Reading Ruth Backwards

A Multi-Layered Story of Love That We Love

This Sunday we will begin a new sermon series in the book of Ruth. This is understandably one of the most loved books of the Old Testament simply given its content. It’s a very personal story about a widow, Naomi, and her daughter-in-law, Ruth, who through their resourcefulness, initiative, and faith, lean into the promises of Yahweh to redeem and reward his people, which he does in this case through Boaz. We love it because it is a multi-layered love story. It highlights the love between a widowed daughter-in-law and widowed mother-in-law who care for and provide for one another even at great risk to themselves. It highlights the love of a man for a woman, a woman whom the man is willing to risk his economic stability for in order to love her and do right by her and his kin. And, it highlights God’s love for Naomi and Ruth, whom he ultimately redeems and rewards. But we also love it because it fits into the bigger scheme of God’s redemptive narrative.

One grammatical feature stands out from the very beginning of the book of Ruth. The very first word in Ruth is the Hebrew conjunction that we render, “And.” So a literal translation for the first words in Ruth could be “And it was…”. This seems odd. We don’t usually start sentences, let alone entire books with a conjunction because they are meant to connect what follows with what precedes. This suggests, then, that the book of Ruth connects to something preceding it. What is going on? Well, the author of Ruth aims to make abundantly clear that this very personal and intimate narrative fits into the greater scheme of the canon of Scripture. Ruth is meant to be read in light of the whole of God’s grand redemptive narrative. This becomes even more evident when we start considering the book of Ruth by first reading it backwards. Or, rather, reading the end first. To fully appreciate the book of Ruth in all of its beauty and to apply the wisdom therein, we must understand the narrative in light of its ending.

 

Begin at the End

This is how the book of Ruth ends:

 

And the women of the neighborhood gave him a name, saying, “A son has been born to Naomi.” They named him Obed. He was the father of Jesse, the father of David. Now these are the generations of Perez: Perez fathered Hezron, Hezron fathered Ram, Ram fathered Amminadab, Amminadab fathered Nahshon, Nahshon fathered Salmon, Salmon fathered Boaz, Boaz fathered Obed, Obed fathered Jesse, and Jesse fathered David (Ruth 4:17–22).

 

The book of Ruth ends by highlighting David. Thus, the ending of Ruth makes clear that through Ruth and Boaz, God preserved the line of king David. And in preserving the line of king David, God ultimately preserved the line of the the promised offspring, who would be the Messiah, Jesus. To make himself clear on both counts, the narrator repeats himself. First he notes the words of Naomi’s neighbors that say Obed was the grandfather of David (Ruth 4:17). Then the narrator offers a genealogy using the formula, “these are the generations of…” (4:18–22) which echoes genealogies elsewhere in the OT that highlight God’s covenant faithfulness to preserve the line of his promised offspring of the woman in Genesis 3:15 (Gen 5:1; 10:1; 11:10; 11:27; 25:19; 37:2). To fully appreciate the book of Ruth in all of its beauty, we must understand the narrative in light of this end. We must read Ruth backward, starting with the end, then go to the beginning. Indeed, this is how the original audience reading Ruth or hearing Ruth read to them would have interpreted the story.

For the original audience and/or those readers of Ruth in the post-exilic and intertestimental period—those who either experienced firsthand or heard and read about David’s glorious reign—the first few sentences in Ruth would create massive tension:

 

In the days when the judges ruled there was a famine in the land, and a man of Bethlehem in Judah went to sojourn in the country of Moab, he and his wife and his two sons. The name of the man was Elimelech and the name of his wife Naomi, and the names of his two sons were Mahlon and Chilion. They were Ephrathites from Bethlehem in Judah. They went into the country of Moab and remained there. But Elimelech, the husband of Naomi, died, and she was left with her two sons. These took Moabite wives; the name of the one was Orpah and the name of the other Ruth. They lived there about ten years, and both Mahlon and Chilion died, so that the woman was left without her two sons and her husband (Ruth 1:1–5).

 

Elimelech. Naomi. Ephrathites. Bethlehem. Judah. Ruth. Elimelech dead. Ruth’s husband dead. The ancient, OT-informed reader or hearer of this would immediately know that the line of king David was hanging in the balance. Just as we should read this and immediately know that not only was the line of king David in jeopardy, but the line of the Messiah was in jeopardy. As one reads the story then, one sees that through the very real, practical, innovative, yet covenantally informed faith of normal people (Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz), God worked to preserve the line of David and to preserve the line of Jesus. The riveting story of Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz’s mutual love and kindness toward one another becomes even more riveting when understood as culminating in God’s redemption of not only Naomi and Ruth, but of humanity.

 

A Glorious Principle

Besides just being a glorious story that points us to Jesus, there is a principle in Ruth for us to draw out. God uses means to carry out his covenant promises. And one of the primary means God uses is his faithful people. Through the man Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the exemplar of our faith, God fulfilled all of promises. And now, through Jesus working in his faithful people, the church, by the Holy Spirit, God continues to fulfill his promises.

 

Conclusion

Paul’s prayer in 2 Thessalonians 1:11–12 seems apt here. There Paul prays this:

 

To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.

 

Paul prays that every resolve for good birthed in the heart of his people and every work of faith that springs forth from those resolves would be fulfilled for a glorious purpose: that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in us and us in him. Our practical, creative faith in action right now proves to be a means by which God continues to work to glorify the name of Jesus in us so that we may be glorified in him. Just as God used the faith of very real people in the book of Ruth to preserve the line of David and ultimately Jesus, God continues to use the faith of his very real people today. Today he works through his people to carry out his plan of redemption through the spreading of the church. Therefore, let us take our cues from the book of Ruth and Paul’s prayer and continue to work by faith knowing that God is glorifying Jesus through us for our ultimate joy in him.

Not One Word

Has anyone told you they would do something – then failed to do it?

We all experience such disappointments time and again. Why?

The person may have lied, making a promise while having no intention of carrying it out.

Or perhaps they were not aware at the time that they could never fulfill the promise. (One of my children, after a discussion at age six of the nature and consequences of sin, stated with wide eyes and complete sincerity, “I will never, ever sin!”)

