Who Do You Say That I Am? "The Anointed One"

When I was younger, I made a pretty big promise to myself. I will never be a minivan guy.

The minivan is the vehicle that says, I have completely given in to being a parent, right? So fast forward a few years. I'm holding on strong to the no minivan rule. But we have three kids, and all three kids are in car seats. And now we're in the market for a family car.

And so we go on vacation. And. And on vacation, I've got enough credit card points to rent a Suburban. And that thing was awesome. It was awesome.

I mean, they're huge. There's tons of power. We got enough room for our whole family, plus a basketball team. Like, it is a massive vehicle. And as you're driving around, you feel like you can run over all the other cars.

You're literally looking down on other people. It feels awesome, okay? And I thought, I need one of these in my life. So I go online and I spec one out, and then I see how much they cost.

Turns out I could get three vans for the price of the Suburban that we rented. And suddenly I'm faced with this deep philosophical dilemma. Do I take on a massive car payment, but look awesome driving around in a gas guzzling tank, or do I sell my soul and buy a minivan? And because I am a man of high standards and I know what I want, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get what I want, I bought a minivan.

Now, when we bought the van, I decided this would be a great learning opportunity to take my oldest along. So I brought my daughter along to learn how the negotiations go. And if you bought a car, you know how this works. You sit down at the little desk and the guy smiles at you and says he's there for you, he's not really there for you. Okay?

Then he disappears for 20 minutes to go talk to his manager. And then they come back, and then you say no. And then they go back to talk to their manager again. And you say no again. And then he goes to talk to the manager again.

And eventually the manager comes out to tell you that he can't do the thing that you've asked for either, because they're gonna lose money off of you. And so right in the middle of all this, both of those guys standing there, I look at Ada and I go, ada, these guys can hear me. I go, here's how this goes. This is the game. It is their job to sell this van for as much as they possibly can.

It's my job to buy it for as little as I possibly can. This is the game. It's just figuring out what this thing is worth to each of us. I decided that the Suburban was way outside of what was worth it to me. But now that I've decided to buy a minivan, the question is, how much is this vehicle actually worth to me?

And how much is it worth to them to get it off the lot, right? What's it actually worth? You may have heard that old saying, every man or everything has its price. We make decisions like that all the time. Cars, houses, baseball cards, a used piece of furniture off of Facebook, Marketplace, whatever it is.

We're making negotiations. But we don't just negotiate for stuff. We negotiate the price of our time and our comfort and our convenience too, don't we? If we're really honest, we also negotiate the price of much deeper things like our integrity and our character, things we would all say are incredibly valuable to us. But somehow we've all ended up selling them for far less than we would say that they were worth.

I've explained this to my kids several times over the years, usually after they've made a bad decision. Everything's a trade. Everything's a trade. Sometimes we trade our character for a cheap laugh. Sometimes we trade a relationship we say we value for the approval of a person we don't even like.

Every person. And everything has its price. And the enemy's strategy is to get us to sell ourselves for as little as possible. And it's our job to know the true value of things and refuse to sell them for anything less than what God says that they're worth. And today we're going to look at three scenes from Mark, chapter 14.

In Mark, chapter 14, we see three groups of people, each of them standing in front of Jesus, each deciding what he's worth to them, and each of them making a very different trade. And the value they place on Jesus flows directly from the answer that they give to the question that's at the center of the series. Who do you say that I am? Because the way we understand Jesus identity always determines the value we place on him. Mark intentionally places these scenes back to back to back.

He's not just putting them in order because they're in order. He's purposely putting them back to back so that we can see all together, right after the other, the different valuations that these three make. Let's look at scene one, mark 14, verse one. Now, the Passover and the festival of unleavened bread were only two days away, and the chief Priests and the teachers of the law were scheming to arrest Jesus secretly and kill him. But not during the festival, they said, or the people may riot.

So Mark first points out that this is right before Passover. Passover was the one time every year that the Israelites remembered how God rescued them from captivity in Israel. God told his people to sacrifice a lamb and put the blood of that lamb on the doorpost of their homes. And when the angel of death passed through the area, the ones who had the blood over their door frame, they would be saved. The angel would pass over their home.

