The message was in large letters for all passersby to read: “Jason Loves Megan Forever.”
I saw the words as I walked along the ocean front at Myrtle Beach. They were written in the sand. I passed that way later in the day after the tide had rolled in and back out. And that testimony of eternal love had washed away, perhaps like Jason’s love for Megan.John Keats thought his poems would vanish like Jason’s words of love. The poet died at age twenty-five, apparently from tuberculosis. He realized he was dying, and he feared his poems would die with him. Some three years before he died, Keats wrote a poem about his fear that begins:
Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain . . . (Keats)
he put additional words in memory of Keats:
This Grave contains all that was Mortal of a YOUNG ENGLISH POET Who on his Death Bed,
in the Malicious Power of his Enemies, Desired these Words to be engraved on his Tomb Stone
'Here lies One Whose Name was writ in Water.’
We like to think people will remember us after we’ve died. We do what we can to keep the names of our friends and loved ones from being “writ in Water.” Many churches around the world set aside today to honor the memory of the saints. When I say saints, I refer to all Christians. St. Paul frequently calls church members saints.
Writing to the Roman church, he says, To all God's beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints (1:7). He uses that expression [saint = Christian] in both letters to the Corinthians (1:1 and 1:2). The same term is in the first verse of Ephesians and Philippians and the second verse of Colossians. Philemon hosts a church in his house, and Paul commends Philemon for your love and of the faith which you have toward the Lord Jesus and all the saints.
In our Bible passage for today, Job is concerned that his words live on after him.
"Oh that my words were written!
Oh that they were inscribed in a book!
Oh that with an iron pen and lead
they were graven in the rock for ever! (19:23-24)
Unlike John Keats, Job is not interested in writing beautiful poetry. He wants to file a complaint against his wife, against his brothers, against his so-called friends, and -- yes -- against God.
You remember, Job’s adult sons and daughters are all killed when a tornado hits the home of the eldest son where they had gathered. Job had some eleven thousand head of camels and asses and sheep (1:3). But all these are taken from him by a band of rustlers and by a fire (1:13-19). On top of all that, Job loses his health (2:7-8).
He gets little consolation as he tries to come to grips with these losses. His wife says he ought to curse God and die (2:9). Then he is visited by three men who think of themselves as his friends, but they turn out to be harsh judges. They are sure all this is because Job is a great sinner, even though we are told up front, he is blameless and upright, one who feared God, and turned away from evil (1:1). Also, his brothers find him loathsome, his kinfolks have failed him, his intimate friends abhor him, his household servants have forgotten him, those he loved have turned against him (19:14-20).
The three critical friends take turns raking Job over the coals, insisting he is mistaken or just plain lying as he tries to justify himself in God’s sight.
Job's wish that his accusations were inscribed in a book, suggests engraving on thin copper plates which were an early form of books. And Job wishes he could carve his words permanently in lead or stone -- Oh that with an iron pen and lead they were graven in the rock for ever! (Watts et al 82).
Job wants to write a testimony, a word of assurance, of re-assurance, really. He is discouraged with everyone, but he believes he will see better days ahead.
We want to carve the names of deceased members of the Baraca Class on stone to preserve their memory and their honor, to prevent their names from being writ in water.
Job tells us the message he wants to inscribe on copper plates and carve into stone:
[25] For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at last he will stand upon the earth; [26] and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then [apart] from my flesh I shall see God, [27] whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.
If a person were bought into slavery over a debt, the kinsman redeemer was charged with buying the person back (Leviticus 25:48-49).
The most vivid biblical example of the kinsman redeemer is in the story of Ruth. Elimelech takes his wife Naomi and their two sons to live in the unneighborly land of Moab. The sons marry Moabite women, Orpah and Ruth. Elimelech dies in Moab, along with the two sons. This leaves three grieving widows. Naomi decides to go back to Bethlehem, and she urges the younger widows to stay with their own people. Orpah turns back, but Ruth vows eternal loyalty to Naomi:
"Entreat me not to leave you or to return from following you; for where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God; where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the LORD do so to me and more also if even death parts me from you."
We remember Ruth’s vow. But we may not recall that Naomi’s husband’s land passed into possession of close kinsman. Wise widow Naomi recruits another relative, Boaz, as kinsman redeemer in hopes of getting back her husband’s property. Boaz redeems the property and, in the process, marries Ruth. Then Boaz and Ruth have a son who one day will be the grandfather of King David.