Alternately, although sincere when stating their intentions, circumstances may have changed:

  • They may change their mind and no longer want to fulfill the promise;
  • They may have forgotten their promise;
  • Or although they remember the promise and want to fulfill it, they may no longer be able to. Perhaps they have lost the money they planned to give you. Or their health has failed so they can’t take you on the promised trip. Or they have died.

Thus, people often fail us. Consequently, we learn to be skeptical about promises others make.

We wrongly also become skeptical about promises God makes.

Scripture gives us plenty of examples of humans failing to live up to their promises – promises made to one another, and promises made to God. But the Bible assures us: God always fulfills every promise.

The book of Joshua underlines this point. The rescued Israelites have promised repeatedly to obey all that God says (Exodus 19:8, 24:3 & 7). Yet they have made and worshiped a golden calf; they have grumbled and complained and have wanted to choose a different leader to bring them back to slavery in Egypt.

What about God? Joshua 21:45 provides a summary:

Not one word of all the good promises that the LORD had made to the house of Israel had failed; all came to pass.

Note that the identical Hebrew root underlies “word,” “promises,” and “made.” We get a taste of the way an ancient Israelite would hear this verse by rendering it: “Not one word of all the good words that Yahweh had worded to the house of Israel had failed; all came to pass.”

Not one! Every word God spoke proved to be true!

And that is still the case. God will fulfill His every promise. For God is not liable to the human weaknesses listed above that lead us to make promises we don’t fulfill. Consider them in turn:

  1. God doesn’t lie.
    1. Numbers 23:19: “God is not man, that he should lie”
    2. 1 Samuel 15:29: “The Glory of Israel will not lie”
    3. 2 Samuel 7:28: “O Lord GOD, you are God, and your words are true”
    4. Titus 1:2: God, who never lies
    5. Hebrews 6:18: It is impossible for God to lie
  2. God doesn’t forget. We often feel as if He does, and Scripture records such feelings among those who are His (see, for example, Lamentations 5:20, Psalm 42:9, Psalm 77:7-9, and Isaiah 49:14). But God tells His people, “You are my servant; O Israel, you will not be forgotten by me” (Isaiah 44:21). Furthermore, He addresses their doubts directly in Isaiah 49: Zion said, “The LORD has forsaken me; my Lord has forgotten me.” “Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are continually before me.”
  3. God doesn’t change His mind.
    1. Numbers 23:19 again: “God is not … a son of man, that he should change his mind. Has he said, and will he not do it? Or has he spoken, and will he not fulfill it?”
    2. Romans 11:29: The gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.
  4. Nothing can prevent God from fulfilling His promises
    1. Genesis 18:14: “Is anything too hard for the LORD?”
    2. Jeremiah 32:27: “Behold, I am the LORD, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for me?”
    3. Job 42:2: “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.”
    4. Luke 1:37: “Nothing will be impossible with God.”
    5. Mark 10:27: “With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.”
    6. Mark 14:36 “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you.”
  5. Even we cannot prevent God from fulfilling His promises in us and through us

We see this in the Old Testament in the repeated failures of the people of Israel – yet God’s promises still prove true. Not one word of all God’s good words to them fails! We see this similarly in Jesus’ disciples: they fail Him, they desert Him, Peter denies Him – yet He indeed makes them fishers of men, and builds His church through such weak, fallible humans.

 So listen to God’s Words. Every one is true. Every one is sincere. He will fulfill every one.

When you are tempted to think of God as if He were a man, when you are beginning to doubt His promises, reflect on the Scriptures cited above. Consider the context of each. And have confidence: God’s Word is more certain than anything in all creation: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” (Matthew 24:35).

Two Evils, One Gospel

Be appalled, O heavens, at this; be shocked, be utterly desolate, declares the Lord, for my people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water (Jeremiah 2:12–13)

When I read this verse, a story comes to mind.

 

Once about ten years ago, I made a bad decision. I woke up one morning and decided to go for a long distance run. Now keep in mind that I had not been running regularly at all. And even in my more regular running days, distance running was not my specialty. Due to genetics and ultimately God’s sovereign design of my anatomy, physiology, and biochemistry, I am what you might call, a sprinter. One hundred meters pushes it distance-wise for me. However, as I began running that morning…I felt good. So I just kept running. And running. And running. And before long, I had gone about twelve miles…in one direction! Having opted for the country roads, I was not around a lot of life…except cows. I was dead. My legs were jelly, and I could feel small twinges in my quads and calves that were the harbingers of painful cramps that were sure to come. And of course, I was, naturally, quite thirsty. However, I had neglected to bring water with me. As I said, this was a bad decision. Added on top of all of this was the fact that I had to figure out how to make it back home. There was really only one option. So I turned around and began the very long, very slow jog/walk/stumble home.

 

As I made my way, it didn’t take long for the blazing Oklahoma summer sun to begin baking me. It got to the point that I had to find water. I was running the risk of succumbing to heat sickness or, worse, heat stroke. Thankfully, it had rained just the night before so there was some rain water in the bar ditch beside the road. I didn’t have to think very hard about whether or not to drink it. I knelt down, soaked my shirt and slaked my thirst with water from the ditch. And ultimately, by God’s grace and a car ride from a stranger (also God’s grace), I made it home. Now where does Jeremiah 2:12–13 come in? Let’s consider it.

 

In Jeremiah 2:12–13, God’s word identifies for us the dual reality of our evil, sinful actions. And according to the LORD, our actions are appalling and shocking to the heavenly realm. Why? Because we, God’s creatures and image bearers, who completely depend upon God for life, have “committed two evils.” We (1) have forsaken God and (2) have hewed out broken cisterns.

