Now it was the custom at the Feast to release a prisoner whom the people requested. A man called Barabbas was in prison with the insurrectionists who had committed murder in the uprising. The crowd came up and asked Pilate to do for them what he usually did. “Do you want me to release to you the king of the Jews?” asked Pilate, knowing it was out of envy that the chief priests had handed Jesus over to him. But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have Pilate release Barabbas instead.

Lots of speculative energy has been expended wondering who Barabbas was, and what became of him after he was released. But the fact is that we have no reason to think that he did anything other than remain a violent political rebel.

What’s often missed in the Barabbas story is the supreme irony behind his deliverance from death. Barabbas was a Zealot, a party that rejected the Romans, and kept revolt simmering throughout the time of the Roman occupation. On several occasions the revolt boiled up into open, armed resistance. Barabbas was part of a small occurrence. Later, in 66 AD and again in 133 AD, there were full scale wars, both times resulting in Rome conquering and destroying Jerusalem (in 70 AD and 135 AD).

But who was working to free this rebel? The chief priests, the very leaders of those who collaborated with Rome! The top priestly positions were appointed by the Roman governor at this time—they weren’t descended from Aaron. Only men very loyal to Rome were even considered. These men were terrified that Rome would “take away both our place and our nation” (John 11:48). That is, their personal place, and the nominal status Judea enjoyed as a “nation” with some degree of self-rule. The biggest threat to them was the Zealots, whose revolts invited Rome to exercise tighter direct control. Yet it was these very men who worked mightily to free a convicted insurrectionist!

This is a very telling measure of their desperation to be rid of Jesus. In Jesus they saw an even greater threat. And of course, they were right. The entire religious structure of the chief priests had no relevance for the disciples of Jesus Christ. The disciples themselves didn’t understand this yet, but these shrewd, powerful political operators saw it.

There is a personal lesson we can draw from this. We might think of Barabbas as representing the rebellion in us all. Sometimes we get our priorities upside down and, like the chief priests, we strive to let loose that lawlessness. But what does it cost? It condemns the Son of God. (see Hebrews 6:4-7) We never want to be in that position!
 

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

In this same letter, Paul tells us about the experiences he calls “light momentary affliction”:

• In chapter 1 he describes his recent experience in Ephesus this way: “For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.” (1:8-9)
• And in chapter 11, he catalogs what he’s gone through during the previous few years: “Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure.” (11:24-27)

There are times when the Word of God shouts, times when it whispers. The tone can be pleading, threatening, matter-of-fact, poignant, ironic. It these few verses from chapter 4, it is utterly eloquent.

How do you describe the glory that is to be ours? As Paul says, it is “beyond all comparison”. We can’t get our minds around it. But Paul is able to convey a sense of its greatness, by setting it alongside his suffering. Seen side-by-side next to the glory, the constant deprivation and threats of imminent death are “slight momentary afflictions”. Being stoned or flogged is essentially equal to getting a splinter, he says—if you step back and look at the immense mass of the glory that is to be ours.

How many of Paul’s readers over the centuries have been immediately conscious of “the outer self wasting away”? Disease and age will certainly do us all in, if trauma doesn’t get us first. One of Paul’s major themes in 2 Corinthians is “comfort”. He doesn’t use the word here, but there is no more eloquent expression of comfort in the Bible. No one could say that Paul didn’t know what pain was, what loss was, what ongoing infirmity was. But it’s all over in a moment, Paul says. Whereas the glory will last forever! Hang on, he exhorts us. Rest easy—the glory is on its way.

Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,
    only a day for a man to humble himself?
Is it only for bowing one’s head like a reed
    and for lying on sackcloth and ashes?
Is that what you call a fast,
    a day acceptable to the LORD?
Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
    to loose the chains of injustice
    and untie the cords of the yoke,
    to set the oppressed free
    and break every yoke?
Is it not to share your food with the hungry
    and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
    when you see the naked, to clothe him,
    and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?

In the Old Testament, we read about people fasting (that is, not eating for a period of time.) They did so in mourning, or in devotion while they gave themselves to prayer.

In the New Testament, we find that the Jews of Jesus’ day fasted with some regularity. John the Baptist’s disciples also fasted, but Jesus and his disciples did not. Jesus was questioned about this, and he replied that while the bridegroom was with them they couldn’t fast, but the day was coming when he would be taken away, and then they would fast. (Mark 2:18-20)

Based on the examples of faithful people fasting, and the words of Jesus, that after he was gone his disciples would fast, some believers feel that fasting is not just appropriate, but a necessity. It’s certainly true that there is no indication in the New Testament that we shouldn’t fast.

