Reflections on Singapore and Malaysia

福

Apparently, this is the Chinese character (pronounced “fu”) for blessed. That was the subject of my sermons at the Assembly Bible Camp in Cameron Highlands, Malaysia (June 10–15). According to Robert Harris, “We do not make God simply considered and abstracted to be man’s happiness, but God enjoyed; that is, God reconciled, united, and communicated to us. And when God is for us, with us, and in us, then our happiness is brought home to us.” That was my central theme in the context of Christ’s eight beatitudes in Matthew 5:3–12. There were approximately 200 people (adults and children) in attendance. We had a wonderful time of fellowship midst the lush tea plantations blanketing the rolling hills.

Prior to the camp, I spent nine days in Singapore, preaching at Bethesda Hall. This Brethren assembly was established in the early 1850s – not long after the Brethren movement began in 1825. The founder (Mr. Robinson) was from Bristol, England. Prior to immigrating to Singapore, he had attended the original Bethesda Hall in Bristol, where George Muller ministered for decades. As a matter of fact, Muller preached at Bethesda Hall (Singapore) at some point during his missionary tours (1875–1892). What an honor to preach where Muller once preached!

Bethesda Hall actually consists of two congregations. The main congregation of close to 500 gathers in the district of Ang Mo Kio. The other congregation (a church plant) of about 200 gathers in the district of Depot Walk. It’s located at the end of a lane – off a main road. A Hindu temple sits on one side of the lane, and a Chinese temple sits on the other side. It was a tremendous privilege to stand and proclaim “Christ is Lord” in the midst of such idolatry.

It was a great experience to be in a church where people are worshipping God in English, Mandarin, Cantonese, Tamil, and Tagalog. The church is seeking to reach the many ethnic groups which God has brought to its doorstep. Moreover, it has a missionary presence in Malaysia, Cambodia, Vietnam, Nepal, China, and Indonesia.

Singapore itself is a fascinating place (well worth a visit) - the Chinese, Indian, and Malay population coupled with the British legacy and Western influence make for a very unique society.

While in Singapore, we stayed in the home of Stephen and Doris Chang. What a great testimony to the unity of the body of Christ that we could travel half-way around the world and experience such wonderful hospitality in the home of people we had never met until our arrival. We also enjoyed the fellowship of many believers who graciously took us out for meals.

So many highlights... and so many items for thanksgiving! Laura had a great time with the young people - a very welcoming and encouraging group. God gave safety in our travels. God granted physical and mental stamina as I preached 18 times in two weeks. And God blessed His Word to the hearts of His people.

Quotable: “When we became a little acquainted with God, our true happiness commences; and the more we become acquainted with Him, the more truly happy we become” (George Muller).

The People's King

The Israelites request a king, because they want to be like the nations (1 Sam. 8:5). In so doing, they reject God as their king, succumbing (yet again) to idolatry. God warns them of the “ways” of this king – he’ll take everything, including their freedom (8:11–18). But they’re adamant. “No! But there shall be a king over us!” (8:20). And so, God tells them He will give them the king they desire.

Immediately, the author introduces us to Saul (9:1–2).

(1)   We learn something about Saul’s society: he belongs to the tribe of Benjamin (9:1)

When was the last time the tribe of Benjamin was mentioned in Scripture? In Judges 19–21, we find a grotesque story. A Levite and his concubine are traveling home. They need a place to spend the night. They refuse to stay in Jerusalem, because it’s inhabited by Jebusites. They want to stay in a good, safe, wholesome (tongue in cheek) Israelite city. And so, they decide to stay at Gibeah. A man takes them into his home. During the night, the men of the city demand the Levite. They want to commit homosexual rape. The Levite pushes his concubine out the door. The next morning, she’s dead. The Levite sends word of this atrocity to the rest of Israel. The tribes gather, and demand that Benjamin turn over the men of Gibeah. Benjamin refuses. In the ensuing battle, the tribe of Benjamin is decimated – reduced to 600 men.

The point of that incident is to demonstrate that Gibeah is the new Sodom. It shows us how far Benjamin has fallen. It shows us Israel’s deplorable condition: “In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 21:25).

In response to their request, God gives Israel the kind of king they want. Saul is from the tribe of Benjamin. Moreover, he’s from the city of Gibeah (10:26).