 

First, we have turned away from God the source of our life or, as God says, “the fountain of living waters” (2:13). This was our first evil. Second, and on top of that, when we found ourselves dying of thirst, instead of turning back to God we sought out sin and idols in an attempt to satisfy our thirst—in an attempt to find life apart from God, which is impossible. Or, as God says, we “hewed out cisterns for [ourselves], broken cisterns that can hold no water” (2:13). This was our second evil. And this is the natural progression of sin, is it not? We first rebel, turn away from, and forsake God. And then, we find and cling to our favorite idols and sins. And slowly and progressively, we begin to reflect God less and reflect our idols more. Instead of loving God, receiving life from him, and giving life to others, we love our idols, which do not give life but take life. And so we too ultimately take life from others. We become: lovers of self, lovers of money, lovers of sexual immorality, lovers of power, prideful, arrogant, angry, abusive, disobedient, ungrateful, unholy, heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good, treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God (2 Tim 3:1–5). We become all of this, all because we forsake God our fountain of living water, end up finding ourselves thirsty, and turn to broken cisterns that do not satisfy our thirst or give life. Let’s consider my running story once again to illustrate this.

 

When I found myself fifteen or so miles into my run—feet cooking on hot asphalt, head roasting in the hot Oklahoma sun, body in dire need of water for the sake of my immediate health—if someone would have come and offered me crystal clear, clean, cold, fresh water, it would have been utterly foolish of me to instead choose the ditch water that ran next to the road. To put an even finer point on it, it would have been utterly foolish, indeed insane, of me, upon seeing any available water to choose instead to eat a handful of dirt rather than drink. But this is exactly what we do when we choose idols and sins rather than God who is our fountain of living water—we choose to eat dirt from broken cisterns. This is a testament to our blindness to the worth and value of God and an offense to his goodness. This is evil twice over. And according to Jeremiah 2:13, this is precisely what we have done. But thanks be to God, who does not leave us to our foolish selves.

 

Pastor Wil will expound on this gospel reality more this weekend. But for now, let us whet our appetite for the feast that awaits come Sunday. God in his grace comes to us by his Son in the time of our most dire need when our spiritual dehydration threatens to consume us. And what does his Son say? He says, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink” (John 7:37). Jesus offers us living water so that we will never thirst again (John 4:10, 14). Jesus offers us life in God once again through the Holy Spirit if we will but turn from our sins—plug up our broken cisterns that we’ve dug—, come to him in faith, and drink deeply. Let us not reject his offer. For if we drink from his living water now, the gospel promises that we will be sure to drink from it in the new heavens and new earth where the river of life flows freely, unabated by any vestiges of human sinfulness (Revelation 22:1–5). So come. Come and drink. Taste and see that the Lord is good.

“Do You Love Me?”

What is the defining question that someone who would be a disciple of Jesus must answer? Jesus’ interaction with Peter in John 21:15–19 points us to the answer.

In John 21:15–19, we see one of the more memorable scenes in all of Scripture—the risen Jesus restoring Peter. Recall, Peter had denied Jesus three times at the most critical time of Jesus’ ministry, the cross. The cross defines Jesus as Messiah, the Messiah that Peter was dedicating his life to. And at his Messiah’s defining moment, Peter abandoned and denied him. Now, on the shores of Galilee, the resurrected Jesus, having sought out Peter, sits down with him and some of the other disciples in order to restore him. Peter denied Jesus three times, and so, after breakfast, Jesus fixes his gaze on Peter and three times asks him a critical question: “Do you love me?” (John 21:15, 16, 17). Before considering this question, it might be helpful to consider what Jesus did not ask Peter.

  • Jesus did not ask: “Simon, son of John, do you know me?”
  • Jesus did not ask: “Simon, son of John, are you sorry?”
  • Jesus did not ask: “Simon, son of John, do you want my forgiveness?”
  • Jesus did not ask: “Simon, son of John, will you follow and obey me?

Each one of these questions is not necessarily a wrong or bad question. In fact these are appropriate questions to ask given Peter’s sin. However, they are not the ultimate question, that is, they do not get to the heart of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. All of these questions are downstream from love for Jesus. Consider each in turn.

 

“Do you know me?”

Jesus could have asked, “Simon, son of John, do you know me?” This is natural because this reflects Peter’s denial. Peter denied that he knew Jesus. He denied that he had any relationship with him. So, we could have expected Jesus to ask, “Peter, do you know me?” as a sort of redo moment for Peter, who would answer, “Yes, Lord; you know that I know you.” But this doesn’t go far enough. You can know someone and be in relationship with someone and still not truly and rightly love them.

 

“Are you sorry for denying me?”

Jesus could have asked, “Simon, son of John, are you sorry?” This is natural to expect because when we wrong someone, we apologize. Peter sinned against Jesus, his teacher, his friend, and his Messiah. Peter should apologize. So Jesus could have asked, “Peter, are you sorry for denying me?” And Peter could have answered, “Yes, Lord; you know that I am sorry.” But this does not go far enough. You can be sorry because of the guilt you feel rather than sorry because you wronged someone you love. You can be sorry for wronging someone and at the same time not truly and rightly love them.

 

“Do you want my forgiveness?”

Jesus could have asked, “Simon, son of John, do you want my forgiveness?” This would be natural to expect in the same way it would be natural to expect Jesus to ask if Peter’s sorry. Peter sinned against his Messiah Jesus, and, therefore, would naturally want to apologize in order to receive forgiveness. So Jesus could have asked, “Peter, do you want my forgiveness?” To which Peter could have answered, “Yes, Lord; you know I want your forgiveness.” But again, this does not strike the heart of the matter. It is possible to want forgiveness merely for forgiveness’s sake. It is possible to want forgiveness to assuage one’s one conscience and nothing more. You can want forgiveness from someone and not want them. You can want forgiveness from someone and not truly and rightly love them.

 

“Will you follow and obey me?”

Jesus could have asked, “Simon, son of John, will you follow and obey me?” This would be expected because by his denial, Peter’s loyalty is now in question. So Jesus could have said, “Peter, will you follow and obey me?” To which Peter could have answered, “Yes, Lord; you know I will follow and obey you.” But once again, this question does not address the most pressing issue. For one can follow and obey out of a sense of duty and duty alone. You can follow and obey someone and not truly and rightly love them.

 

“Do you love me?”