There are, however, some cautions. As this passage in Isaiah indicates, fasting can be a merely external observance. Jesus had harsh words for those who treated it in that way. (For example, Matthew 6:16-18, which is worth taking a look at.) In the passage we’re looking at today, Isaiah goes on to tell us the kind of fast that the Lord desires.

First, we notice that it is intended that we share our food with the hungry. In other words, you give what you would have eaten to someone else who has a greater need.

This fits and makes sense, but there is more. What do we make of “loosing chains of injustice”, “setting the oppressed free”, giving shelter and clothing to the homeless? What does my refraining from eating have to do with these things?

I believe that Isaiah is saying that merely refraining from eating and “bowing one’s head like a reed” doesn’t do much. Self denial is all right, but it isn’t the main point; the Lord is interested in something more. Not too hard to see why — fasting lasts for a brief time, and is frequently preceded and followed by self indulgence.

The fast the Lord wants is to deny ourselves. Instead of buying some nice new clothes for ourselves, give some to someone in need. Instead of getting a nicer house for myself, provide for someone else. For those who are afflicted by poverty, injustice, prejudice, infirmity—do something that will help. You can’t change the world, but you may very well be able to change the life of one person.

This is obviously a much higher standard than skipping a meal or two! And yet in some ways it can make self denial seem less difficult. Let’s face it, none of us likes self denial very much. But if there is a clear and obvious purpose, we may find it easier. When we’re facing that decision, “do I indulge myself or not,” let’s try to bring another question into the picture. “If I don’t indulge myself, what could I do for someone else instead?”

“In that day the glory of Jacob will fade;
   the fat of his body will waste away.
It will be as when a reaper gathers the standing grain
   and harvests the grain with his arm —
   as when a man gleans heads of grain
   in the Valley of Rephaim.
Yet some gleanings will remain,
   as when an olive tree is beaten,
   leaving two or three olives on the topmost branches,
   four or five on the fruitful boughs,”
   declares the LORD, the God of Israel.
In that day men will look to their Maker
   and turn their eyes to the Holy One of Israel.

This prophecy is one of many that tell us about an important concept—the “remnant” of Israel in the last days.

It starts out plainly, saying that Israel’s (Jacob’s) glory will fade. Then there are three figures. The first is of a man wasting away from hunger. The second is a picture of reaping. And the third is harvesting olives.

The man wasting away is easy to understand: Israel will waste away, growing thin and gaunt. The reaping isn’t quite so plain. Isn’t a harvest of grain a good thing? Especially for a starving man? It would be, but in this case the point is that the grain is taken away, leaving an empty field.

The third figure introduces the idea of the remnant. Like the grain harvest, most of the crop is taken away. But there are always a few olives that are out of reach, that don’t fall when the tree is shaken. It is these few who give hope.

The consistent picture in the prophets is that Israel will be brought very low in the last days. However, God promises that He will never make a full end of Israel. There will always be a small portion of the nation that is saved. Because, He made a covenant with them, to be their God, forever.

This passage is in harmony with others, in suggesting that the survival of the remnant is due to repentance. “In that day men will look to their Maker, and turn their eyes to the Holy One of Israel.” The picture we are given is that Israel is about to be utterly swallowed up. But a fraction of the nation repents and turns to God, and He saves them! It is the same pattern we see repeated over and over in Judges—sin, subjugation, supplication, salvation. The salvation never comes without supplication first.

My understanding of the last days prophecies of Old and New Testaments is that Israel will be brought to the brink of destruction. A good case can be made that they actually go into captivity once more (e.g. Zechariah 14). But then there is repentance and turning to the Holy One of Israel, and He intervenes to save them—by sending their longed-for Messiah, to their astonishment, none other than the Lord Jesus Christ!

   For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve…
   For if the dead are not raised, not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied. But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.

The death and resurrection of Jesus are, as Paul says, “of first importance”. The very core, in fact, of our faith. The importance of Christ’s death would be acknowledged by anyone claiming the designation ‘Christian’. But the significance of the resurrection is missed by many, just as it had apparently been lost sight of in Corinth.

Paul starts by saying it’s vital, and then cites the eyewitnesses who could testify that Jesus rose from the dead. Let there be no doubt about it being a literal event! Then he goes on to lay out its importance. Life out of death is our whole hope! If Christ wasn’t raised, and if we aren’t going to be raised as well, there is no hope.