Job reflects on this point of Jewish law as he grieves over loss of his children, his livestock, and his health. He longs for a kinsman redeemer to redress these wrongs. If he can find God and lay out his case, he believes the Lord will hear him and stand in as his kinsman Redeemer.
All through his story, Job wants the opportunity -- shall we say -- to redeem himself in God’s sight. He knows his cruel friends are wrong when they insist God is meting out punishment justly because of Job’s sin. Eliphaz, the first of his friends, speaks these words of judgment (Job 4:7-9):
"Think now, who that was innocent ever perished? Or where were the upright cut off?
As I have seen, those who plow iniquity and sow trouble reap the same.
By the breath of God they perish, and by the blast of his anger they are consumed.”
At times, Job wishes God would just take him away (6:8-10):
"O that I might have my request, and that God would grant my desire; that it would please God to crush me, that he would let loose his hand and cut me off! This would be my consolation; I would even exult in pain unsparing; for I have not denied the words of the Holy One. . . .
Job lies down at night, hoping for rest, but peace and rest do not come (7:13-16):
When I say, `My bed will comfort me, my couch will ease my complaint,'
then thou dost scare me with dreams and terrify me with visions,
so that I would choose strangling and death rather than my bones.
I loathe my life; I would not live for ever. Let me alone, for my days are a breath.
A second friend, Bildad, picks up the accusation where the first left off, insisting the pure of heart do not suffer (8:11):
"Can papyrus grow where there is no marsh? Can reeds flourish where there is no water?”
This is about the same as saying, “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
Zophar, the third friend, adds to the accusations, saying Job will never learn (11:12):
But a stupid man will get understanding, when a wild ass's colt is born a man.
He continues (11:14-17, 19):
If iniquity is in your hand, put it far away, and let not wickedness dwell in your tents.
Surely then you will lift up your face without blemish; you will be secure, and will not fear.
You will forget your misery; you will remember it as waters that have passed away. . . .
You will lie down, and none will make you afraid; many will entreat your favor.
Through it all, as his three enemy-friends harass him, Job longs for his kinsman redeemer, believing one day he will see God, either in this life or in a life to come:
[25] For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at last he will stand upon the earth; [26] and after my skin has been thus destroyed, then [apart] from my flesh I shall see God, [27] whom I shall see on my side, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.
In the wake of the death of someone dear, we have a deep sense of loss. When death comes even after a long life, we feel it keenly. We want to do whatever we can to preserve the memory, the personal and material assets. We may play the role of kinsman redeemer.
We lost six from Baraca since last All Saints Day, and I want to say a word about each of them. Not that they need a witness from me to justify them before God or before other people, but simply that their names are not “writ in water.”
Ray Fowler died in October of last year. Ray was a tenor singer in our Baraca Chorus. He also sang in the adult choir for the worship service. He had a gentle bearing, and he often expressed appreciation to me for the lesson. Ray and his wife Joanne came to Anderson from Ware Shoals. They joined our Anderson First Baptist in 1970. Ray was the youngest of those we honor today. He was 86.
Fred Waters was another faithful member of the Baraca Class and the Baraca Chorus. Fred was well-known for his trained horse who did various tricks. Fred and Ruth joined First Baptist in 1970, the same year as Ray and Joanne Fowler. Fred attended Baraca faithfully. Ruth started driving him to church and came with him to class after he had an accident that injured his hand and made it difficult for him to drive. Fred and Ruth’s daughter Joyce Murphy and her husband Jerry lived next door. The Murphy son, Mitch, was very close to Grandfather Fred. Ruth Waters died in October 2011, a little over a year before Fred. When Fred died in February of this year, he was 95.
Helen Davis and her husband Arthur joined our First Baptist Church exactly sixty-one years ago yesterday, on November second in 1952. She and Arthur were faithful Baraca Class members as long as their health permitted. Arthur preceded Helen in death. She died in March of this year at age 93.
Josephine Ray, known as Jo to her friends, died in September about six weeks ago. Jo was a familiar face for many Bi-Lo customers. She demonstrated food, cooking and giving samples to customers. I remember Jo from the time I became one of the Baraca teachers and later was asked to teach each Sunday. Jo and her daughter Joan Strickland were class regulars, often accompanied by a grandson. Jo Ray joined First Baptist nearly fifty-seven years ago in December 1956. She died at 93.