They were spared. And then immediately after Passover came the feast of Unleavened Bread. It was a seven day celebration when families removed all of the yeast in their home. And the whole point of this was to eat unleavened bread. That reminded them how quickly they had to leave Egypt.

They had to leave so quickly they didn't have time to let the bread rise. Well, together these two celebrations formed one of the most sacred weeks in all of the year. And so Jerusalem would have been overflowing with pilgrims that all came to swell into the city during this time. All there celebrating God's salvation and celebrating his faithfulness. And in the middle of that, the chief priests and teachers of the law, they've decided that Jesus is a huge problem for them.

And they're scheming to find a way to kill him. But they want to do it secretly. Why secretly? Because everybody loves Jesus. He's been performing miracles.

He has fed 5,000 and 4,000. They've heard him teach, and he teaches like nobody they've ever heard before. He casts out demons. And now they're starting to ask dangerous questions like could this really be the Messiah?

And here these guys are terrified. They're not wrestling with whether what they're doing is right. They're not worried about that. They're only worried about the timing and the public reaction of the decisions that they're making. This isn't about truth anymore.

It's about protecting their influence and position and power. And that's a trade that they're willing to make. They become so blinded that they're standing face to face with the Son of God. And they see him only as a threat. Because if Jesus really is the Messiah, then all of their power structure and system just collapses under their feet.

To them, Jesus has negative value. His very presence threatens what they value most. And so they make a trade. They trade truth for control. They trade justice for power.

They look to trade Jesus for their own position of Course, the irony is thick. During the very week when Israel is remembering how God saved them through the blood of a lamb, they're standing face to face with the Lamb of God, the one who will take away the sins of the world, and they're plotting to kill him, and they don't even see it. Well, then, Mark takes us to scene 2. Mark 14, verse 3. When Jesus was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume made of pure nard.

She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head. Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year's wages and the money given to the poor. And they rebuked her harshly. Leave her alone.

Jesus said, why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you'll always have with you, and you can help them anytime you want, but you will not always have me. She did what she could do. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial.

Truly, I tell you, wherever the Gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told in memory of her. Now, there's a lot going on to note here. First, notice where this is happening. This is in Bethany. It's a town a couple miles outside of Jerusalem.

It's a town where Lazarus, Mary and Martha are from. And it's the place where Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead not too long before this. And the dinner is happening at the guy at the home of a guy named Simon the Leper. Now, we can be pretty sure that he doesn't have leprosy at this point. Nobody's going to come to a dinner party at the house of a leper.

So we're probably talking about a guy who was healed from leprosy, which Simon. Oh, remember Simon that used to have leprosy? That doesn't. Simon the leper. And I think that Jesus healed him.

The Bible doesn't say it, but I think there's a clue that we hear in the Book of John here in just a minute. So most likely he used to have leprosy. Matthew and John also tell us another detail. John gives us a few more details, including the identity of the woman who poured out the perfume. John 12, verse 1.

Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Here a dinner was given in Jesus honor. That's why I think Jesus healed Simon. Why would Simon give a dinner in Jesus honor? Martha served while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him.

And Mary took about a pint of Piernard, an expensive perfume. She poured it on Jesus feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. So John tells us the woman who performs this act of devotion, this is Mary, the sister of Lazarus and Martha. Which makes this moment even more powerful, because every time we meet Mary in the Gospels, she ends up at the same place, at the feet of Jesus.

The first time we meet her is in Luke, chapter 10. Mary and Martha. They're hosting Jesus and some others. Martha is frantically running around preparing things. Mary chose to sit at Jesus feet to learn from him.

And Martha storms in and says, jesus, what the heck, man? Tell her to go back in the kitchen and help me. And Jesus says, she's chosen the better thing. The second time we see Mary is in John, chapter 11, Lazarus. They've sent word that Lazarus is sick, but Jesus shows up too late.