So Jesus asks Peter the most important question. He asks Peter the defining question that a disciple must answer. Jesus says, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” If he loves Jesus more than anything, even his own life, then Peter will truly and rightly come to know, that is, enter fully into relationship with, Jesus. If he loves Jesus more than anything, then Peter will truly and rightly be repentant and seek forgiveness when he sins. If he loves Jesus more than anything, then Peter will truly and rightly follow and obey Jesus. Indeed, it is out of Peter’s professed loved for Jesus that Jesus then commissions him, “Feed my sheep.” The starting place for everything a disciple of Jesus is and does, is love for Jesus.

 

“Do YOU love me?”

And so, we are faced with same question. Do we love Jesus? Do you love Jesus? To love Jesus is to love God (John 5:42–43; John 8:42). And to love God is the greatest command given to man (Matthew 22:37–38). In fact, if we do not love Jesus more than anything else, then we cannot truly and rightly be his disciple (Matthew 10:37). Jesus has to be our greatest treasure. We have to love Jesus more than our own lives (Mark 8:34–35). Why? Because he is the greatest treasure, and he is life (Colossians 1:18). And Jesus comes to all of us and asks, “Do you love me?” Our answer to that question will define our lives for all eternity.

Mountaintops and Valleys

6 So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” 7 He said to them, “It is not for you to know times or seasons that the Father has fixed by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.” 9 And when he had said these things, as they were looking on, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight (Acts 1:6–9).

 

I think we can all relate to the disciples. Here in Acts 1:6–9, we see that the disciples are wondering if Jesus will finally restore the kingdom now that he has risen from the dead. Who can blame them. They’ve witnessed the miraculous! They’ve been to the mountaintop with their king! Death has been defeated! Surely, now is the time to set all things right permanently. But Jesus says,

“It is not for you to know times or seasons that the Father has fixed by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”

Essentially, Jesus tells them, “It’s not yet time. But it is time for you to get to work as my witnesses.”

 

Our small group reflected on this reality briefly just this week. God richly ministered to us as a church family through our very full Easter weekend. From our Good Friday service to a delicious, shared meal on Holy Saturday with some members to a very early and beautiful Sunrise service on Resurrection Sunday—which was followed by a breakfast feast with our whole church family!—to a beautiful, gospel-rich and Holy Spirit filled Resurrection Sunday service, God truly met us and blessed us this past weekend. Many of us felt we had been up on a mountaintop with God. And now that it was over, some of us had the post-Easter blues, and wondered, “What now?” Well, Pastor Coty reminded us that this experience is not unique.

In Mark 9:2–13, we see three of the disciples have a literal mountaintop experience. While up on a high mountain with Jesus, Peter, James, and John suddenly find themselves subsumed by Jesus’ divine glory as he is transfigured before their very eyes. The experience is so overwhelmingly glorious and terrifyingly rich that Peter—not knowing what to say but nonetheless still managing to speak—acknowledges the goodness of the situation and suggests that they build a hut for Jesus in order to stay up on the mountain! The glory of the heavenly mountaintop experience in Peter’s mind warranted remaining on the mountaintop. Now this was not a wrong desire, wanting to remain in Jesus’ glory, but the timing was not right. There still remained much left to do in the broken, sinful world before the kingdom of God would come in all its fullness with Jesus reigning in all his glory. And the very next scene reveals this.

In Mark 9:14–29, we see Jesus, Peter, James, and John descend the mountain to join up with their comrades below. There, the exact opposite of the heavenly, glorious mountaintop, a valley marked by faithlessness and demonic oppression, immediately confronts them. A father with a demon possessed son, whom the disciples could not deliver, meets Jesus. Jesus’ response to the overall situation testifies to the work that remains to be done on earth, “O faithless generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him to me” (Mark 9:19). In Jesus we see the desire to depart and be in the Father’s heavenly glory. And in light of this desire, Jesus gets to work and delivers the boy. Jesus, while ever-desiring to return to his glory and see the fullness of the kingdom of God come to earth, continues to go about doing the hard and necessary work of serving and ministering to those in need. And he would do so all the way to the cross, for his cross is the only way his glory and his kingdom would come. And his cross is the only way those in need could enter that kingdom. Jesus’ gospel mission, his service, his ministry is the only way a faithless generation becomes a faithful generation.

So in Jesus we have our perfect example. In Jesus, we see what we should do after a glorious mountaintop experience. We should go to work advancing the kingdom. We go back down into the valley of the world marked by faithlessness and demonic oppression in order to be agents of gospel deliverance. We go into the valley of the world as his witnesses, clothed in the power of the Holy Spirit whom he sent to us. We go all-in on serving, hands to the plow, never looking back. And we serve with our hearts ever-desiring one thing—seeing the king, our God, in his beauty (Psalm 27:4; Isaiah 33:17). Yes, we serve with our eyes firmly fixed on one person and one place—the author and perfecter of our faith in the everlasting city of God in that far heavenly country that is to come (Hebrews 11:10, 16; 12:2, 22; 13:14).

Thank God for the moments of mountaintop glory in this life, and cherish them. They are a sweet reprieve and boost of spiritual vitality. They are like a father sweeping up his child into his arms for a big hug. Indeed, that is what they are—our heavenly Father, sweeping us up into his joy and glory. But when the mountaintop passes, and earthly reality sets back in, keep your heart and mind fixed on the heavenly, while working with your hands in the earthly. Remember the glory you’ve seen, look to the glory that is to come, and continue on your pilgrimage to that heavenly city that sits high atop God’s holy mountain. And along the way, serve. And, by God’s grace, help deliver your enslaved fellow men in this dark valley below. You may not know the time of restoration, but restoration is sure. And your king calls you to be his witnesses. So tell people of the glory you’ve seen and of the glory that is coming.

Meditating on the Cross

No event in history is more important than the cross of Jesus Christ. Yet the world around us distracts us from this great act of love and justice, of mercy and punishment. Thus we need times of intentional focus on this theme. In addition to our services Friday evening and Sunday morning, please take time this week to focus on the cross, and all that it entails.