But, as he goes on to say, Christ has indeed been raised, and he is the “firstfruits”. Further down, in verse 23, he tells us that our turn will come “at his coming”.

The true hope of eternal life is presented with crystal clarity in this chapter. There is no hope, aside from resurrection. Then (and only then) will God’s people be given immortality. Further along in the chapter, verses 51-54, Paul writes:

Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.”

 
What a victory! What a hope! This is something we can hang onto, that will motivate us and carry us through every trial. Paul concludes with a shout of triumph and an encouragement that echoes down the centuries (verses 57-58):

Thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.

Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed. The night is far gone; the day is at hand. So then let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us walk properly as in the daytime, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and sensuality, not in quarreling and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.

There is a word picture here. It’s early morning, just before dawn. It’s time to get up. Instead of an alarm clock, there is someone standing beside your bed. They’re saying, “Come on, you know what time it is. It’s time to get up!” What went on in the night is past. The party, the fight, the sleep. It’s daytime, and a whole different set of behaviors is appropriate for the day.

On one level, this is you waking up to the truth about God, realizing that all the world is in darkness, and is involved in things that belong to the night. On another level, the end of the world’s long night is near, the Sun of Righteousness is about to rise. Salvation is close now, with the arrival of the Lord just around the corner. Paul seems to mix these two together.

And both levels bring us to the same conclusion. It’s completely inappropriate for us to be involved in the works of darkness. The Lord is the light of the world, and we are his. He said that we are the light of the world. God dwells in light. This light, Paul says, is our armor. So, we indeed should conduct ourselves properly, as in the daytime.

Perhaps the key point is the last line. “Make no provision for the flesh.” We do that, don’t we? We have great intentions, we even do a lot that’s right. But we always make provision for the flesh. We always want to be comfortable, to be stimulated, to be entertained. So we set aside some time, some money, some of who we are…in short we make provision that our flesh will be able to enjoy the things we like so much.

“Make no provision for the flesh.” I don’t think I’ve ever run across an exhortation in Scripture that’s tougher than this one. It’s simple, clear, uncompromising. It is, in fact, a distillation of the way of life of the Lord Jesus. What we must not do is say, “Ah, well, he could do it. But he was perfect and I’m not. So there you have it. Can’t be done.” Paul didn’t write this to Jesus. He wrote it to you and me.

“Do you not know this from of old,
since man was placed on earth,
that the exulting of the wicked is short,
and the joy of the godless but for a moment?”

Job is generally considered to be the oldest book in the Bible. How fitting, that it deals with one of the oldest challenges to faith: the “problem” of suffering in the life of a believer.

The basic story is this. Job is a man declared upright and righteous by God, but there is a spirit of jealousy among the “sons of God” (believers). Although Job has done no wrong, God allows Job to suffer. Job himself grows spiritually through this experience, but the primary beneficiaries are Job’s friends. In the end, God again declares Job right, and his friends wrong, and at God’s command Job offers a sacrifice on their behalf, and only then does God accept them.

Does this sound familiar? The righteous one suffering and offering sacrifice to save those who are in the wrong. There is no question that Job is a type (foreshadowing) of Christ.

Most of the book is a dispute between Job and his three friends, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar. Job is upset with his suffering – he has lost everything, including the slaughter of all his children, and is on the brink of death himself from a loathsome disease. He maintains that he never abandoned his righteousness. The friends, at first gently and then more and more vehemently, declare that Job must be a horrendous sinner, or this suffering wouldn’t come upon him.

The friends are wrong. God says so, in chapter 42, verse 7: “The LORD said to Eliphaz the Temanite: ‘My anger burns against you and against your two friends, for you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has.’” We therefore want to exercise caution whenever quoting Job’s friends!

The verses above from chapter 20 are drawn from Zophar’s final speech, and they illustrate the fundamental error of the friends. It is simply not true that the wicked are immediately punished, or that suffering is a sure sign of sinfulness and God’s displeasure. This error has filled human thinking for thousands of years, but it’s just not true. God says so.

Many people to this day jump to the conclusion that suffering is a punishment from God. Many immediately think it of themselves when bad things happen: “God must be punishing me for something.”

A blog like this is too short to permit a full discussion of suffering. But we can point out that David, Asaph, Solomon, Habakkuk, and Jeremiah, as well as Job, lament the fact that the wicked often prosper, that judgments don’t come quickly on them, and that hardship often comes on the righteous.

