Matthew Chapter 08 - Christus Victor

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MATTHEW 8:23-34

IN 1942, DURING WORLD WAR II, C. S. Lewis published his book The Screwtape Letters. The book, as you likely know, is an inverted allegory. It’s a group of letters by Screwtape, a high-ranking demon, to Wormwood, an under-devil, about how to cunningly lead someone to Hell. When the book first came to America, it was a great success. It sold well and received great reviews. For example, in the 1948 edition I have, there is a review from The Atlantic Monthly that reads, “This witty and sincere book has been deserv­edly popular here.”

The same popular acclaim has come to director Jeffery Fiske and actor Max McLean for their stage rendition of Lewis’s book. The play sold out quickly and consistently in New York, Washington, and Chicago, and critics described it as entertaining but also thought-provoking. Jayne Blanchard of the Washington Times wrote, “No matter what your religion, ‘The Screwtape Letters’ may set you to thinking about your own eternal soul” (April 25, 2008). Chris Jones of the Chicago Tribune wrote, “The main takeaway: re­member the devil really exists” (October 14, 2008).

Yet I have found that such critics, readers, and playgoers (whatever they may think about their eternal souls or the devil) fall prey ironically to precisely what Lewis exhorts us not to—complacency with spiritual realities. Max McLean, who played Screwtape and who is a Christian, when asked what he wanted the audi­ence to walk away with, hoped that people would “take Satan very seriously.”

But we don’t. Our culture certainly doesn’t. We might say something like, “It brings the devil out in him” when talking about the effects of an ad­diction, but we are more prone to look for a scientific (often psychological) explanation for compulsions, obsessions, disorders, and sin. In his 2002 State of the Union Address, President George W. Bush was strongly criticized by some for referring to Iran, Iraq, and North Korea as “the axis of evil” because the term “evil” implies there are moral categories to reality and perhaps there is something or someone evil behind the evil. Imagine if he were to call the work of 9/11 “evil,” or the tsunami not “an act of God” but a “deed of the evil.” Few people talk that way today—not even religious Presidents. Few people give credit where credit might very well be due. This is because most people today, whether they liked Lewis’s clever book or not, miss the point of it. The belief of many is not that God is dead in our society (most people today believe in God), but it is that the evil is apparently as frozen as a finally-frozen-over Hell.

However, in this passage we are reminded that the evil is very much alive. But so is Jesus. What we’ll see with these two miracle stories is more than just Jesus’ control of chaos but his defeat of evil. We will witness the beginnings of his crushing the serpent’s head, to borrow the image from Genesis 3:15. We will see Christus Victor, which is the famous Latin theological phrase for our theme—Christ’s victory over the forces of evil in this world.

The Main Lesson

“Well, that’s all nice. But what does this have to do with me? What is the main lesson we are to derive from this?”

Does the main lesson have to do with discipleship? Instead of being thanked, Jesus is “unwelcomed by those whose religious or economic se­curity is threatened.” Is the lesson therefore that as we bring the gospel to hostile regions of the world, we should likewise expect rejection and possibly persecution? Yes, that is a lesson. But here, unlike the previous pas­sage, discipleship is not the main emphasis.

Well then, what about the pigs? Is the main lesson something as simple and catchy as (here’s a good talk title)—people before pigs? Unlike the townspeople are we to care more about the fate of people (those two men) than what happens to the poor pigs? Is that the lesson? Again there is a real lesson in that. We should value people over pigs and any of our possessions, even our most prized ones. On this point Daniel Doriani writes:

There are people who don’t want toddlers to enter their homes because they don’t want them to drool on the table or touch the antiques. They have not learned the lesson of the pigs. There are people who will not spend their money or use their property to meet human needs because they are afraid of depleting their assets. They have not learned the lesson of the pigs. People are more important than possessions.

That is indeed a lesson, and so it’s good if you resolve today to take the plastic off the couches and let the grandkids drool on them if they must. That’s good. That’s what church and talks are for—real life change. “People before pigs" is an important lesson.