Here are some resources to help you do that.

The scriptural accounts: We will read Mark’s account of the cross and the resurrection at our services. Read the other accounts also: Matthew 26-27, Luke 22-23, and John 18-19.

Bach’s St Matthew’s Passion: I have spent many a Good Friday afternoon listening to this masterpiece, which includes all of the text of Matthew’s account as well as various hymns and meditations. There are numerous recordings available on YouTube and the usual music apps. Listen especially to the account of Jesus’ dying on the cross and its immediate aftermath beginning at 5:30 of this video, and continuing to the first 2:15 minutes of this video. The links include English subtitles for the German lyrics; the text is from Matthew 27:45-54. Some consider Bach’s rendition of the centurion’s cry, “Truly this was the Son of God” the most beautiful piece in the entirety of western music.

John Piper’s narrative poem, “Pilate’s Wife”: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3. Pastor John wrote these poems for Advent in 2002, a few weeks after Beth and I moved to this area; I read parts to our fledgling church plant that year. Here is an excerpt from the end of part 1.

Come, children, take your fire, and light
This advent candle one. For bright
And blazing is our hope and deep
Desire that all the world would leap
To know the truth that Christ destroys
False worlds that he might fill with joys.
To know the truth that massacres
Might be forgiv’n and one who errs
A thousand times may find at last
That all his horrid sins are cast
Into the deep, and Christ, by grace,
Has made his massacre a place
Of life where even those who scorned
His face, may be with life adorned.

Bob Chilcott’s St John’s Passion. This piece, first performed in 2013, is new for me this year. In the tradition of Bach’s passions, Chilcott includes all of John’s account, intermixing the English text with hymns written between the 5th and 19th centuries. The music is all new. You can read the biblical and hymn texts via this pdf file and listen to the one-hour performance here. The musical setting for When I Survey the Wondrous Cross – the closing piece – is exceptionally beautiful. Here are the texts of three of the other hymns Chilcott uses, with links to the recordings:

Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle by Venantius Fortunatus (c. 530–c. 600), translated by Percy Dearmer (1867–1936)

Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle,
Sing the ending of the fray;
Now above the Cross, the trophy,
Sound the loud triumphant lay:
Tell how Christ, the world’s Redeemer,
As a victim won the day.

God in pity saw man fallen,
Shamed and sunk in misery,
When he fell on death by tasting
Fruit of the forbidden tree;
Then another tree was chosen
Which the world from death should free.

Jesu, grant me this, I pray, 17th century Latin, translated by Henry Williams Baker (1821–77)

Jesu, grant me this, I pray,
Ever in thy heart to stay;
Let me evermore abide
Hidden in thy wounded side.

If the evil one prepare,
Or the world, a tempting snare,
I am safe when I abide
In thy heart and wounded side.

If the flesh, more dangerous still,
Tempt my soul to deeds of ill,
Naught I fear when I abide
In thy heart and wounded side.

Death will come one day to me;
Jesu, cast me not from thee:
Dying let me still abide
In thy heart and wounded side

There is a green hill far away by Cecil Frances Alexander (1818–95)

There is a green hill far away,
Without a city wall,
Where the dear Lord was crucified,
Who died to save us all,
Who died to save us all.

We may not know, we cannot tell,
What pains he had to bear,
But we believe it was for us
He hung and suffered there,
He hung and suffered there.

He died that we might be forgiv’n,
He died to make us good,
That we might go at last to heav’n,
Saved by his precious blood,
Saved by his precious blood.

Oh, dearly, dearly has he loved,
And we must love him too,
And trust in his redeeming blood,
And try his works to do,
And try his works to do.

May our Lord work though His Word, His church, and the musical gifts He has given us to highlight our sinfulness that necessitates the cross, and thereby to magnify the riches of His grace poured out on us through the death, resurrection, ascension, and return of our Lord Jesus, so that we as His people might endure in faith in Him, boasting only in the cross, Good Friday after Good Friday after Good Friday, until He returns.

To Fear or Not To Fear, That Is the Question – Matthew 10:24-33

(Note: This devotion has been slightly modified from a devotion I gave last week on 3/11/24 at Billy Graham)

Most of us know that found throughout the Bible is, the command “Do not fear.” It’s an incredibly encouraging command, because it’s usually included with the vital fact that the reason to not fear is because God is near (see Joshua 1:9; Philippians 4:5-7). Alongside this command in the Old Testament is the concept of “the fear the LORD”. This is perhaps most famously stated in the early lines of Proverbs in chapter 1, verse 7, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.” But does the fear of the Lord concept continue in the New Testament? How does this concept work alongside the continued command to not fear? Let’s peer and ponder our Lord’s answer in Matthew 10:24-33

24 A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master. 25 It is enough for the disciple to be like his teacher, and the servant like his master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of His household.

26 So have no fear of them, for nothing is covered that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known. 27 What I tell you in the dark, say in the light, and what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. 28 And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear Him who can destroy both soul and body in Hell. 29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. 30 But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. 31 Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. 32 So everyone who acknowledges Me before men, I also will acknowledge before My Father who is in Heaven, 33 but whoever denies Me before men, I also will deny before My Father who is in Heaven.

So quickly, two things to not fear and One whom we should fear.

  1. Don’t fear the smear. Jesus is saying these words in the context of sending out His 12 apostles to proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God and to verify it through miracles. He’s warned them, just before our passage in verse 16, that He’s sending them, “out as sheep in the midst of wolves.” He’s told them they’ll be dragged to court, and hated by others (even family members), for Jesus’ namesake. He’s telling them this ahead of time, so they won’t be surprised, but so they’ll endure and be saved. Here in verses 24-25, we’re given a clear reason why His disciples will be hated and mistreated. “A disciple is not above His teacher, nor a servant above His master.” Certainly a learner is not above the one who is teaching him, or someone who is serving above the one whom he’s serving. Clear enough. And now Jesus puts the focus on what He’s already been called and hatefully labeled by the Pharisees. He gets specific and personal. He tells them, He has been called “Beelzebul”, or the prince of demons as we see in Matthew 9:34. We later learn in Chapter 12 from Jesus that He attributes this prince of demons to Satan Himself. So consider this: If Jesus, the sinless and always-loving Teacher and Master is being labeled, dare we say cancelled, as Satan himself, then how much more will Jesus’ students and servants within His own household experience this?