(2)   We learn something about Saul’s family: his father is a man of wealth (9:1)

So, what’s wrong with that? There’s nothing wrong with wealth per se, but the author is intentionally contrasting Saul’s father (Kish) with Samuel’s father (Elkanah).

See 1:1–3. Having listed Samuel’s ancestors, the author tells us one thing about his father (Elkanah): “Now this man used to go up year by year from his city to worship and to sacrifice to the LORD of hosts at Shiloh.” Where does he go? Shiloh. Why? The tabernacle is there. When does he go? Annually. The law requires all adult males to be at the tabernacle for certain annual feasts. Why does he go? Worship. In the midst of moral depravity, social decay, political anarchy, and religious idolatry, Elkanah goes to Shiloh.

See 9:1–2. Having listed Saul’s ancestors, the author tells us one thing about his father: he’s “a man of wealth.” The effect of his misplaced priorities upon Saul becomes evident as the narrative unfolds. Please notice two things. (1) Saul doesn’t know Samuel. He doesn’t know where he lives (9:6). He doesn’t know what he looks like (9:18). By this point, Saul has ministered for 40 years. He’s known throughout the land. He’s known to the elders of Israel. But Saul has no idea who Samuel is. How’s that possible? (2) Saul doesn’t know God. He wants to pay Samuel for his services (9:7). He thinks he must bring a present to God, in order to get what he wants. Isn’t this the condition of the self-righteous man? When it’s all said and done, Saul is only interested in the benefit he might derive from Samuel.

How do we explain Saul’s spiritual ignorance? Simply put, his father is a spiritual dud (note dude, but dud).

In his father, Samuel saw a man occupied with worship, but Saul saw a man occupied with wealth. In his father, Samuel saw a man consumed with the heavenly, Saul saw a man consumed with the earthly. In his father, Samuel saw a man enamored with the divine, but Saul saw a man enamored with the carnal. In his father, Samuel saw a man who longed for God, but Saul saw a man who longed for his donkeys.

(3)   We learn something about Saul’s appearance: he is tall and handsome (v. 2)

“When God chose a king after the people’s heart . . . He selected this huge tall man, who, if he had no other good qualities, would at least look great” (Matthew Henry). The Israelites are enamored with the external, not the internal. But the Bible makes it clear that the most essential qualification for leadership is character.

Summary

Saul is representative of the nation of Israel, in that he walks “according to the flesh” (Rom. 8:4). To live according to the flesh is to set the mind on the things of the flesh (Rom. 8:5). By “mind,” Paul means our intentions and purposes. We say of the athlete, “She has set her mind on winning that game.” We say of the student, “He has set his mind on completing that research.” We mean they’re devoted to a goal, which holds their attention. Paul says there are two kinds of people. (1) There are those who set their minds on the things of the flesh (the result of which is death). (2) There are those who set their minds on the things of the Spirit (the result of which is life).

Saul’s mind is set on the flesh. We see evidence of this throughout his life. (1) He enjoys a tremendous position – he’s king. (2) He enjoys a tremendous relationship – he knows Samuel. (3) He enjoys a tremendous experience – he prophesies. But despite it all, his mind is set on the flesh. This is the kind of king the people want. And this is the kind of king God gives them.

Quotable: “We know that character matters when we hire a baby-sitter. How can it not matter when we are calling a leader?” (Al Mohler).

A Cross Carried

And they compelled a passerby, Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to carry his cross (Mk. 15:21)

Simon carries Jesus’ cross. But please notice a very significant detail. They (the soldiers) compel Simon to take up Jesus’ cross. In other words, he doesn’t do it willingly.

Having surveyed the wonderful theology of the cross, I too am compelled to carry the cross – not by force but by love. Jesus is forsaken and deserted (cut off from the love of God), so that we might enjoy the love of God. Do we esteem this love so highly that we’re willing to lose everything for Him? “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Mk. 8:34).

See from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all.

A Body Buried

And when evening had come, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council, who was also himself looking for the kingdom of God, took courage and went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus . . . And Joseph bought a linen shroud, and taking him down, wrapped him in the linen shroud and laid him in a tomb that had been cut out of a rock. And he rolled a stone against the entrance of the tomb. Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where he was laid (Mk. 15:40–47; see Isa. 53:9).