Francis Altman was a long-time Andersonian from the family who ran the Altman printing company. I’m not sure Francis was on the roll of our Baraca Class, but he attended from time to time. As long as he was able, he was a man-about-the-church, a faithful greeter and general fixer-upper. Francis was a Deacon Emeritus, and he was a Meals on Wheels volunteer for twenty-five years. He is survived by three daughters: Amy Roberts who lives in Williamston, Dorothy Kennedy in Waynesboro, Georgia; and June James, who lived with their father. Francis joined First Baptist in 1976. He was the same age as Jo Ray and Helen Davis. He died at 93.
Ed McCown died this past week. His funeral was Wednesday. Ed was baptized in First Baptist, Anderson, when he was ten years old, in June 1927, more than 86 years ago. Like the others we memorialize today, Ed was a longtime faithful member of the Baraca Class. He served on the police force for the City of Anderson and was police chief when he retired. His wife Jean preceded him in death. Their daughter Suzanne Moore is a member of First Baptist. She gave loving care for her mother and her father, as well as for her own husband, Jerry Moore, who died earlier this year. Pansy and I live on the same street as Ed and Jean. We remember Ed as a gardener. Each December, as long as he was able, he brought Pansy a mess of collards for New Year’s Day. Ed McCown was the eldest Baraca member who died in the past year. He was 96.
Each man and woman on our list left a rich heritage of faith and love, a good reputation among those who knew them. So there is little need to redeem their names in the community.
We don’t know the full degree of Job’s vision of the kinsman Redeemer who one day will speak for him and establish his innocence, but he ties that redemption in closely with seeing God for himself. So the kinsman Redeemer and God seem closely connected in Job’s mind.
The New Testament speaks of redemption,coming to full fruition in Jesus Christ. It uses two different metaphors to describe how we are redeemed. One picture is of the Jewish sacrificial system. The other is the slave market.
In the sacrificial system, animals were slaughtered and offered on the altar in the Temple for the remission of sin. Ephesians (1:7) and a parallel passage in Colossians (1:14), tell us, we have redemption through his blood. This reflects the work of the priests at the altar. The New Testament book of Hebrews goes into great detail with Christ as the great high priest. Through His death, He removed the necessity of continual animal sacrifice. Hebrews (9:11-12, 15) describes it this way:
But when Christ appeared as a high priest of the good things that have come, then through the greater and more perfect tent (not made with hands, that is, not of this creation) [12] he entered once for all into the Holy Place, taking not the blood of goats and calves but his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption.
The other picture of redemption is of being purchased from the slave market. Titus 2:14
speaks of Jesus who gave himself for us to redeem us from all iniquity and to purify for himself a people of his own who are zealous for good deeds.
So, both pictures -- the priestly sacrifice and the purchase and freeing of a slave -- present Christ as our kinsman Redeemer.
All those who have died in Christ -- and all of us who are alive in Christ -- give thanks for our kinsman Redeemer.
The nineteenth century songwriter Philip Bliss wrote “I Will Sing of My Redeemer” that picks up on the kinsman Redeemer from both the standpoint of Job’s hope and of fulfillment in Jesus:
On the cruel cross He suffered, From the curse to set me free.
In His boundless love and mercy, He the ransom freely gave.
On the cross He sealed my pardon, Paid the debt, and made me free.
(Christiansen).
We’ve thought about the youthful expression of love which was literally written in sand and washed away by the next tide.
We’ve thought about poet John Keats who feared his name might be “writ in water” and be swept down the stream of life.
We’ve thought about Job’s desire for his thoughts to be preserved in stone as he longed for his kinsman Redeemer.
We’ve thought about our beloved Baraca class members who died in the Lord during the past twelve months.
Finally, we think how all of us who look to Jesus Christ as our kinsman Redeemer will have our names written in the Lamb’s book of life (Philippians 4:3; Revelation 3:5; Revelation 13:8; 21:27).
Now, as we conclude this week’s Baraca Radio Sunday School Class from Anderson’s First Baptist Church, I pray that your name is not written in sand or in water but in the Lamb’s book of life. To that end, I challenge you to claim these promises:
God’s love that will never let you go.
God’s grace that is greater than all your sin.
God’s peace that passes all understanding.
These are yours through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
I Know That My Redeemer Lives
Job 19
Baraca Radio Class and Garden House
First Baptist Church, Anderson, South Carolina
November 3, 2013
The audio version of this message is available through the church website: www.andersonfbc.org.
Connie Ruth Christiansen, “Composer Philip Paul Bliss Writes I Will Sing of My Redeemer.” Share Faith. http://www.sharefaith.com/guide/Christian-Music/hymns-the-songs-and-the-stories/i-will-sing-of-my-redeemer-the-song-and-the-story.html
http://www.wholesomewords.org/biography/biobliss.html.
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