But here we see Jesus’ first exhortation in verse 26, “So have no fear of them.” Who is “them” referring to? Those who would hatefully label, cancel, and malign His followers. Don’t fear the smear of others. Instead, Jesus says since all things will be revealed in the end anyway, the light of the good news of Jesus and the kingdom must not be hidden, but shared and proclaimed in all our lives.

We just heard Pastor Jacob preach from Mark 14 and 15 of Peter and Pilate and the way they feared the smear of others and allowed it to turn them away from Jesus. (Thankfully, for Peter, he repented and was graciously restored and used mightily!)  In both cases, with Peter denying Christ and Pilate seeking to satisfy the crowd,  we saw they did not shine the light of Christ, when the opportunity presented itself.

  1. Secondly, don’t fear the spear. Jesus says in verse 28, “And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.” In the midst of risking one’s life to make Christ known and let His light shine, there is a limit to what can be done to us. We, thankfully, don’t know much of this type of persecution for the sake of Christ in this country. However, our brothers and sisters around the world know it. Listen to these words from a typical Chinese house church interaction with security police when faced with threats like these. This came from a book, “The Insanity of God” by Nic Ripkin:

Security police – “When we take your property (where they were meeting to worship), you and your family will have nowhere to live!’”

House church believers – “Then we will be free to trust God for shelter as well as for our daily bread.”

Security police – “If you keep this up, we will beat you!

House church believers – “Then we will be free to trust Jesus for healing!”

Security police – “And then we will put you in prison!

House church believers – “Then we will be free to preach the good news of Jesus to the captives, to set them free. We will be free to plant churches in prison.”

Security police – “If you try to do that, we will kill you!”

House church believers – “Then we will be free to go to heaven and be with Jesus forever!“

 

How does one get to this level of boldness? By following the One Jesus gives us to fear.

  1. Fear and love the Overseer of sparrows and our souls.

To fear God seems to mean these two things together. One, on our own, considering God’s holiness, unlimited power, righteousness, and justice, we know we are sinners deserving instant destruction. But at the same time, this holy, all-powerful, righteous, just God has loved you in the most generous way possible by sending His Son to die in your place, to bring you an enemy into His forever, loving family! In light of these two truths, we have a rightful fear, awe, reverence of His unequaled power, and a shalom and Fatherly calm knowing we as outsiders have been made insiders by faith in Jesus’ precious blood, shed for us!

But we do fear people and fall into that snare. We do fear death, and live in protection mode. We cower at the cancellers of our culture and those who could ruin or snuff out our lives.

But the good news of this message is not ourselves, our abilities, our performance, or our achievements. No, the good news we proclaim is our champion. We proclaim the King of heaven who became a Child of earth. We proclaim the Child who grew and chose death on the cross. We proclaim the Chosen One who was crucified and yet triumphed and cheated death.

He chose and challenges you today to not fear the smear of man. He says, don’t fear the spear of death. He tells us to fear Him – the founder of our faith and the lover of your soul who laid down His own life to make you free, so you’d live free! He wants you to live free from the fear of death; free from the hateful words and lies of people.

Think about this, the only One with the power, not only over your life, but also your eternal home, is the One who didn’t even spare His own Son for You, but came and laid down His life that You might belong in His house forever!

So how do we live out fearing God? We don’t hide, and blend into the world. In all places of our lives we acknowledge Jesus. We’re made right with God through faith alone, by God’s grace alone, in Christ alone, to the glory of God alone. But true faith is never alone; true faith always acts and acknowledges Jesus Christ before others. This acknowledgement demonstrates trust and fear in our triune God alone. If He cares for sparrows, how much more does He care for us – those He’s purchased through the blood of His own Son? He’s promised that our fearing Him through bold acknowledgement of Him as King, Lord, treasure of our lives means that He’ll acknowledge us before His Father. But if we deny Him or have denied Him, we must repent because the promise goes the other way also. Apart from repentance and faith in Him, an enduring denial of Him will mean He’ll deny us before His Father. So let’s look to Christ as our joy and share our greatest treasure with others.

Lord, build in us a holy fear of you that spurs us to obedience to speak and acknowledge You and rests in our loving acceptance in Christ.

The Mission of the Impeccable Christ Illustrated

Last week I highlighted the scandalous nature of the gospel. There, we saw that the gospel is scandalous in that not only is righteous, innocent Jesus condemned to die, but also, via his cross and his resurrection, Jesus sets the guilty free and makes the guilty righteous. We see this scandalous gospel live and in living color in a familiar narrative: when Jesus is condemned and Barabbas is set free. To draw out the scandal, we will follow Matthew and consider Barabbas’ notorious or well-known reputation (Matthew 27:16) over against Jesus’ reputation. Then we will consider the great exchange of the notorious sinner and the impeccably righteous Jesus. And finally, we will revel in the hope this offers us.

 

Barabbas Is Notorious for Sin

Mark notes that Barabbas, is imprisoned, “among the rebels…who had committed murder in the insurrection” (Mark 15:6–7). Luke observes that Barabbas “had been thrown in prison for an insurrection started in the city and for murder” (Luke 23:19). John says he was a robber (John 18:40). This term robber in the biblical context, is often associated violence. In the OT, it is associated with raiding bandits or highwaymen and with all manner of sin, including murder (Hosea 7:1; Obadiah 5; Jeremiah 7:8–11). So what is Barabbas notorious for? Barabbas is notorious for being a violent rebel against authority. Indeed, he could even be notorious for instigating or fomenting violent insurrection (Luke 23:19). Barabbas is notorious for murder. Barabbas is notorious for robbery. In short, Barabbas is notorious for sin—sin against God and sin against his fellowman.

Now consider Jesus.