Let’s think about Joseph . . .

Mark mentions two things about this man.

First, Joseph is a respected member of the council. Why’s this significant? Who else could gain access to Pilate, in order to request Jesus’ body? Crucified bodies are usually left on the cross until they decompose. Then, they’re thrown into a common pit. According to custom, that’s what should have happened to Jesus’ body. But Joseph is in a position to request permission to bury Jesus’ body. Here, we see the sovereignty of God.

Second, Joseph takes courage, and approaches Pilate to request the body. Why’s his request a courageous act? (1) What will Pilate think of Joseph? Will Pilate interpret his request as subversive? (2) What will the crowd think of Joseph? Will the crowd interpret his actions as a condemnation of their guilt? (3) What will the council think of Joseph? Will the council resent his actions? Has Joseph just sealed his excommunication? Was does this seemingly simple request cost Joseph?

Let’s think about the women . . .

They witness Jesus’ death (15:40), burial (15:47), and resurrection (16:1). Why does Mark emphasize the fact that these women are present at these three crucial junctures? In that time period, a woman’s testimony is considered unreliable. It’s inadmissible. This is significant. If Mark were “inventing” this account of Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection, he wouldn’t have tied it to the testimony of women.

As these women approach the tomb on Sunday morning, they’re in for three surprises – ascending in terms of the “wow” factor. The first is a removed stone (16:4). The second is a seated man (16:5). The third is a resurrected body (16:6). “He has risen; he is not here.”

The bodily death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus constitute the focus of our hope.

“But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you” (Rom. 8:10–11).

God raised Jesus from the dead, and His Spirit dwells in us. Because that’s true, we can be absolutely certain that God will raise us from the dead. He will give life to our “mortal bodies” through the Holy Spirit.

When I die, what will happen? I’ll enter an intermediate state—between my present state and my final state. My body (outer nature) will be separated from my soul (inner nature). My body will be placed in a grave, where it will decay. But my renewed soul will enter heaven to be with Christ. When Christ returns in glory, He will bring my soul with Him, and He will raise my decayed body from the dead. At that moment, my body and my soul will be reunited. I will attain to immortality. Death will be impossible because sin will be impossible. That’s my hope – a confident expectation.

A Truth Proclaimed

And when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, “Truly this man was the Son of God!” (Mk. 15:39; see Isa. 49:6).

The veil is torn, symbolizing that the way is opened to God. To emphasize the point, Mark immediately records the centurion’s words: “Truly this man was the Son of God.” Given his audience, Mark is particularly interested in proving that the way is open to Gentiles.

An important question is this: Why does Jesus’ death move the centurion? This soldier has seen lots of people die. In all likelihood, he has killed his share of people. But something about Jesus’ death softens him. What?

In the midst of the lacerated wounds, the excretion of bodily fluids, the nauseating smell, and the disfigured face, the centurion sees Jesus die unjustly, quietly, patiently, intentionally, tenderly, voluntarily, and gloriously.

Quotable: “When we look at the cross, God is not asking us to pity Jesus, because Jesus isn’t the one who needs the pity. Sinners who continue under the just judgment of God, they are the ones who need pity” (Martyn Lloyd-Jones).

A Veil Destroyed

And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom (Mk. 15: 38; see Ex. 26:31–33).

This “curtain” is the inner veil, which separates the Most Holy Place from the Holy Place. It’s approximately 15 ft in height and 15 ft in width. It’s made of fine, white, twined linen. Cherubim are embroidered into it with blue, purple, and scarlet. Why cherubim?

When God gives directions for the construction of the mercy seat, He declares, “And you shall make two cherubim of gold . . . Make one cherub on the one end, and one cherub on the other end . . . The cherubim shall spread out their wings above, overshadowing the mercy seat with their wings, their faces one to another . . .” (Ex. 25:18–20). We read that God’s glory descends above the cherubim: “And when Moses went into the tent of meeting to speak with the LORD, he heard the voice speaking to him from above the mercy seat that was on the ark of the testimony, from between the two cherubim . . .” (Num. 7:89).

