Which one do you want?

You’ve heard the question plenty of times before — which piece of cake, which movie to watch, which jacket at the store, which car at the dealership, which candidate to vote for.  So how about this:

Which Jesus do you want?

It’s a real question, because people have … preferences. Opinions. Desires. Ideas. 

You’ve probably heard them expressed: 

• “Well, the Jesus I follow wouldn’t say something like … what you just quoted from the Bible.” 
• “To me, Jesus is just a really good friend, who’s there to comfort me when life is hard and to say, ‘You’re doing great! You’re perfect just the way you are!’ when I need encouragement.” 
• “I don’t want to believe in any kind of Jesus who has a problem with … this thing I feel strongly about.” 
• “I just wish Jesus would hurry up and come back and set things right once and for all — these people need to pay for the things they’ve been doing and saying!” 
• “Jesus is like an investment advisor: he keeps track of all the good things I do and tells me how much that’s going to be worth when I get to heaven.”

So … which Jesus do you want?

Now, you might already have an answer or objection for me:  “It’s not up to me, or anyone, to choose!” And that’s right: Who and what Jesus is is an objective reality, and our subjective desires or preferences have no effect on that. We can no more choose a Jesus than we can choose which sun is going to rise in the morning.

And thank God, because we would choose wrong. Because we are flawed and sinful human beings who make poor and selfish choices. And the Jesus we would choose would not be the one we need.

Of course, you — like me — probably wouldn’t choose a Christ who’s completely incompatible with the one we see in Scripture — but you — like me — would opt for one who has some of the real Savior’s characteristics and less or none of others. If you’re bothered by how the wicked seem to always be getting ahead, or by how certain people have wronged you and still seem to be doing great, you’ll want the Jesus who comes with fire and thunder and judgment to punish evil, but not the one who gives sinners time to repent and be forgiven. Or if you’ve rationalized certain things you’ve been doing that at some level you know are not according to God’s will and design, but aren’t “ready” yet to repent of, you’ll want the Jesus who hung out with sinners and tax collectors and who dealt gently with the Samaritan woman at the well, but not the one who judges and punishes sin. But neither of those is the right Jesus.

Isaiah’s prophecy here shows us that God’s Servant and Son does judge and punish evil, so, yes, he brings justice. But no, he doesn’t do it by loudly “owning” his opponents in the streets or calling down lightning from heaven.

And he is merciful, yes, even more, and wants no one to perish; he even brings hope to those who never knew to look for him. But no, he doesn’t turn a blind eye or treat sin as no big deal. He is called in righteousness to make people righteous, not to excuse selfishness, rebellion, or evil.

This is exactly the Jesus we and all the world require. He is the complete Christ, the perfect and delightful Deliverer who isprecisely who we needed him to be and who does precisely what his Father called and sent him to do.

And he did. The Lord’s Chosen One came and brought justice to the nations, not with a bullhorn or a bulldozer, but with a call to repentance backed by a promise of mercy and forgiveness. The Anointed One established justice on earth in a completely unexpected way: he went to to the guilty, exchanged their sin for his holiness, suffered the punishment that they were due, and left them in a state of perfect righteousness, returned to a right relationship with God, and qualified for eternity with him in paradise. He did not slack off, slow down, or run away from this mission that required him to sacrifice everything, even his own life on the cross, in order to save everyone.  Since the Creator and Lord of all things was not willing that sinners perish, he sent his Son to be their Substitute and deliver them from death and damnation — what they deserved — and give them life and joy instead — what Jesus deserved.

Christ was the only One who could do this:  he was both God and man, both all-powerful and vulnerable, both eternal and mortal, both perfect and able to take on every person’s every sin.  And since you and I are sinners — ungrateful, rebellious humans who choose our own will over God’s will, who pretend that our desires are more important than his wisdom, who take his love for granted and who love what we should flee from — we are the beneficiaries of what this Jesus we would never choose for ourselves did for the world.  You have been declared righteous for his sake. Your sins are all forgiven, washed away by the blood he shed on the cross. You have a home in heaven, and you will live there forever with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit — and until that day, you belong to God and he will be with you to bless and keep you.

This was God’s plan and Christ’s mission, and it wasn’t something for just the few — it was for all the world. His Father made him “a light for the Gentiles” — the One who would deliver them from the darkness of unbelief and sin — who would give sight to everyone who is unable to see their salvation, free them from the prison of serving themselves and Satan, and release them from the dark dungeon of ignorant arrogance. Thanks to the Holy Spirit’s work through the gospel — in the Bible and in baptism and the Lord’s Supper — that Light shines for and in you.  Your eyes are open. You have been freed from captivity and released from the darkness.

That’s what the real and only Jesus did for us, and what is ours — anyone’s — by putting our trust in him and his work. And so that’s the only Jesus we want.

But this raises another question:  Which Jesus do you want to follow — to imitate with your life, to praise God by being like?  Your answer to the earlier question — the Jesus you would choose — relates very closely to your answer to this question.

Because there’s a good chance that if you want a Jesus who thunders in judgment against other people’s sins, your inclination is to follow him by doing the same thing. And if you want a Jesus who compromises and says, “Hey, no big deal!” to sin, your inclination is to be the same way in your own life and with others.