 

Jesus Is Notorious for Righteousness

A survey of the gospels make clear what Jesus is well-known or notorious for in his context. Jesus is notorious for healing the sick. Jesus is notorious for making the lame walk. Jesus is notorious for opening blind eyes and deaf ears. Jesus is notorious for exercising divine, miraculous, physics-defying authority over nature. Jesus is notorious for feeding the hungry. Jesus is notorious for casting out demons. Jesus is notorious for raising the dead. Jesus is notorious for exposing and confronting injustice and sin. Jesus is notorious for forgiving sin. In short, Jesus is notorious for his righteousness.

 

The Great Exchange

Here in this prisoner swap of Barabbas and Jesus, we see the gospel. The notoriously sinful Barabbas goes free. And the notoriously righteous Jesus is condemned. Barabbas is guilty. Barabbas should have died on that cross. But Barabbas’ sentence is commuted. Barabbas goes free. Barabbas is considered not guilty and treated as such. On the other hand, Jesus is innocent. Jesus should have gone free and lived. But Jesus’ perfectly righteous, innocent life is condemned. Jesus is considered guilty and is treated as such. This picture of the gospel ultimately breaks down, though. And this is where the scandalous nature of the gospel that we highlighted last week bursts forth even more.

 

The Even More Scandalous Gospel: The Impeccable Jesus Becomes Sin and You Become Impeccably Righteous

In this scene of Barabbas being set free, we only get a picture of the true gospel reality. Why? How? Well, what does everyone else recognize about Barabbas when he goes free? What is still true of him? He is still guilty. His guilt remains. Barabbas is only being considered and treated as not guilty. But he is inherently guilty. That is where this picture breaks down. Because what does the gospel say? The gospel of Jesus Christ says this, “Not only are you free, but you are righteous!” And we are tempted to say, “No I am guilty! Look at what I’ve done!” The gospel’s responds, “Righteous!” In the gospel of Jesus Christ, we are not only free, our sentence is not simply commuted, but we are declared righteous and transformed into the very righteousness of God: For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5:21). And there is more.

Jesus worked righteousness but he also never sinned. And not only did Jesus always overcome temptation and sin, but Jesus was also incapable of sinning. Jesus was impeccable. Theologian William Shedd describes Jesus’ impeccability as his being able to not only overcome temptation, but also his being unable to be overcome by temptation.[1] And through his substitutionary atonement, by becoming the curse for us (Galatians 3:13), by becoming our sin on the cross, Jesus completely paid our debt (Colossians 3:14). Jesus gave his life as a ransom so that we might become the righteousness of God (Mark 10:45; 2 Corinthians 5:21). So because of Jesus’ work, we are like, are becoming like, and will become like him (Romans 8:29; 2 Corinthians 3:18; 1 John 3:2). This is a monumental promise and unfading hope for those in Jesus. The sin that we continue to struggle with, even in our divinely declared righteous state, will end. We will one day be free from all remnants of our sinful flesh. Sin will no longer exist, and we will be unable to sin. Impeccable Jesus’ mission was and is to make us impeccable.

 

Enduring Hope

When we see notoriously sinful Barabbas walking free and notoriously righteous, impeccable Jesus condemned to die, we see the gospel. But we also know that the gospel is even better than what that limited scene communicates. We were like Barabbas in that scene. But where Barabbas remained guilty, we in Jesus are being made impeccably righteous. Impeccable Jesus’ mission was to make you and me impeccable. Mission accomplished. We walk in that reality imperfectly now, but we will see that reality perfectly fulfilled when he returns. For this reason we cry, “Come, Lord Jesus.”

[1] William G.T. Shedd, Dogmatic Theology, ed. Alan W. Gomes, Third Edition. (Phillipsburg, N.J.: P&R Publishing, 2005), 659, https://heritagebooks.org/products/dogmatic-theology-third-edition-shedd.html.

The Scandalous Gospel

In D.A. Carson’s 2010 book Scandalous: The Cross and Resurrection of Jesus, he observes four ironies of the cross: (1) At the cross Jesus the King is mocked as king, (2) At the cross Jesus is utterly powerless, though he is powerful, (3) At the cross Jesus can’t save himself but saves others, and (4) At the cross Jesus cries out in despair but trusts in God. These ironies at the cross begin to get at the nature of the scandal of the crucifixion of Jesus. Something that is scandalous is something that shocks our sense of propriety or even seems to fly in the face of our collective sense of morality. Perhaps the sentence that most directly expresses the irony and the scandal of the entire reality of the cross is, “Imagine anything as scandalous as a crucified Messiah!” (139). A savior, let alone a savior who is meant to not only deliver but reign forever as King, should not die helplessly. This is scandalous. Well, keep in mind that this overall scandalous event is multifaceted in its implications with regard to our salvation. There are details that must be teased out and understood to fully appreciate what God has done for us in the cross of Jesus. And be warned, these details are also quite scandalous.

I want to highlight three scandalous details of the gospel.

 

Jesus the Righteous Condemned as Guilty

We cannot recognize the scandal of the cross without recognizing the righteousness of Jesus. Jesus was without sin. He was the only man with “clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false and does not swear deceitfully” (Psalm 24:4; 1 Peter 2:22). He was and is the only man who can ascend the mountain of the YHWH (Psalm 24:3). But not only was Jesus sinless in his earthly life. Jesus was also perfectly righteous in his works. “He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil” (Acts 10:38). Jesus was revealed to be and found to be righteous, innocent, and guiltless before men (Matthew 27:19; 23; Mark 15:14; Luke 23:4; John 18:38). And yet, righteous, innocent Jesus was condemned as guilty and crucified. This is scandalous. And the even more shocking reality is that Jesus the righteous actually became the very opposite of righteousness at the cross. He who knew no sin became sin (2 Corinthians 5:21). This is scandalous.

