November 4, 2020
The Floodtide of Wrath
Psalm 69:1
On April 10, 1912, the Titanic set out to sea. It was billed as “the unsinkable ship,” some 66,000 tons of mechanics and magnificence. Five days later it sank through countless fathoms of water to the bottom of the sea. What happened? The Titanic struck an iceberg, which tore a three-hundred-foot gash in its side. The waters outside the ship came surging in—and the unsinkable ship was sunk.
Two thousand years ago, on a clear and starry night, in a remote Judean town, God launched a mighty vessel on the seas of time, an unsinkable ship indeed, engineered in eternity, to plans and blueprints drawn up before ever time began. The vessel itself was fashioned by the Holy Spirit in a virgins womb, It was launched with scarcely a ripple to disturb mankind. There, in the small village of Bethlehem, the Son of God became the Son of Man.
Seas of sin surged all around Him even as He opened His eyes. A monster of a man sat on the throne that was rightfully His, a man who tried to murder Him. But the would-be killer was too late; the ship had already gone.
He grew up in an ordinary home. His brothers and sisters had sin natures just like everyone else. He, however, in stark contrast, lived a sinless life. There was no crack, no flaw to be found in Him. As man He was innocent and beyond reproof; as God He was holy and absolutely without any taint of sin.
He plowed through the seas of time until He came to Calvary, and there the iceberg struck, and the seas of sin surged into His soul. He sank swiftly. Sin, (not His, but ours, for He Himself was without sin), was destroying Him, “Save Me, O God,” He said, “for the waters are come in unto my soul.” He who for countless ages had known sin as an omniscient observer now knew sin by becoming sin. “Save me!” He cried. He was answered by total silence. There was no Savior provided for Him. There was no Savior possible for Him if we were to be saved from sin.
Then, too, He felt that sin was defiling him. “Save me, O God… I sink in deep mire’ (Ps. 69:2). It was as though all the filthiness and all the impurity of the human race had been gathered together in one vast, stinking quagmire; and He was being plunged beneath its loathsome pose. The unbelievable horror of it had caused Him to sweat blood in Gethsemane and caused Him to cry in anguish at Golgotha.
But then, as though all that were not enough, He felt that sin was drowning Him: “Save me, O God… I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me. Down, down He went: and all God billows rolled over Him. Noah, in his day, had his ark; but Jesus was left to sink, abandoned by humanity and by God. Jonah cried from “the belly of hell” and was heard. Jesus cried in vain, “Save me!” He cried, No answer came. Instead, the tempest’s voice was heard. The wind shrieked across a sunless sea, and the angry waves of wrath built themselves into marching mountains. He who once had stilled the storm with a word, who once had walked upon the angry deep, now sank beneath the waves, dragged down by the inconceivable weight of a whole world’s sin.
And that seemed to be the end of it. He died and was taken down from the cross and put in a tomb. For three days and three nights the world continued to spin in space—a graveyard for His lifeless form.
Then:
Then:
Up from the grave He arose,
With a mighty triumph oer His foes;
He arose a victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever with His saints to reign.
Me arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!
With a mighty triumph oer His foes;
He arose a victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever with His saints to reign.
Me arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!