Job’s friends were wrong. And we are wrong if we jump to a conclusion that we’re being punished for something when trouble comes into our life. Look at the Lord Jesus! He never did anything wrong, but it was God’s will that he suffer. “He learned obedience through what he suffered.” (Hebrews 5:8) And of course, his suffering saved us! Others, such as Job, have gone through experiences that not only shaped them, but were used by God to reach others.

When troubles come (and they come to us all), we need to avoid the error of Job’s friends. Instead, we should ask, “What is God trying to teach me?” And, “Is there someone else who might be reached, who might learn about God, because of how I react to going through this?” Our own spiritual growth, and the growth of those around us, is what God wants to see!

“Therefore be on the alert, for you do not know which day your Lord is coming.”

“For this reason you also must be ready; for the Son of Man is coming at an hour when you do not think He will.”

“Be on the alert then, for you do not know the day nor the hour.”

Most Bible students can immediately identify the Olivet Prophecy. Matthew 24, Mark 13, and Luke 21 record how Jesus gave his disciples signs of his coming. This prophecy receives a lot of attention, but a lot of people don’t realize that Matthew 25 is also part of this same talk. The parables in chapter 25 are familiar, but they aren’t necessarily linked in our minds to the great prophecy of the previous chapter. Actually, the parables begin in chapter 24 and continue on in the next chapter. (Remember, the chapter divisions came a long time later.)

Jesus told five parables about his return, to conclude the prophecy. The point of the first three is being ready, as indicated in the three verses quoted above. Can we possibly miss his point? We aren’t going to know exactly when he’s coming. In spite of the signs he gave! That doesn’t make the signs pointless—they were given for the purpose of keeping us in expectation. But having this prophecy doesn’t give us the ability to foretell the future.

On another occasion, Jesus said, “I tell you now before it takes place, so that when it does take place you may believe.” The prophecies given by Jesus are for the purpose of increasing our faith, when we see them fulfilled. And for that reason we need to be watching! If we’re not, we may miss it.

And if we’re not alert, not focused on his return, we will find ourselves in trouble. The last four of the parables are about Jesus being the Judge when he returns.

Do you think it’s important to know the grounds on which you will be judged? I do! Jesus doesn’t expect us to just figure it out on our own. He clearly tells us how he will determine who receives eternal life, and who is cast out.

• The parable of the steward of the house tells us that a wicked steward will abuse his fellow-servants, and indulge himself with the world. The faithful steward will attend to the needs of the fellow-servants.
• The parable of the ten virgins tells us that those who are unprepared will be left out. But those who are ready and waiting will be welcome.
• The parable of the talents tells us that those who are active in multiplying the Lord’s assets will be rewarded. What are the assets that he expects us to multiply? Surely it can only be people who are His children. That is, we need to be teaching others. The lazy servant just kept his talent (the gospel) safe, and didn’t do anything else with it. He will be rejected.
• The parable of the sheep and goats tells us that those who treat Jesus’ brethren well will be rewarded, while those who ignore their needs will be rejected.

It’s interesting that the first and last of these four parables both indicate that we’ll be judged based on how we treat the brethren. This doubling is not accidental or unimportant. In the Bible, messages are only doubled when they are very significant and very sure.

So what can we conclude? We have a triple warning to keep alert and on watch for the Lord’s coming. We have a double warning to treat our brethren well. And in the meantime, we should be sharing the Lord’s message with others.

If you thought Bible prophecy was just an academic matter, to be left to those who like that sort of thing, perhaps you ought to reconsider! Bible prophecy has a lot to say to every one of us.

And of Zion it will be said,
    “This one and that one were born in her;
    And the Most High Himself shall establish her. ”
The LORD will record,
    When He registers the peoples:
    “This one was born there.”

Orthodox Jews take note of those who are born in Jerusalem. The standard dress for an Orthodox man includes a black coat, but those born in Jerusalem wear a knee-length coat that is taupe (a moderate brownish gray) with black stripes. No one else is permitted to wear this coat. It is immediately obvious that “this one was born there”.

Is this the sense in which the Lord records those who are born in Zion? Isn’t He the God of all the peoples? Are not all men and women offered the same salvation, if they will come to Him through His Anointed?

Literally being born in Jerusalem, or not, is essentially an accident, certainly nothing we have control over. It has nothing to do with our faith. Mankind invests this kind of thing with superstitious significance, but God does not. So what is the psalmist getting at?