These lessons that we have surveyed are all good lessons, but they all focus on the wrong character in the story. This is not a story about the towns-people or the disciples or the pigs or even the possessed men and their restoration (notice how little is said about them and about their response). This story is about Jesus. He is the central character on which we are to center. This story is about Jesus’ identity.

What Kind of Man?

Look at verse 27. After Jesus rose and rebuked the wind and waves, the men on the boat “marveled, saying, ‘What sort of a man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?”’ In other words, “Who is this?”

In 14:33, the next time the disciples are on a boat—the time when they see Jesus walking on the water—they will answer their own question, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” Peter will also answer this question in 16:15, 16. To Jesus' question, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter gives his “blessed” reply, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (v. 17). Another time this question is answered is by Jesus himself. When Jesus is on trial, the high priest asks, “Tell us if you are... the Son of God,” to which our Lord said, “It is as you have said” (my slight paraphrase of 26:64). The final time Jesus’ identity is straightforwardly revealed comes ironically from the lips of the centurion at the cross. After witnessing Jesus’ sufferings and death, a centurion and those who were with him "were filled with awe and said, ‘Truly this was the Son of God!”’ (27:54).

However, before all those confessions of faith, it is ironically the possessed who first announce to the disciples just who Jesus is. Theophylact said it this way: “While the men in the boat are doubting what manner of man this is... the demons come to tell them.” The demons cried out, "What have you to do with us, O Son of God?” (8:29a). There it is—the main lesson for us today: Jesus is indeed the Son of God!

The possessed believe that Jesus is the Son of God, but as James 2:19 claims, they shudder. “Have you come here to torment us before the time?” (8:29b). They shudder because “their belief is that of recognition but not ac­ceptance, and they fully realize the consequence of rejecting God’s son.”

When I was in college, once a week I would go over to the local commu­nity college and ask students to take a religious survey. One of the questions I asked was, “Who do you think Jesus is?” Now, this survey was done maybe sixteen years ago, so I don't know if students today would answer the same way as they did then. But back then at least half would actually say, “Jesus... umm... he’s the Son of God.” Most of them answered like they were answer­ing a trivia question. The tone in their reply was an interrogative—“The Son of God, right?” Their tone was also sadly disinterested. Whether he was or is the Son of God meant little to them personally.

But it’s no little thing to say, “Jesus is the Son of God.” This is not merely a matter of intellectual adherence. It’s a matter of allegiance. If I acknowledge that he is the Son of God in my head, then that information needs to travel to my heart, hands, and feet. I need to love him, serve him, and walk in his ways. I need to count the cost and follow him (remember 8:18-22). The disciples saw these two miracles with their own eyes, and their eventual admission that Jesus is God’s Son meant their total allegiance and their commitment to Christ unto death. Thus in this passage the possesed say Jesus is the Son of God, but the disciples see it. I want us to see it as well. I want us to see in verses 23-34 that Jesus is the Son of God because he acts as only God can act. He rules over creation. He judges evil. He saves his people.

Son of God—He Rules Creation

First, Jesus rules over creation.

Some have pointed out that Jesus’ sleeping in the boat shows us his hu­manity. He was a real man. He got tired, so he fell asleep just as real human beings fall asleep. While I think Jesus was and is truly and fully human, and while I think in some sense this miracle shows the two cardinal doctrines of the person of Christ—“his true humanity (he sleeps) and his true sonship (he commands wind and sea)”—here, as throughout our text, it is Jesus full sonship that is on display. Even the sleeping “indicates not powerlessness but the fullness of absolute rule.” The idea is that only someone who has everything under control could sleep during a storm like this. But whatever we do with the sleeping, we’ll let that sleep, for the rest of the passage is up and at ‘em! It’s alive and in our face regarding Jesus’ divine power.