And when Jesus gets there, Lazarus is dead. And Mary comes out sobbing and throws herself at his feet and says, lord, if you had only been here, my brother would still be alive. Alive. Of course, after that, he raises him from the dead. But in both of these scenes, we see Mary's hope and attention and affection are all centered on Jesus.

Everything in her life points to points towards Jesus. And now here we are in the third scene, and Mary again finds herself at the feet of Jesus pouring something out. This time she brings with her an alabaster jar from filled with pure nard, a perfume Mark says is worth more than a year's wages. It comes nard comes from the root of a plant that only grows in the Himalayan mountains. So that would be from 3,000 miles away.

This would be a highly prized possession, maybe something that was handed down to her from her parents. We don't know how she got something that was worth so much. It's probably her whole life savings. And shockingly, she breaks the jar and pours the entire thing out on Jesus from his head to his feet. And John tells us the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

Her devotion fills the room. But the people in the room, well, they have a strong reaction. Why this waste? Don't you know how much that was worth that could have been sold and given to the poor? And on the surface, that sounds pretty reasonable, doesn't it?

I mean, I think I would be the one saying this is not economically responsible, right? It Sounds practical. It sounds like the right thing to consider. But John tells us who's leading this objection. John 12:4.

But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected. Why wasn't this perfume sold? And the money given to the poor? It was worth a year's wages. Wow.

You really care about the poor, Judas. Except John says he did not say this because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief. As keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it. The loudest voice in the room, complaining about waste. He's the one who's stealing.

He's the same man who's about to sell Jesus out. Mary pours out a year's wages because she believes Jesus is worth everything. Judas is only out for himself. And everyone else sees Mary's offering as waste. But Jesus calls it beautiful.

Jesus says, leave her alone. She has done a beautiful thing to me. What the room calls waste, Jesus calls beautiful. The same act, two completely different valuations. Why?

Because they're each using a very different scale. The people in the room are using the scale of the world and economics. What could this have been sold for? What else could this money have gone to do? How could this have helped me?

But Mary's using the scale of affection. And when you measure things on that scale, you come up with a totally different result. The question is no longer what did this cost? The question is, what is he worth? To Mary, Jesus is worth everything.

He brought her brother back from the dead. She sees Jesus as priceless. He's worth more than the perfume, more than her reputation, more than anything she could ever consider holding back. The commentator Daniel Akin puts it into perspective for us. This is what he says.

This was done in full display of a room full of people. It was done against cultural convention, as a woman normally would not approach a man in the setting except to serve him food. Mary cared not one whit for any of this. Jesus was her lord and master. She deeply loved him and would have done anything for him.

And she did not care who heard or saw. Her devotion to him trumped all others. She wanted everyone to know the inestimable value she placed on Jesus. So she went public. No one could deny or doubt where her loyalty lay.

And then Jesus says something crazy. He says, wherever the Gospel is shared throughout the whole world, what she has done will also be told in memory of her. The Bible never says that about anyone else or anything. And then Mark brings us to the third scene.

Mark 14:10. Then Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve, went to the chief priests to betray Jesus to them. They were delighted to hear this and promised to give him money. So he watched for an opportunity to hand him over. Matthew tells us he sold Jesus out for 30 pieces of silver.

What equates to today just a few thousand dollars. Judas could only see Jesus for what Jesus could do for him. He's stuck around waiting for Jesus to rise up, to provide power, glory, position, wealth. And Jesus disappoints him on all fronts. So Judas immediately after this, he's had enough.

But he's seen the miracles. He's walked with Jesus for three years. When he first met Jesus, he was willing to give up everything to follow him. But now he betrays him for 30 pieces of silver. Three scenes, three very different valuations.

But I don't want us to miss that. Mark isn't just putting these scenes out there so we can recognize and analyze how they valued Jesus. Mark is giving us these scenes in front of us like a mirror, so that we're forced to ask the harder question of ourselves. What do we value most?

Now the enemy tries to convince us that we're passive. Sorry, I skipped the line here. Every day, in countless small decisions, we're making trades that reveal the answer to that question. What do we value most? How we spend our time.

