come up with a different way back?)

Why did God set it up this way? He’s God. He can do anything He wants to do. He has a power and creativity and intelligence far beyond my wildest imagining. He can come up with the most brilliant plans, devise the most intricate systems, all in the blink of an eye. He spoke and the entire universe came into being. Did He really have to choose a painful, humiliating, bloody way to bring us back into fellowship with Him?

I don’t know. Maybe He could have chosen another option. But the fact that He didn’t tells me some things about this God who has revealed Himself to us in the Bible.

Seeing some answers

It tells me that sin is very, very serious in His eyes.

When I first heard the gospel, I was appalled by the idea that I wasn’t good enough to go to heaven. As far as behavior went, I was better than most of my friends, who were beginning to experiment with sex and drugs and alcohol. When it came to character, I knew that I cared about others more deeply than most people do. I was kinder, more sympathetic, more understanding. Why wouldn’t God be proud to have me by His side? How could He possibly reject me?

It took about a year of hearing the gospel over and over again before I finally reached the point where I could see my sin as being bad enough to prevent God from accepting me into His family just the way I was. The good news of Jesus’ sacrifice for my sake eventually broke through my pride and convinced me of how serious sin is in His eyes. Even my relatively minor sins.

The painful, humiliating, bloody manner of His death emphasizes it even more. Many people today consider it a virtue to disdain any form of brute violence. They seek to overturn the death penalty. They want to bring an end to all wars. They speak up for the weak and the vulnerable (other than babies in the womb).

They reject the very idea that God would be so coarse, so inhumane as to condone or even orchestrate the death of His own Son. If they claim to be Christians, they see Jesus as an unfortunate martyr, not as a necessary sacrifice. They place their own sense of morality above that of a God who would demand the shedding of blood to satisfy His requirements. (My point here is not that their actions in opposing violence and oppression are wrong, but that they consider themselves superior to God.)

But if Jesus really did die to make atonement for our sins (as orthodox Christians have always believed) does that imply that God enjoyed the process? Or that He stood back stoically and felt nothing during the hours that His Son hung on the cross? No. It’s the very pain and revulsion that God Himself experienced that tells me how serious sin is in His eyes. No lesser price could convey that message.

It also tells me how precious His creation is to Him. He went to the greatest lengths possible to redeem this fallen world. Jesus, God the Son, gave His all for our sakes. We evangelicals tend to focus on the cross as the moment of Jesus’ suffering. But, as I wrote in an earlier post, Jesus suffered from the instant of His conception in Mary’s womb. Compared to His life in heaven, He was constantly being bombarded by distressful sensations and situations long before that first Good Friday.

And then He gave even more—He sacrificed His life in a brutal, painful, lengthy act of dying. And it wasn’t just His physical death that hurt so much. It was also His separation from His Father (Matthew 27:46) and His bearing the guilt for all the sins of all the people in all the world for all time (Hebrews 7:27).

What if God had chosen an easier way out? What if He had been able to devise an equally acceptable means of covering my sins? What would that tell me about the depth of His love for me? Who loves me more—the man who pledges “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health,” meaning that he’s committed to building a strong marriage regardless of circumstances, or the one who says that if it doesn’t work out we can always get a divorce? The one who promises to give his all or the one who intentionally holds something back?

Jesus’ death tells me that God’s creation is so precious to Him that He was willing to suffer through the greatest possible sacrifice to redeem us. It also tells me that He desires a deep and lasting relationship with us. Which of the two men in the previous paragraph will I respect and value more? Which one will I be more willing to give my heart to in gratitude and adoration? Which one will I trust with my hidden thoughts and feelings? The richest relationships are based on the type of love that God demonstrated on the cross. That’s the kind of relationship that He wants to have with every one of us.

Experiencing the greatest relationship

Jesus’ death wasn’t the end of the story. His relationship with His disciples wasn’t over at that point. It got even better. Easter Sunday followed soon after Good Friday.

I’ve heard the story so many times that it’s hard to fully appreciate the intensity of the joy and wonder that His followers experienced when they encountered the risen Messiah. They had left everything for His sake. They knew He was the Son of God. But they’d seen Him crucified, dead, and buried.

And then, suddenly, there He was, alive again. More alive than He’d been before His death. Forgiving their fears and doubts and betrayals. No longer limited by time and space, as He had been before the crucifixion. And with Pentecost it got even better again. Through the Holy Spirit, He was present with every one of them at every moment in every circumstance. Guiding, loving, comforting, sharing their joys and their sorrows. A relationship beyond anything that they’d ever imagined.

