Seeing Jesus Throughout the Bible

Jesus and Abraham

Abram was far from perfect. There were times when he trusted the Egyptians before he trusted God. He even lied, telling Pharaoh that his wife was his sister. But Abram made one decision that changed his eternal life: He “believed God, and it was credited to him as righteousness” (Romans 4:3).

Here is a man justified by faith before his circumcision, before the law, before Moses and the Ten Commandments. Here is a man justified by faith before the cross! The sin-covering blood of Calvary extends as far into the past as it does into the future.

Abram is not the only Old Testament hero to cast himself upon God’s grace. We must not see grace as a provision made after the law had failed. Grace was offered before the law was revealed. Indeed, grace was offered before man was created! (1 Peter 1:18-20)

Jesus in the Sin Offerings

The annual event always drew a crowd. The priest would solemnly ascend the temple steps, cradling in his arms a lamb. As the people waited outside, he would pass through the great curtain and enter the Most Holy Place. He would kill the lamb upon the altar and pray that the blood would appease God. The sins would be rolled back. And the people would sigh with relief.

A great curtain hung as a reminder of the distance between God and man. It was like a deep chasm that no one could breach. Man on his island… quarantined because of sin.

God could have left it like that. He could have left the people isolated.

But He didn’t.

God Himself breached the chasm. In the darkness of an eclipsed sun, He and a Lamb stood in the Most Holy Place. He laid the Lamb on the altar. Not the lamb of a priest or a Jew or a shepherd, but the Lamb of God. The angels hushed as the blood of the Sufficient Sacrifice began to fall on the golden altar. Where had dripped the blood of lambs, now dripped the blood of life.

“Behold the Lamb of God.”

And then it happened. God turned and looked one last time at the curtain.

“No more.” And it was torn…from top to bottom. Ripped in two.

Jesus Our Healer

February 15, 1921. New York City. The operating room of the Kane Summit Hospital. A doctor is performing an appendectomy.

In many ways the events leading to the surgery are uneventful. The diagnosis is clear: an inflamed appendix. Dr. Evan O’Neill Kane is performing the surgery. This surgery will be uneventful in all ways except two.

The first novelty of this operation? The use of local anesthesia in major surgery. The second is the patient. The courageous candidate for surgery by Dr. Kane was…Dr. Kane.

To prove a certain point, Dr Kane operated on himself! A wise move. The doctor became a patient in order to convince the patients to trust the doctor.

The story of the doctor who became his own patient is mild compared to the story of the God who became human. So that you and I would believe that the Healer knows our hurts, Jesus voluntarily became one of us. He placed Himself in our position. He suffered our pains and felt our fears.

Rejection? He felt it. Temptation? He knew it. Loneliness? He experienced it. Death? He tasted it. And stress? He could write a best-selling book about it.

Why did He do it? One reason. So that when you hurt you will go to Him – your Father and Your Physician – and let Him heal.

Jesus Our Savior

Imagine I’ve invited you for a day of sailing. You begin to worry when you notice that I lift the sail only a few inches on the mast. You think it even stranger that I position myself behind the partially raised sail and begin to blow.

“Why don’t you raise the sail?” you ask.

“Because I can’t blow on the whole thing,” I pant.

“Let the wind blow it,” you urge.

“Oh, I can’t do that. I’m sailing this boat by myself.”

Those are the words of a legalist, huffing and puffing to push his vessel to heaven.

With time, you and I drift out to sea, and a powerful storm hits. “I’m going to set the anchor!” I yell. You’re relieved that I at least know where the anchor is, but then you are stunned at where I put it. First, I take the anchor and set it up near the bow. “That should steady the boat!” I shout.

But, of course, it doesn’t. Next, I carry the anchor to the stern. “Now we are secure!” But the bouncing continues. I hang the anchor on the mast, but it doesn’t help. Finally, in fear and frustration, you take the anchor and throw it out to the deep and scream, “Don’t you know you have to anchor to something other than yourself!”

