“It’s my pleasure.” The summer I spent working at Chick-fil-A drilled the phrase into my very being. As Chick-fil-A remains our family go-to on road trips (and as it seems my job these days consists of driving my sons to various sporting events in LA), I still smile upon hearing it as a customer. I love that the chain aspires for this phrase to be more than a motto or motif but rather an entire mode of life. It’s not hard to trace the motto to the source found in the person and work of Jesus Christ. It’s not only the reality that Jesus Christ finished the work of redemption, but also the way he did it that causes me to marvel and begs for me to model my life around his.
The Father’s Pleasure
Sometimes we erroneously think that God loves us because he sent his son, but God sent his son because he loves us. The difference may seem slight, but it is deeply significant. In the initial chapters of the Gospels, which cover the early days of the Incarnate Christ (both the early days of his birth and/or the early days of public ministry), we find the theme of the pleasure of God.
When the angels offered their heavenly birth announcement to the shepherds in the fields, they sang, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” (Luke 2:14, emphasis mine). The Greek word eudokia means goodwill, pleasure, favor, and even delight—an incredible message to an unexpected audience, both then and now. That same root word is later used by Jesus when speaking of his Father to the disciples: “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32, emphasis mine). The Father actually expresses the same delight directly to his Incarnate Son on the momentous occasion of his baptism in the Jordan. Before Christ had begun his earthly ministry or begun mounting the hill of Golgotha, the Father beams and bellows his delight in his son: “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased” (Mark 1:11, emphasis mine). This is yet another use of that same word, eudokia, but this time with an additional moniker of pleasure: agapetos, meaning “beloved” or “dearly loved.”
The Son’s Pleasure
The Son who received such a public commendation carried that pleasure both in his private thoughts and throughout his public ministry. In fact, that sense of God’s pleasure carried him to the cross on Calvary, just as his pleasure in the reward for his finished work held him on the cross. He willingly went to the cross where he endured the Father’s frown that we might experience his cascading pleasure. The writer of Hebrews speaks of Jesus, “who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame” (Heb. 12:2). I love how the apostle Paul describes the Incarnation: “For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell” (Col. 1:19, emphasis mine). There’s eudokia, that same delight and pleasure, yet again. Christ didn’t obey with a harumph or a deep sigh; he obeyed willingly and with delight.
Pleasure Poured Upon a People
God’s pleasure in the Son and the Son’s pleasure in obeying the Father and redeeming his brethren cascade into the church. We are the ones on whom the favor of the Triune God rests. We may read the epistles written to the early church and quickly pass over the appositives given to the people of God; however, they should stop us in our tracks in shock and awe. We are “God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved” (Col. 3: 12); we are “Beloved” (1 John 2:7; 3:2; 21; 4:7). The apostle John could not seem to use the term enough; he made a habit of mentioning it to the early churches.
Such a people with whom God is well-pleased through the Son ought to make a mode of living out of the Chick-fil-A motto. Yet, so often, I find myself obeying from a place of duty rather than delight. As a highly responsible person, I can be counted on to (most of the time) do what I said I would do, but often that doing isn’t motivated by delight but rather self-righteousness or annoyance. I long for my mode of being to match the motto, “It is my pleasure.” But that will not happen until I sit longer under the Father’s costly delight in me, as I let his pleasure sink down deep into my soul.
