Consequently, when Christ came into the world, he said, “Sacrifices and offerings you have not desired, but a body have you prepared for me; in burnt offerings and sin offerings you have taken no pleasure. Then I said, ‘Behold, I have come to do your will, O God, as it is written of me in the scroll of the book.’” Hebrews 10:5-7
I know a man, a good man, who took on a sizeable debt for a friend. What I mean by that is he borrowed the money, and he paid the friend’s debt because the friend could not pay it. The friend was free after that. The debt had no more attachment to her. She was dead to it, figuratively and legally. It would be great to be the friend, wouldn’t it? But it would be awful to be the guy who borrowed the money. He borrowed money to pay off someone else’s debt, a debt he didn’t run up, and then he worked how ever long it took to pay it off. It took three years, actually. That’s how long he worked that he would not have worked otherwise, and I’m not making up that timeline for effect. It’s the truth. He worked three years in order to pay back the money that covered the friend’s debt. I just want to be crystal clear about what happened.
By anybody’s measure, that’s a heckuva friend. That’s an entirely different deal than a rich person paying off a debt out of his or her abundance. You really couldn’t even call that a sacrifice. But borrowing and exposing yourself to all the risks that accompany going into debt is a lot to ask. In fact, it sounds foolhardy, doesn’t it? I wouldn’t want to do it. Would you?
I really believe we think of the Lord as a rich guy paying off our debt. Oh, I’m not saying we wouldn’t give all the right answers if asked. We’d say he became lowly and poor for our sakes. We’d acknowledge that he left all of Heaven’s riches. We’d stipulate to the incarnation and the cross, but I’m not sure we really get it. Let me just say I didn’t get it until I spent some time thinking about the man who put himself out there and worked so hard to pay his friend’s debt. I’ve been a Christian a lot of years, but his act of kindness was a revelation to me.
No, Jesus didn’t pay our debt out of the riches of Heaven. It was a lot more personal than that. The Lord took on a debt he had to work off with blood, sweat and tears. In a recent podcast on prayer, Pastor Jack Hayford made reference to the Lord praying in the garden – ironic, isn’t it? a garden? – until He was able to press through to God’s will, to wit, rescuing the human race. “Praying through” is a term we used to use a lot. Praying through is good. Pastor Hayford talked about how good it is when we pray through together. Many of us have been in those situations and would agree it’s very good. He talked about the Lord taking the disciples with him to the garden, to watch and pray with him through that terrible night. But they were sleepy, and so the Father sent angels to strengthen him in his task.
Isak Dinesen wrote a Gothic story about a sleepless young man who roamed the streets of his seaside town in the nighttime. One night he saw a lighted doorway at the end of an alley. He peered inside and saw a very ugly red-headed man counting money. Specifically, counting and recounting thirty pieces of silver. The young man told the red-headed man he could not sleep. It’s been many years since I read the story, but as I recall the red-headed man answered by saying all people do is sleep, the dolts. He remarked that they slept in the garden, the slackers. “I didn’t sleep,” he said. Chilling.
It was really extra nice of Jesus to put himself through all of that and bail us out. After all, he was free and clear – we were the ones who were in over our heads. There is something disturbing in thinking about these things, though, and that’s God’s expectation that we do likewise. About all I can say to that is, “Yikes!”
He paid a debt He did not owe.
I owed a debt I could not pay.
I needed someone to wash my sins away.
And now I sing a brand new song,
Amazing Grace.
Christ Jesus paid a debt that I could never pay.
My debt He paid upon the cross.
He cleansed my soul from all its dross.
I thought that one one could all my sins erase.
But now I sing a brand new song,
Amazing Grace.
Christ Jesus paid a debt that I could never pay.
O such great pain my Lord endured
When He my sinful soul secured.
I should have diedthere but Jesus took my place.
So now I sing a brand new song,
Amazing Grace.
Christ Jesus paid a debt that I could never pay.
He didn’t give to me a loan.
He gave Himself; now He’s my own.
He’s gone to Heaven to make for me a place.
And now I sing a brand new song,
Amazing Grace.
Christ Jesus paid a debt that I could never pay.