 

The Guilty Set Free

Built into the OT promise of the coming Messiah was that he would “proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of prison to those who are bound” (Isaiah 61:1). Jesus came to fulfill this prophesy (Luke 4:18). Guilty man lay bound, imprisoned, and enslaved by sin (Galatians 3:22; Romans 6:17). In reality, man’s enslavement and imprisonment to sin is his own doing. Man is rightly imprisoned under sin because man is guilty! But Jesus came to set the guilty sinner free through the forgiveness of sin (Romans 6:7, 18, 22).  At the cross, Jesus breaks the chains of the guilty sinner, and he sets the guilty free. This is scandalous.

 

The Guilty Made Righteous

Perhaps one of the more shocking realities of the gospel is that those who are guilty are actually transformed into the opposite. At the cross, the guilty are not set free simply because they were suddenly found to actually be innocent, as if the original conviction was based on faulty evidence. At the cross, the guilty are not set free and, yet, despite their freedom, still considered inherently guilty in the eyes of God and man, as if a sentence were merely commuted. The cross is more shocking than this. At the cross, the guilty are actually made righteous (2 Corinthians 5:21). Jesus’ righteousness becomes the guilty’s righteousness. God does not look at the guilty in the courtroom of his divine judgment and say, “You’re free to go, but still guilty!” God does not look at the guilty and say, “I find you not guilty because there is not enough evidence to convict.” God does not look at the guilty and say, “You are guilty, but I will simply consider you not guilty.” Rather, for those in Christ, God looks at the guilty in the courtroom of his divine judgment, and looking at the cross of Jesus he says, “Not guilty. And not only are you not guilty, but you are actually righteous!” This is scandalous.

 

The Scandalous Gospel, Our Salvation

In the gospel, Jesus the righteous and innocent, became sin by dying on the cross in the place of the guilty in order to both set the guilty sinner free and make the guilty righteous. This gospel is scandalous. But for the Christian, this scandalous gospel is our salvation, and it is glorious.

The Cup of Salvation and the Cup of Wrath

12 What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits to me? 13 I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord,

Psalm 116:12–13

 

What are the benefits the Lord has given to us? Well they are certainly many and varied. But they are bound up in the cup of salvation. How did we get that cup?

This weekend, I will be preaching out of Mark 14, focusing on verses 12–52. Here in this passage, we see a spectacular exchange. King Jesus gives us his cup of God’s salvation, and he takes and drinks our cup that was full to the brim of God’s wrath for sin.

In Mark 14:22–25 we see Jesus institute the Last Supper. He gives to his followers the cup of the new covenant that he says points to his blood, which is poured out for many (Mark 14:24). Of course his blood is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins (Matthew 26:28). It is Jesus’ sacrifice, his blood, that atoned for the sins of his people. His sacrifice cleanses sinful men from all uncleannesses (Ezekiel 36:25). His sacrifice, his blood, established a new covenant, a covenant of peace between God and his people that will prove to be the everlasting covenant that every Old Testament covenant and sacrifice pointed to (Jeremiah 31:31; Ezekiel 37:16). This table that Jesus’ followers sit at in Mark 14:22–25 turns out to be not simply a table that commemorates God’s past redemption of his people from slavery in Egypt. This table turns out to be the table of God’s salvation for all peoples, whom he will redeem out of slavery to sin and death. This is even more remarkable when we consider the guest list of those who were invited to this table.

Mark 14:22–25 is hemmed in on each side with a look at those who are at this table. First, in Mark 14:17–21, we see that Judas is at this table. The very one who will betray Jesus, handing him over to his death. A traitor sits at this table. And in Mark 14:26–31, we see that the other disciples aren’t what we might expect as guests either. They, Jesus says, are deserters. They will all fall away from him. They will abandon him. Jesus shares this table with one he knows will betray him and never come back to him, and he shares it with those he know will abandon him in his most distressing hour. Yet, even in light of this unlikely guest list, Jesus patiently shares his table with sinners, and he offers the cup of his salvation to all. We may wonder at this, the cup of God’s salvation offered to sinful rebellious man, but as the story progresses, we see that it inspires even more wonder. For there is another cup that must be attended too. The cup of God’s wrath for sin.

Jesus will not resist his betrayer, who proves not to be one of his own (John 6:64, 70–71; 17:12) rather he will give himself over willingly. Indeed, he as the model disciple of his Father, chooses not to hold onto his own life (Mark 8:34–35). Why? In order to serve his brothers and “give his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45).” How would he do this? We’ve seen the first step—he gives his people the cup of his salvation. And now, Jesus will take the sinners cup full to the brim of God’s wrath for sin, and he will drink it to the dregs. We see a picture of Jesus’ faithfulness to do this in Gethsemane.

In Mark 14:32–42, Jesus wrestles with God. We see him in his full humanity express his desire to see the cup of God’s wrath pass from him. And we see the man Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God, overcome the temptation to abandon God’s will when he submits completely to God’s will. He does so knowing it means utter rejection by man — including his closest friends —, physical torment, and torturous death. But more than that, it also means being forsaken by his Father. He must drink the poisonous cocktail of God’s cup of judgment mingled together with all sins, small and great. And when he does, he who knew no sin will become sin. And he will become the object of his Abba Father’s fiery wrath. And yet, in full knowledge of this, he says, “Yet not what I will, but what you will” (Mark 14:36).

It is here in Gethsemane that we see Jesus take the first drink from the cup and begin to taste the first flavors of its bitterness. Judas betrays him and man despises him. And his own people, Peter, James, John, and the others, despise and reject him. They hide their faces from him. And they esteem him not (Isaiah 53:3). They choose instead to hold onto their lives, thinking they are saving themselves, by they fleeing from Jesus (Mark 14:50–52). In reality, though, Jesus saves their lives by giving his when drains the full cup of God’s wrath in its full-bodied bitterness on the cross — “Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied; by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities” (Isaiah 53:11).

What are the benefits the Lord has given to us? It is not less than the forgiveness of our sins contained in the cup of his salvation. He offers us this cup in Jesus, who took our sinners’ cup, full of God’s wrath and drank all of it for us. Jesus gives us the cup of his salvation and drinks the sinners’ cup, our cup, of God’s wrath.

What is the right response to such a benefit? What can we do? What shall we render back to the Lord? Ask for more. Lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord (Psalm 116:13).