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Behold, the Goat of God

Several years ago something happened that really got my goat.  It began one fine Sunday morning as we made our way home from church.  As we turned the corner onto our street, we were shocked by what we saw in our front yard.  Police were everywhere.  My first fear was that our house was on fire.  But there was no smoke, no firemen, and no fire truck.  Then I saw the problem.  Our other car, which was parked in the driveway, had been wrecked.  A police officer at the scene told me to move along, but I explained that this was my house and the car that had been wrecked was mine.  So, he let me take a closer look. 

 

As I walked around the car, I spied the vehicle that had crashed into my car.  It had evidently cut through my front yard, struck my car, then crashed into the fence in my backyard.  Fortunately, the driver of the vehicle who damaged my property was not seriously injured.  I was happy about that.  But I was not happy about the damage to my property—especially when the at fault driver’s insurance agent informed me that their client had a medical condition that caused him to black out, which as she explained, her client could not be held responsible for his actions.  Someone had inflicted considerable damage to my property, and now I was being informed that I would have to pay for the damages.  I was not happy.  A better word might be angry, or outraged, or incensed.  You could say that the insurance adjuster really got my goat.  I was the one who had been wronged, yet I was going to have to be the one to pay for the wrong done against me.  I was being treated, not with respect or sympathy, but with disdain.  I was being regarded as the scapegoat. The fault, as well as the cost of the damages were being transferred to me, and the one who caused the damages was going to walk away.  It’s unfair to be sure, but it’s a pretty good picture of how God forgives us.  We commit sins against him—lots of them.  But we are not held responsible for our sins.  Those sins are transferred to a scapegoat.

 

On Yom Kipper, the Day of Atonement, two goats were brought before the high priest.  One of the goats was slain, and the other was sent away.  The goat that was sent away was known as the scapegoat.  The priest would lay his hands on the scapegoat, confessing the sins of the people as he did.  This effectively transferred the sins of the people to the scapegoat.  After the transfer of sins had taken place, someone would take the goat into the wilderness, or desert where it would be abandoned.

 

On the day that Yom Kippur points to, the day Jesus was condemned to death, Pilate sought to release
Jesus.  But the people didn’t want Jesus to be released.  Do you remember what they said in response to Pilate’s offer to release Jesus?  Yes, they did say “Crucify him.”  But just before they demanded the Jesus be crucified, they made another demand—“Away with him, away with him” (John 19:15).  The people wanted Jesus to be their scapegoat.  And so he was.  He was the Passover lamb that was slain.  He was the sacrificial goat that was slaughtered.  And he was the scapegoat who took our sins far away, never to return.  We can’t help but be amazed at the grace of God in what he did for us in Christ.  But we should also be amazed at something else—the wrath of God.  God was the injured party.  We are the ones who damaged him with our sins.  And yet, the responsibility as well as the penalty for our sins was transferred from us to Jesus.  And God treated Jesus as though he were guilty of every sin that was laid upon him.  The full wrath of the Father fell upon the Son.  Amazing.  Absolutely amazing.