But, as with Christ himself, this is not something we get to choose. Since baptism is on our minds today, let’s use these words from the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Romans to explain:

Jesus was baptized like us; the baptized are like Jesus. Who we are now is not who we were before; we are new creations in Christ, with new selves, led by the Spirit and not by our flesh. Christian character and behavior is defined by Christ’s character and behavior.

So what Jesus was and is — really is — is what those who follow him in faith will be. As he walked and talked, so we will walk and talk; whatever traits we see in him will be traits we have and want to have, things like:

• holiness, humility, 
• love, mercy, patience, truth,
• compassion, commitment, contentment, encouragement, self-control, 
• forgiveness, faithfulness, fearlessness, 
• selflessness, thankfulness, boldness, 
• service, submission, strength, zeal,
• innocence, integrity, impartiality, 
• generosity, honesty, purity.

If that sounds like a long list, it is — but that is the Jesus who saved us, so that’s the only Jesus we want to be like.

And it’s important to remember that a list like that is not a menu, buffet, or catalog from which we get to pick and choose: those traits are all aspects of the one thing that is being like Christ. There’s no place for the excuses we might have made for our old natures.  We can’t opt out of honesty, or embrace impurity or impatience as quirks of personality and say, “Well, that’s just the way I am.”

Honesty, though, does require us to admit that we fall short and struggle with some things more than others, because we still have sinful flesh that keeps us from being Christlike in all the ways that we have been created to be. So when we encounter descriptions of our Savior in Scripture, we ask, “What can I do to be more like him?”

Here, for instance, we know that while we can’t literally heal the blind or establish justice on the earth as he did, we can shine the light of the gospel to people lost in the darkness of sin and unbelief and show the guilty how Christ makes them righteous.  But it’s more than that, and more practical.

Have you ever watched a florist do a flower arrangement? What do you think she will do if a long-stemmed piece of greenery is damaged or bent over? She won’t use it — she’ll throw it aside and replace it, or at best break off the bruised part and keep the rest, because something with flaws doesn’t belong in her arrangement.

And most of us have lit and used candles before, maybe even an oil lamp. What do you do when the flame sputters and goes out and it just starts slowly smoking? You snuff it out — it’s not giving light anymore, so it’s no good — if anything, it’s dangerous to let it smolder. You put it out and make sure it’s out.

But that’s not the way Jesus our Savior is with us! Look at what these verses tell us: When he comes to bring forth justice and finds us bruised reeds and smoldering wicks, he doesn’t break us and he doesn’t snuff us out. He doesn’t demand that we clean up and stand up straight and faultless before he’ll save us.  He doesn’t require us to burn with devotion in order to gain his favor. No, our Savior meets us where we are and as we are and deals with us graciously, carefully, and tenderly when we need it — which is all the time.  

So if that’s the Savior’s way of dealing with bruised reeds — weak, vulnerable, flawed, damaged people — then we’ll treat such people similarly, won’t we?  And if his way of dealing with smoldering wicks — people who have been disappointed or broken by the church, whose understanding is shaky, whose commitment is flagging, whose faith is weak— then we’ll treat such people the way he does, right?

How will your life be different if you start seeing troublesome people, adversaries, and … weirdos as bruised reeds and smoldering wicks instead? That person who needs to always be right — what insecurity is that masking? That out and loud trans person — what fears, lies, or pains led to that, and what attitude and approach will most help lead him or her to a new and true identity in Christ? That young man who went to Christian schools who has been caught up in ungodly antisemitism or ugly misogyny — how can you fan into flame his smoldering faith so it burns away all the impurities?  That aunt or neighbor who seems to believe every conspiracy theory she hears — how can you use her need to make sense of a confusing world to point her to truth and certainty in Scripture and in Christ?  

We’re naturally inclined to be impatient with such people, to want to see them (or give them) what they’ve got coming, or just to keep them out of our lives as much as possible. But that’s not the way the Jesus we follow does it. So we’ll do better.  Because we know, if nothing else, that anyone so messed up, so misled, so wrong, needs their Savior so, so much — and we represent him to them.

And whenever we recognize that we ourselves have broken bruised reeds or snuffed out smoldering wicks, we turn again to Christ and his cross, repent of our sin, and enjoy his full and free forgiveness — not because we deserve it, but because God is gracious and merciful. 

John baptized in the Jordan River; here, it’s at the font. Think of the baptisms you have seen there or elsewhere. Now think of how well what happens there illustrates exactly what kind of Savior and salvation we’ve been talking about. The cleansing of Baptism is not a scrubbing or scouring. It doesn’t involve harsh soaps or detergents. It’s not a declaration of innocence and merit, but an acknowledgement of guilt and of desperate need for this “gracious water of life and washing of rebirth by the Holy Spirit”. In Baptism, the real filth of sin is taken seriously; it is not ignored, but is washed away by water with God’s Word — powerfully, but gently and freely.

That is grace. And that is how the real Jesus does it. He doesn’t wait for us to come to him and show ourselves worthy or tell us to meet him halfway; instead, he comes with gentleness, mercy, and love, and meets us as and where we are — weak, fragile, corrupt, in darkness — and freely gives us exactly the rescue we need. 

So, praise God that that’s the Jesus he sent us. That’s the Jesus we trust. That’s the Jesus we follow. Thank you, Lord!  Amen.