A legalist doesn’t know that. He anchors only to himself. His security comes from what he does. He will save himself. After all, isn’t he in the right group? Doesn’t he have the right law? And hasn’t he passed through the right initiation?

Here is the point: Salvation is God’s business. God is the One who saves His children. There is only one name under heaven that has the power to save, and that name is not yours.

Jesus is the Church’s Foundation

Could someone build a temple and forget why? Could someone construct a palace, yet forget the king? Could someone sculpt a tribute and forget the hero? You answer those questions. Answer them in a church. The next time you enter an assembly of worship, position yourself where you can see the people. Then decide.

You can tell the ones who remember the slain One. They’re wide-eyed and expectant. They’re children watching the unwrapping of a gift.

You can also tell the ones who see only the temple. Their eyes wander. Their feet shuffle. Their hands doodle, and their mouths open – not to sing, but to yawn.

The temple gazers don’t mean to be bored. They love the church. They can cite its programs and praise its pastors. They don’t mean to grow stale. They put on hats and hose and coats and ties and come every week. But still, something is missing. The One they once planned to honor hasn’t been seen in a while.

But those who have seen Him can’t seem to forget Him. They find Him, often in spite of the temple rather than because of it. They brush the dust away and stand ever impressed before His tomb – His empty tomb.

The temple builders and the Savior seekers You’ll find them both in the same church, on the same pew – at times, even in the same suit. One sees the structure and says, “Oh, what a great church.” The other sees the Savior and says, “Oh, what a great Christ!” Which do you see?

Jesus is King of Kings

You are in your car driving home. Thoughts wander to the game you want to see or meal you want to eat, when suddenly a sound unlike any you’ve ever heard fills the air. The sound is high above you. A trumpet? A choir? You don’t know, but you want to know. So you pull over, get out of your car, and look up.

And what you see has never before been seen.

As if the sky were a curtain, the drapes of the atmosphere part. A brilliant light spills onto the earth. There are no shadows. None. From whence comes the light also begins to tumble a river of color – spiking crystals of every hue ever seen and a million more never seen. Riding on the flow is an endless fleet of angels. They pass through the curtains one myriad at a time, until they occupy every square inch of the sky. Thousands of silvery wings rise and fall in unison, and over the sound of the trumpets, you can hear the cherubim and seraphim changing, “Holy, holy, holy.”

The final flank of angels is followed by 24 silver-bearded elders and a multitude of souls who join the angels in worship. Presently the movement stops, and the trumpets are silent, leaving only the triumphant triplet: “Holy, holy, holy.” Between each word is a pause. With each word, a profound reverence. You hear your voice join in the chorus. You don’t know why you say the words, but you know you must.

Suddenly, the heavens are quiet. All is quiet. The angels turn, you turn, the entire world turns – and there He is. Jesus. Through waves of light, you see the silhouetted figure of Christ the King. He is atop a great stallion, and the stallion is atop a billowing cloud. He opens His mouth, and you are surrounded by His declaration: “I am the Alpha and the Omega” (Rev. 22:13).

The angels bow their heads. The elders remove their crowns. And before you is a figure so consuming that you know – instantly you know – nothing else matters. Forget stock markets and school reports. Sales meetings and football games. Nothing is newsworthy. All that mattered, matters no more, for Christ has come.

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Content in this article is taken from the Lucado Encouraging Word Bible

The Lucado Encouraging Word Bible

The Lucado Encouraging Word Bible is an exhilarating experience. As you read, you’ll uncover a saga of suspense and intrigue. Flip over a few pages and find poetry and romance. Turn the pages again and read tales of clashing conquerors, brave shepherds, and a captivating Carpenter. Chronicles of faith, miracles, misdeeds, and good deeds. Kings, queens, peasants—the uncommon and the commonplace. Mystery, suspense, intrigue, drama, humor, poetry, romance…it’s all in these pages. Stories of real people, with real problems, real joys, and a real Savior. All of that, plus some distinctive features will help you see that what happened on these pages is still happening today—that the truths of old are truths for our age. Click here to learn more