Charles Spurgeon once told the story of an ancient Saxon king who had the reputation among his tiny kingdom as being the fairest and most loving king that had ever lived. The people loved him, and he loved them.
One day, the king discovered that money was being stolen from his treasury, so he gathered his people and announced, “You know I care about you, and if you have needs, let me know, and I’ll try to help you. But you can’t steal money from my treasury. That’s sabotage.” But every day, money continued to be stolen, so the king made a decree: “Though it breaks my heart, whoever is caught stealing from this treasury will be whipped with ten lashes.”
Several weeks passed by and money continued to be stolen. The king upped the penalty to twenty lashes. Still, money was stolen. The king once again doubled the penalty to forty lashes—which was, in essence, the death penalty.
According to the story, two days after this decree, the thief was caught red-handed. It was the king’s mother.
So the people wondered, “What will the king do?” Some people thought he would punish her—that was the just thing to do. But others asked, “How could such a loving king kill his own mother?” Others thought he would let her go—that was the loving thing to do. But there seemed no way for the king to be both just and loving in this case. He had to choose.
The king asked for a couple of days to think it over, and when he emerged, he decreed that the law was the law, and the punishment had to be given. So, they took the king’s mother out to the whipping post, tied her up, ripped open the back of her shirt, and the guard raised his whip to bring down the first lash.
But just before he did, the king said, “Stop.” And the king walked over, looked lovingly at his mother, then took off his royal robe and laid it aside. Then, he wrapped his body around hers. He looked back at the guard and said, “Now you may hit her.”
The guard objected, “But I can’t. If I bring down this lash, I’ll hit you.” The king said, “I’ve given you an order. Do it.” And so the guard did, but every single lash went into the king’s body, and not one touched the mother. And so the king fully lived up to his reputation of being the fairest king ever to live, and also the most loving.
I’m not sure Spurgeon’s Saxon king was completely historical. But I am sure of this: His wisdom and sacrifice shows us a picture of what God did for us on the cross. God couldn’t send an angel or lesser god to die for us, like other religions teach. No one but God himself could take on the punishment for our sins. God absorbed the penalty of his own wrath into himself so that he could give us forgiveness.
In Romans 3:26, Paul writes that at the cross, God demonstrated his righteousness so that he could both satisfy the full demands of his justice and save his people. Justice and love. Fairness and mercy. The Bible uses the term “propitiation” to describe the satisfaction of God’s wrath, or the cause for God’s anger being taken away. Paul says that it’s because of God’s grace, through the work of Christ Jesus, that God’s wrath against us has been taken away.
Many today think that God is supposed to be a God of love. We can’t imagine the same God being wrathful, because we think wrath is the opposite of love. Far from it: Without his wrath, we have a shallow view of God’s love for us. In fact, when we love something, we hate whatever destroys it.
Think of all the destruction in the world, all the sickness, the pain, the broken relationships, the betrayals, the abuse. How do you feel about all of that? You probably feel a bit like God does: You hate it. God hates the sin and brokenness that have marred this world—not because he hates the world, but because he loves it. If my daughter were to get cancer, I wouldn’t have a hands-off approach to the situation. I’d be furious at the cancer, hating it with every fiber of my being. Why? Because I hate what destroys those that I love.
If God were to ignore sin and injustice, he would be unjust. More than that, he would be unloving.
The beauty of the gospel is that God enacts justice in a way that also shows mercy. He offers the forgiveness of sins as he absorbs the wages of sin himself, dying on the cross in the place of his people.
Because God is just, his wrath against sin must be exercised. Because God is loving, he chooses to take that wrath into his own body so that we may be free.
And that is the kind of God I want to follow.