What occupies our minds, where our money goes, our attitudes and habits. All of them are quietly revealing what we value most. And the enemy tries to convince us that we're passive participants in these traits, that they kind of happen to us from the outside. We tell ourselves we're just reacting to circumstances. The enemy tempted me.

Someone else tripped me up. I didn't have enough time, enough money, enough margin. But the sobering truth in the Bible is that every trade we make, from the small, seemingly insignificant, to the much bigger, obvious reshaping of our lives, decisions that we make, all of them, they start on the inside. Jesus says it this way in Mark 7. For it is from within, out of a person's heart, that evil thoughts come.

Sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and defile a person. This is why Solomon, at the end of his life, as he's trying to write down the most powerful wise words that he can pass along to his children. And he says this in Proverbs 4:20. My son, pay attention to what I say.

Turn your ear to my words. Do not let them out of your sight. Keep them within Your heart, for they are life to those who find them, and health to one's whole body. What is it? What is it?

Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it. Every trade we make is simply the fruit of growing in the soil of our hearts. And all that can grow in the soil of our hearts is what we actually truly love.

So if we love comfort, we'll trade everything for ease. If we love control, we'll trade trust for anxiety. If we love approval, we'll trade integrity for acceptance. But if we love Jesus, if we really love Jesus, when his beauty and his worth take root in us, then what grows out of our hearts is lavish devotion poured out freely. It's worship that looks like waste to the rest of the world, but Jesus calls beautiful.

When Jesus is at the center of our affection, then everything that we're asked to trade for him is not worth it. And everything that we're asked to get rid of for him, it's worth nothing. But all too often, like Judas and like the teachers of the law, we allow so many other seeds to germinate in the soil of our hearts, don't we? Money, power, control, self interest, comfort, pleasure. And with each trade, we are proving that Jesus isn't worth it.

Mary pours out everything because she sees Jesus as priceless. Judas sells him out because in his heart something else has become far more valuable to him. I've used this quote so many times. It's so good. From Dallas Willard.

When we see Jesus as he truly is, we must turn away or else shamelessly adore him.

In the book of Revelation, the risen heavenly Jesus gives seven messages to seven different real churches. And in chapter two, we find his message to the church in Ephesus. This was a strong church. It was a hardworking church, a doctrinally careful church. They were doing many things right.

Jesus actually commends them for their perseverance, their discernment, their refusal to tolerate false teaching. But then he says something absolutely devastating.

Chapter 2, verse 4. Jesus says, But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first. Remember therefore, from where you have fallen. Repent and do the works you did at first. If not, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place unless you repent.

Somewhere along the way, their hearts had shifted. They were still doing good things. They were still active, still busy, still serving. But the seed inside the soil of their hearts had changed. And I think if we're honest, when we hear those words, most of us can immediately Think of some way that we've done this, too.

Ways we've drifted, ways we've made, trades we once said we would never make. And Jesus, his call is clear to us. Repent. Remember where you have fallen from. Remember where you used to be, and return to the love you had.

At first, at one time, if someone asked you what you would be willing to trade for your integrity or your character, your answer would have been, nothing. It's priceless to me. But then a moment showed up where suddenly the trade felt worth it. Maybe it was cheating on a test. Maybe it was padding a resume or exaggerating a qualification so that you could get a job.

Maybe it was cutting a corner at work because nobody else was looking. Maybe it's bending the numbers when you file your taxes. And just like that, something we said was priceless got placed on the negotiating table. Parents, think about the moment that you held your child for the first time. And if someone had asked you in that moment, what would you be willing to trade for your relationship with that little one?

You would have said, nothing. It's priceless. But over time, the trades creep in, don't they? Presence gets traded for distraction. An unresolved conflict makes it so that you haven't spoken to them in 25 years.

Attention gets traded for screens. Patience gets traded for irritation. Time together gets traded for work or schedules or endless hobbies and busyness.

Husbands, wives. As you walk down the aisle, if someone had stopped you right in the middle and said, what would you be willing to trade for this relationship right here? You would say, nothing. It's priceless to me. But over time, the trades creep in.