This “descent” depicts God’s glorious presence in heaven, where He’s “enthroned above the cherubim” (1 Sam. 4:4; 2 Sam. 6:2; 2 Kgs. 19:15; 1 Chron. 13:6). Asaph prays, “Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel, you who lead Joseph like a flock! You who are enthroned upon the cherubim, shine forth” (Ps. 80:1). Hezekiah prays, “O LORD of hosts, God of Israel, who is enthroned above the cherubim, you are the God, you alone, of all the kingdoms of the earth; you have made heaven and earth” (Isa. 37:16).

The cherubim, therefore, are creatures that reside beneath God’s glory (Ezek. 10:10, 14, 20).

After man’s sin and rebellion in the garden, God stations the cherubim and the flaming sword to the east of the garden (Gen. 3:24). Simply put, this speaks of the separation that exists between God and man. Prior to the fall, man delights in God and in God’s moral perfection. After the fall, what was previously man’s delight becomes his dread. The cherubim remind man of God’s glory. They remind man of the separation that now exists between that which is holy and unholy.

“For you are not a God who delights in wickedness; evil may not dwell with you . . . you hate all evildoers” (Ps. 5:4–5). Why is sin so offensive to God? “Every sin is a kind of cursing God in the heart; an aim at the destruction of the being of God; not actually, but virtually; not in the intention of every sinner, but in the nature of every sin” (Stephen Charnock). For this reason, God “hates all evildoers.” (1) God hates sin necessarily: “You who are of purer eyes than to see evil and cannot look at wrong . . .” (Hab. 1:13). (2) God hates sin perpetually: “God is a righteous judge, and a God feels indignation every day” (Ps. 7:11).

We stand in desperate need of someone to remove the cause of God’s displeasure. God is still enthroned above the cherubim in all His glory. God still hates sin. The flaming sword still threatens death to all who approach Him. We need someone to meditate between the righteous Judge and rebellious sinner. Praise God! “For there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Tim. 2:5).

In the OT, only the high priest could pass through the veil on the Day of Atonement. He sprinkled the blood of a sacrifice on top of the mercy seat and in front of the ark – seven times. This reveals the essence of atonement: the appeasing of God’s wrath and securing of God’s mercy by the removal of sin through the shedding of blood. Jesus (our Mediator) makes atonement upon the cross. He sheds His blood. He enters through the veil (His flesh), thereby appeasing God’s wrath and securing God’s mercy. Symbolizing this, the veil in the temple is torn. What a comfort to those who repent and believe! With boldness we enter into God’s presence, knowing that He forgives us our sins and accepts us in His Beloved (Heb. 9:6–8; 10:19–22).

A Cry Unanswered

And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mk. 15:34; see Ps. 22:1).

Jesus doesn’t cry with a loud voice, because of what men do to Him. Jesus cries with a loud voice, because of what His Father does to Him. In a word, the Father forsakes the Son. What is this forsakenness?

It isn’t the termination of the union between the Father and the Son. They’re one indivisible essence. “I and the Father are one” (Jn. 10:30).

It isn’t the termination of the union between the divine nature and the human nature: “None of the rulers of this age understood this, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory” (1 Cor. 2:8).

It isn’t the termination of the Father’s love for the Son: “For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life . . .” (Jn. 10:17).

It isn’t the termination of Jesus’ personal holiness. He bears the guilt – not the stain – of our sin: “He suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous” (1 Pet. 3:18).

So, what is this forsakenness? It’s the withholding of the irradiations of divine love. That’s why Jesus cries, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This isn’t a cry of doubt. This isn’t a cry of despair. This isn’t a cry of surprise. This is the cry of the damned.

There has never been a time in all eternity when the Father has wanted to say “This is my beloved Son” more than at this moment. Yet He refuses to answer the Son, because the Son has taken my place.

And Jesus uttered a loud cry and breathed his last (Mk. 15:37). Usually, those who were crucified would slip into a coma due to blood-loss. Then, they would slump over. As a result, they would slowly suffocate to death. But that isn’t how Jesus dies. He’s conscious the entire time. He consciously bears the wrath of God. Having done so, He dies supernaturally, confirming His promise: “I lay down my life for the sheep” (Jn. 10:15).

Quotable: “Hell came to Calvary that day and the Savior descended into it and bore its horrors in our place” (William Hendriksen).