Did Jesus have to die? Or was it a sovereign, gracious, exquisitely compassionate choice freely made by the God who takes sin very seriously, who loves His creation beyond all measure, and who desires to have an intimate relationship with every human being that He’s brought to life in this world?

Dirty

 Staying clean

Two truths that I’m seeing during this coronavirus pandemic:

1. I can never be completely clean. (Or at least not for long.)

2. That just might be a good thing.

I get up in the morning, go to the bathroom, wash my hands. Get dressed, put on my shoes. My hands are obviously dirty again. Better wash them a second time.

Just making my way to the kitchen and preparing breakfast requires contacting many surfaces that could be harboring germs. Do I have to wash or use sanitizer every time I touch something? A year ago, when the experts were talking about flattening the curve, that seemed to be the implication. But my skin would shrivel and crack if I tried to stay completely clean all the time.

Spiritually, can I ever be one hundred percent clean? As in the physical realm, not for long, if at all. My spirit is always being exposed to the world, the flesh, and the devil. The dirt rubs off on me even if it doesn’t make me sick.

It reminds me of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet in John 13:1-11. He describes those who believe in Him as already having had a bath. All they need after that is to have their feet cleaned. But aren’t their arms and legs and faces dirty, too? And He only washed their feet once. Don’t we need it more often than that? I find it encouraging that He addresses both the necessity and the limits of our need for cleansing.

I try to make it a practice to confess and repent when I know I’ve sinned, but I can go to one of two extremes. I can get so hung up on my dirtiness and my need to seek out and confess every little detail of every little sin that I miss God’s calling to forget my self and reach out to others. And I miss the opportunity to turn my thoughts to His grace and power and love and glory in selfless worship.

Or I can call to mind the Bible verses that tell me how He’s forgiven and forgotten all my sin for all time, and ignore the ones that remind me of my need to confess and repent. In Jesus’ analogy, I’ve had my bath. Because I’m covered by the Son’s blood, the Father always sees me as clean. Isn’t that enough? No. Sometimes I need to have my feet washed. Not for my salvation, but to keep my relationship with God as intimate as it can be. I need to go to Him in humble repentance and acknowledge my sin. I need to stay as clean as I can.

Building immunity

But some dirt will still cling to me most of the time. Because of that, God in His wisdom created a world in which everything works together to sustain life as we know it. Including death. Including germs.

Limited exposure to germs builds immunity. Vaccines are made from the viruses that they protect us against. A few years after antibacterial hand soaps became popular, many doctors discouraged their regular use by healthy people. They argued that we need some bacteria in our lives to maintain a robust immune response.

I once read a magazine article about the polio epidemic of the mid-twentieth century. The doctor who wrote it said that the reason polio suddenly became a problem was because parents were keeping their children too clean. Anyone under two years old who’s exposed to polio develops a natural immunity. Older children and adults are more prone to contracting the disease once they come into contact with it. As American homes became more and more sanitized, no natural exposure was occurring before the age of two. The result was lower immunity and greater suffering.

What about in the spiritual world? Do I need exposure to temptation? Can I benefit from the dirt that rubs off on me from the world, the flesh, and the devil? My natural tendency is to say “No! Temptation is bad. I need to avoid or prevent as much exposure as possible.” Stay in my bubble. Hang out with Christian friends. Read books by Christian authors. Listen to Christian music. Watch Christian videos.

But if I’m honest with myself, I realize that each time I resist a little temptation I grow stronger,  more capable of resisting a bigger temptation. Sooner or later that big temptation will come. Will I be ready to resist it if I haven’t faced and defeated those little temptations? I also grow closer to God every time I rely on His Holy Spirit for the strength to overcome.

Jesus’ example

Did Jesus Himself experience this type of growth? The Bible says that He was made perfect through suffering (Hebrews 2:10), that His suffering included facing temptation (Hebrews 2:18), and that He learned obedience from what He suffered (Hebrews 5:8). I have a hard time wrapping my mind around this whole idea of Jesus—God—learning and growing, especially by means of the evils of temptation and suffering. I don’t hear a lot of teaching about this experience of His. But it’s a powerful example of how God brings good (strength) out of evil (temptation).

If Jesus could learn and grow as He was tempted, maybe it’s best for me to get out of my Christian comfort zone and allow myself to be exposed to the dirt of the world. How can I mature in my faith if I never face the challenges out there? (And how can I be a witness to those who need to hear the Good News if I stay huddled in my own little corner?)

Of course there has to be a balance. I have to follow the teaching of Scripture and the leading of the Holy Spirit to find that balance. I need to be out in the world getting my feet dirty and building my immunity, but I don’t need to take a mud bath.