“Then he…laid it in a tomb that was hewn out of the rock, where no one had ever lain before.” Luke 23.53 NKJV
Jesus pioneered death for His people, drinking it to the full, taking its sting and gifting the benefits to us, His Church. This GodMan, the Creator, the Breath of Life Himself, was laid in a brand new tomb that had never been used before. And if anyone ever used it again, they certainly didn’t use it like Jesus did. He used it to kick in the gates of Hell and Death, take back their keys, and pillage them of souls that belonged to Him—leading even captivity captive in a victory march to the great white throne of grace to bow before the Ancient of Days.
The Breath of Life Himself, the one who had created all that has been created, the Father’s agent and intermediary, committed His Spirit into the Father’s hands for this mission. He grieved at having been forsaken by the Father, but there could be no turning back. He put His faith in the fact that there is nothing in heaven or earth that can stop resurrection power. He walked alone where no other man could, and being blameless, death could not hold Him. By the power of an incorruptible life, He was raised and is now seated in glory at the Father’s right hand, interceding for the saints, we the people of His Church.
And these prayers rise like incense.
When Jesus formed man from the dust of the earth, He breathed the breath of life into his nostrils—not his lips—and this detail is important for lots of reasons. The one I want to major on today is how the olfactory sense is the one most closely tied to memory for us. Catch the scent of something poignant and you’ll be instantly transported to a time and place now out of the reach of every other part of you. But it is real nevertheless.
I believe we have a sense memory of the breath of God too. This is how we recognize His imprimatur when He calls to us. It is a heart-stopping, panicked reality check the first few times we catch His scent. As we yield, however, we find that we have developed a taste for Life. Then, however spastic our efforts and however often we must seemingly go through places hewn from rock where only Jesus has dared to tread before, we at least try to run to Him.
The cool thing is that our prayers rise like incense before Him, and a return is made. We get to fill His nostrils with the sweet savor of a life lived to His glory, in beautiful submission to His perfect will. Our petitions rise like sweet smoke before Him as we ask to receive whatever we need to accomplish His work among those He has given to us down here for a little while.
There is something of beauty in this soli deo gloria way, this sweet savor of the breath of life accomplishing the purpose for which it was sent and rising as beautiful return before the throne as we live and move and find our being in the one true God, living our one-shot life as only each one of us can before that great cloud of witnesses, the greatest of whom rent the veil and plundered the grave for each of us.
As for me, I will bow then as I bow now before my God and King because whether I stand with the saints or in solitude, I belong to Him, which means that I stand not on my own works but His.
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