The football game became more important than the conversation you know that you ought to be having. Work emails got more attention than your spouse. A lingering conversation with someone of the opposite sex, a little attention that feels flattering. A moment of temptation that suddenly feels easier to justify when it never was before. And slowly, something that once felt sacred, something you said was priceless, gets slid up onto the negotiating table.

How about all of us who have given our lives to Jesus, that moment that we stepped up to confess him as Lord and Savior, and someone said, what would you be willing to trade this relationship for right now? What would you be willing to trade your salvation for? And you would say, nothing. It's priceless.

And slowly, quietly, almost without noticing, things get traded.

That's what Jesus is confronting in Revelation. The church in Ephesus is still active. They show up to church on Sunday. They smile and sing the songs they might serve in kids ministry, they're still doing good things, but somewhere along the way, the seed in the soil of their hearts has been replaced. The love that once fueled their devotion has been replaced with routine.

And notice Jesus doesn't say what I expect him to say. Well, get up, Josh. Get to work. Try harder. Look yourself in the mirror and say, you can do this today, be better.

Josh, that's not what he says. He says something far more hopeful. He says, remember, repent and return. Remember the love. Just think back.

Remember the love that you had at first. Repent of the trades you've made along the way and return to the devotion that used to flow effortlessly from you.

But still we hit a moment of conviction like this, and we think, if I just get myself together, I can do this. I'll be more perfect.

But here's the thing.

The Bible shows us something very different. The Bible shows us our devotion to Jesus and our obedience to him don't flow from our perfection. They flow from our affection. Let me say that again. Our obedience and devotion don't flow from perfection.

They flow from affection. Whatever we find most worthy is what takes root in our hearts and grows. Remember your first love. Remember when you were dating and enamored and you would drive six hours to bring ice cream of her favorite flavor to wherever she was just so that she might give you one look. And Jesus is saying, remember.

Remember your first love.

So here's what I want us to do. I want us each to think about just one, just one, one area of our lives that we have allowed a different, lesser seed to germinate in our hearts, where we've traded our affection for Jesus for something of far less value. Maybe it's comfort. Maybe it's approval. Maybe it's money or control or sexual sin.

Maybe it's a habit that you just keep going back to. Maybe it's a relationship or a pattern that just is slowly killing those old seeds. You know the place, that place where, if you're honest, something that should have been priceless was put up on the negotiating table.

And here's the invitation. Remember, repent and return. Remember the love you had at first. Repent of the trades you've made along the way and return to the devotion that once flowed from freely. And here is the beautiful promise of the Gospel.

It could be the 7,000th time, but if you turn around, the Bible describes it like a dad who has a son that runs off and squanders everything he has, and he is at the bottom of his, and he has nothing left. And he thinks, maybe I can go back and be a servant in my father's house. And he heads home, hoping that his dad might just even accept him anywhere near him. And as he comes, man, his father is scanning the horizon, waiting, waiting for his son to come. And when he sees him off in the distance, he runs to him with his arms open wide.

And he has kept a place, a seat for him on the porch and the light on. And he throws his arms around him and throws a party for him. And it says, my son who was lost, has returned. That's the promise of the gospel. It's not a promise that if you show up and you're shiny and new and right and perfect, he'll take you back.

It's the promise that says, even as you are right now, if you just remember, repent and return. There he is. There he is.

So we're gonna have our prayer team on either side of the room. We're gonna sing. We're gonna share communion together. We're gonna sing another song. And throughout this whole time, our prayer team is gonna be on either side of the room.

And if today you're ready, you're right on the edge of that thing, and you know it's time to confess, then maybe this is a perfect person, a loving, trusting person that you could go and just lay it down and say, I know the thing. I want to repent today. Maybe you just need prayer. Maybe it can't come out of your mouth yet. Maybe you're not ready.

Maybe you just need to allow them to pray over you. You and encourage you become the Father. This is not some cute story that preachers tell to make you feel better. The Father is watching the horizon, longing. Longing for you to just crest the hill.

So come, come, we're going to sing this song. Who else is worthy? No one is worthy of the soil of our heart like Jes Is.