It surely brings much more significance to the passage if we consider that the writer is speaking of the new birth, and that it is the new Jerusalem to which he refers. Read these verses in this light, and they say in effect, “The Most High will establish the New Jerusalem, and He will take note of every person who was born anew as a child of the New Jerusalem. He will write them in His book of life, and everyone will recognize that they are the children of the New Jerusalem, for they will be His immortal ones.”

Verse 3 of this psalm says, “Glorious things are spoken of you, O city of God!” True enough of the literal Jerusalem, which will be the capital city of the whole earth, under the Kingship of Jesus Christ. And even more glorious things are spoken of the new Jerusalem.

In his letter to the Galatians (chap 5:22-31), the apostle Paul says that the Jerusalem that now exists is related to Mt. Sinai and the Law, and she and her children are in slavery. But the Jerusalem above is our mother, and her children are the heirs, the children of promise.

This is the Jerusalem we want to be “born” into! May it be said of you and I, “This one and that one were born in her”!

As soon as I heard these words I sat down and wept and mourned for days, and I continued fasting and praying before the God of heaven. And I said, “O LORD God of heaven, the great and awesome God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, let your ear be attentive and your eyes open, to hear the prayer of your servant that I now pray before you day and night for the people of Israel your servants, confessing the sins of the people of Israel, which we have sinned against you. Even I and my father’s house have sinned.

The cause of Nehemiah’s grief was the news that arrived with some travelers who came from the returned exiles in Jerusalem. It’s now been many years since the Jews who wished to were allowed to return home from captivity in Babylon. The temple had been rebuilt. Nehemiah wanted to know how things were going. The news was dismal: “The remnant there in the province who had survived the exile is in great trouble and shame. The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates are destroyed by fire.” (verse 3)

Nehemiah’s response was to pour out his heart to God. He asked the God of Israel for help – something any of us might well do. But I wonder if our prayer would sound anything like Nehemiah’s!

First off, he doesn’t dive straight into his request. He starts off his appeal by giving glory to God, and he makes the very character of God the basis for his appeal. He appeals to “the great and awesome God”, the one “who keeps covenant and steadfast love”. He appeals on behalf of “the people of Israel your servants”. In doing this, Nehemiah is following precedents. I don’t think this is accidental – he consciously imitates the prayer of Daniel from a generation earlier (see Daniel 9:4), and bases his appeal on the words of Moses spoken at the foundation of the nation of Israel (see Deuteronomy 7:19).

In other words, Nehemiah doesn’t just beg, “Please help us!” It’s not a selfish prayer. It’s not based on “we need”. It’s based on what God has said about Himself. Because even Moses in Deuteronomy was referring back, to the time God had revealed His great Name, recorded in Exodus 34:6-7.

The second key thing we notice about this prayer is that, again before asking for anything, Nehemiah makes confession. He admits that they have let God down. The disgrace they’re in is actually what they deserve. He doesn’t try to say (or imply), “you owe us, you should never have let us get into this situation”. He admits that there’s no question of deserving God’s mercy and His help. Nehemiah realizes that disobedience to God will quite rightly result in a barrier to his prayer being answered. And we all disobey! So he confesses, asks for mercy, based on the merciful character of his mighty God.

And finally (looking to the verses that follow the ones quoted above), we see that Nehemiah is prepared to act. He asks God to help, but he doesn’t expect God to wave a wand. Already, in faith, Nehemiah has made plans to approach the king of Persia. He asks God to prosper the request. If the request is successful, Nehemiah will travel many hundreds of miles, and expend years of labor. Nehemiah is willing to work, and he’s willing to risk. What he asks God’s help with is the possible obstacle that could prevent the work from getting started.

Nehemiah’s prayer makes me realize I need to examine my own prayers.

• Am I ready to work, hard, and ask God to guide? Or am I asking God to do it all for me so I don’t have to do much of anything? Am I ready to have my life turned in a completely different direction, if God grants my request?
• Do I confess that God owes me nothing, that anything He gives is beyond what I deserve? Or deep down, maybe not even put into words, do I feel that God owes me? (This usually shows up as anger when I don’t get what I want.) And do I realize that if I persist in disobedience, there is no reason for God to respond to me?
• And, above all, do I make my appeal to God based on Him, His merciful and covenant-keeping character – or do I base it on my perceived need? Or worse, what I want.

Nehemiah’s prayer was answered. As was Daniel’s. As had been David’s and Moses’, and others who had poured out their appeals to God based on the character of God Himself. And as a result, Nehemiah’s life would never be the same!