In the Bible only God controls the sea. Consider Psalm 89:8, 9: “O Lord God of hosts, who is mighty as you are, O Lord... ? You rule the raging of the sea; when its waves rise, you still them” (cp. Psalm 107:23-30; 65:5-8), or Job 18:8-11, where God speaks about the “prescribed limits” he has put on the sea: “Thus far shall you come, and no farther, and here shall your proud waves be stayed.”

In our text, notice that Jesus doesn’t pray to God to stop the storm. He addresses the storm directly. Jesus says to the waves, “Play dead,” and they, like an obedient dog, lie flat. It’s as if creation recognizes his voice. It’s as if “all things hold together... by the word of his power” (Colossians 1:17; Hebrews 1:3). Stilling a storm—have you ever seen anyone do that? That's power! That’s authority! That’s something that only God could do.

Son of God—He Judges Evil

Only God can rule over creation. Jesus, as God’s Son, does just that. But also, as only God can do, he judges. He judges evil. The possesed know and fear this, which is why they cry out in terror, “Have you come here to torment us before the time?” (8:29b). They know that Jesus is the appointed judge who will judge at the appointed time. One day “He will come to judge the living and dead”. According to D. A. Carson, this judicial role “confirms the fullest meaning of ‘Son of God.’” But I think that Jesus’ answer to their question, “Have you come here to torment us before the time?” is actually, “Yes.” (Here we have some realized eschatol­ogy.) While it might look like an act of mercy, it is truly an act of judgment. They ask to be sent into those dirty pigs, and Jesus allows it. But notice what happens. The pigs don’t just go about their business, doing what pigs do. Rather, they stampede off the cliff into the sea! Yes, that same sea that almost swallowed up Jesus and his disciples. But unlike the disciples, these possessed go into the sea and disappear into the depths. I see this drowning in the sea to be Jesus’ present judgment of them. Jesus’ one word—“Go”—stands out, especially if you have a red-lettered Bible. With one little word, the madness is judged by God’s Son.

Son of God—He Saves People

Jesus proves to be God’s Son in that he (1) rules creation, (2) judges evil, and finally (3) saves his people. In chapter 8 our Lord saves the leper, the slave, the woman, and many others from their illnesses. He saves the disciples from drowning. He saves the possessed men from their madness. He thus shows himself to be the Savior.

However there is more to Jesus’ mission than these smaller salvations in chapter 8. There’s also the cross of chapter 27. When Mary, the mother of our Lord, learned that she would bear a son, the angel Gabriel announced the nature of her Son’s mission: “and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins” (1:21). That salvation from sins happens not when Jesus stretches out his arms to still the sea, but when he stretched them out on the cross to die for you and me.

The title “Son of God” is used of Jesus nine times in Matthew’s Gospel. I have talked about all of them but one in this chapter. The one other time is while he is on the cross and those who passed by him derided him, saying, “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross” (27:40). Just like the temptor when he tempted our Lord in 4:1-11, here those who pass by think that if Jesus is the Son of God he will come down off the cross, he will manifest his identity through worldly power. On the contrary, since he is the Son of God he will stay on that cross, for on the cross he will save his people from their sin.

Here’s the beauty of the Christian faith: “The reason the Son of God ap­peared was to destroy the works of the devil” (1 John 3:8b). That is what’s happening on the cross. It’s the ultimate miracle! The chaos of creation, the powers of evil, and the sins of you and me have been rebuked and removed on the cross. Christus Victor! Christ victorious over evil—the evils of sick­ness, sin, death, and the grave.

So, yes, we must take evil seriously. But we must also take Jesus seriously. For what sort of a man is this? This is the Son of God who rules creation, judges evil, and saves his people, and thus the one to whom all allegiance and adoration is due.

“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!... To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!” And the four living creatures said, “Amen!” (Revelation 5: 12-14)

 

(R. Kent Hughes. and Douglas Sean O'Donnell., 2013; edited Carl Hinton., 2020)

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