In the telling of the destruction of Jerusalem (70 AD), in ‘the Jewish Wars’, renown Jewish historian Flavius Jospehus recounts a situation in which several Roman soldiers, having already made their way into certain breaches within the outer wall of the temple complex became surrounded by fire and by the Jews to the point where the only escape would be to jump off the precipice to safety.
One solider, named Longus, while thinking of jumping, was urged by his brother Cornellius (also a solider) not to do such a thing and thereby bring disgrace upon himself and his army. The young solider agrees, and instead of surrendering or jumping slays himself rather than give into the Jews.
Meanwhile, another soldier named Artorius, facing a similar predicament, called to a fellow soldier, Lucius, a close friend of his, promising that if he could catch him from the jump Artorius would give Lucius his entire inheritance and land etc. So Lucius rushed over to catch him, and upon doing so hit the ground so hard that he ends up dying while Artorius walks away unharmed.
Now this horrific story awoke within me a great many thoughts about the nature of friendship and rescue. Sometimes we rush to help people who are jumping off cliffs and simply want to use us to break their fall. Sometimes we are the ones who call upon friends to help us out of a jam, only to use them for a time and forget all they did for us. We are selfish people by nature. We want to preserve our own lives and use others to our own benefit but rarely think to repay them for their kindness.
But no matter how we treat others or how good or self-sacrificing our friends are, they can never really solve our deepest needs. In fact, some of our needs are so profound that we’d only crush them under their weight.
As I pondered this passage this morning, what really struck me was the need we all have to be rescued, and how Christ’s rescue is so much better than that of our best friends, and even our spouses. Through the fire and war Artorius jumped into the arms of his friend, a human savior, promising him everything he could think to promise him. Christ’s rescue is not simply more successful, it is carried out of his own strength and grace and initiative. For he is able to bear the weight of our burdens our sin with perfect poise.
So there are two ways in which Christ perfectly bears my burdens. First, Christ carried the weight of my sin upon Himself on the cross, bearing in His own body the stripes that were due me for my sinfulness. The weights of our sins do not overpower His strength, and that is a wonderful truth – he has “overcome the world” (John 16). He has risen victorious over these burdens and crushed death to death.
But what is more, Christ Himself calls us to cast our daily burdens on Him. He doesn’t simply come when we call, but calls us to Himself and enables us to jump. Such is the gift of faith that He imparts to us (Eph. 2); such is the love of our rescuer. This faith was given us at our salvation point, but is also dispensed to us every day and is free for the asking. He wants us to lay our burdens upon Him.
Samuel Rutherford said, “Lay all your loads and your weights by faith upon Christ. Ease yourself, and let Him bear all. He can, He does, He will bear you.”
This is the image I want to carry with me through troubles and snares and difficulties: My savior standing ready to catch me, calling me to Himself, fully able to break my fall if I will only but resign myself to His arms. I only need look to the millions He’s safely caught; His track record is perfect, and His love beckons me on.