If the Gospel could be told from God’s own voice… not how man preaches it, not the version scrubbed by centuries of pain, guilt, and misunderstanding, but God’s Gospel of His Son, we would tremble before its beauty. Because this isn’t just “good news” in the way men have come to flatten the Word. This is the heartbeat of the Father. The story He wrote with His own breath before the world even had air to hold it. And He never needed to rehearse it, because His Son was never plan B. He was never “a way out.” Yeshua was always the center. The fullness. The declaration of who the Father is.
When the Father first spoke, “יְהִי אוֹר” (yehi or), “Let there be light” (Genesis 1:3), it wasn’t just photons or flame. It was the revealing of His Son, הַדָּבָר(ha-davar), the Word, into a formless void. The same Word that would later become flesh was already present in that first breath of order into chaos. As John writes: Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ Λόγος (En archē ēn ho Logos), “In the beginning was the Word” (John 1:1). You see, the Gospel didn’t begin at the manger. It began when the Father chose to reveal Himself. And He always reveals Himself through His Son.
He formed Adam from the dust, knowing that one day His Son would take on the very same dust, עָפָר(afar), born of a woman, formed in flesh. He placed Adam in the garden not just as a test but as a shadow of the One to come. He let Adam sleep so He could draw forth a bride, from his side, just like Yeshua would sleep in death and from His side would come forth αἷμα καὶ ὕδωρ (haima kai hydōr), blood and water (John 19:34)… and a bride.
And then it broke.
The serpent slithered in with his lies, “Did God really say…?”, הַאַף כִּי אָמַר אֱלֹהִים(ha’af ki amar Elohim)?, and man fell (Genesis 3:1). But even in the curse, God whispered the Gospel. He turned to the serpent and said, “וְאֵיבָה אָשִׁית בֵּינְךָ וּבֵין הָאִשָּׁה… הוּא יְשׁוּפְךָ רֹאשׁ” (ve-eyvah ashit beynkha u-veyn ha-ishah… hu y’shufkha rosh), “I will put enmity between you and the woman… He shall crush your head” (Genesis 3:15). He didn’t say their seed. He didn’t say the man’s. He said hers. A woman’s seed, זַרְעָהּ(zar‘ah), a biological impossibility, foretelling the virgin birth. This is how early the Gospel appears from God’s perspective. Not as a bandage, but as a promise.
And as the generations rolled on, the Father watched each one, Noach, Avraham, Moshe, David, not as failed messiahs, but as אוֹתוֹת(otot), signposts. Not because He was waiting for man to get it right, but because He was preparing the world to recognize His Son when He came. He anointed kings and prophets and priests to echo the One who would come as all three. He gave the Torah not as a burden, but as a revelation of the kind of righteousness only One could truly fulfill: צַדִּיק עֲלוּם־שֵׁם(tzaddiq alum-shem), the righteous one whose name was hidden (Isaiah 53).
And when the time had fully come, בִּמְלוֹא הַזְּמָן (bimlo ha-zman), “Ὅτε δὲ ἦλθεν τὸ πλήρωμα τοῦ χρόνου” (hote de ēlthen to plērōma tou chronou), “when the fullness of time had come,” ἐξαπέστειλεν ὁ Θεὸς τὸν Υἱὸν αὐτοῦ (exapesteilen ho Theos ton Huion autou), “God sent forth His Son” (Galatians 4:4).
From the Father’s heart, this wasn’t an experiment. It was joy. Yes, even knowing what it would cost, the Scriptures say, וַיהוָה חָפֵץ דַּכְּאוֹ (v’YHWH chafetz dakk’o), “It pleased YHWH to bruise Him” (Isaiah 53:10). But that doesn’t mean pleasure in suffering. That word חָפֵץ(chafetz) means to will, to choose deliberately, to purpose with love. It was the Father’s will, not because He enjoyed the pain, but because only in this way could He bring many sons (you and me) to glory (Hebrews 2:10). He wasn’t punishing Yeshua. He was receiving the offering He loved most, the obedience of His Son.
Let me tell you what it looked like from the Father’s perspective.
He watched His Son leave heaven, not reluctantly, but like a King laying aside robes to walk through the battlefield in servant’s clothes. “Ἐκένωσεν ἑαυτόν μορφὴν δούλου λαβών” (ekenōsen heauton, morphēn doulou labōn), “He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant” (Philippians 2:7). He watched His Son, wrapped in human flesh, nursing at the breast of the very woman He created. He watched Him grow, not just physically, but חָכְמָה וְקוֹמָה (chokhmah v’qomah), “in wisdom and stature” (Luke 2:52), learning the language He once thundered from Sinai, whispering it now through the breath of a baby.
He watched the boy Yeshua build tables with His hands, knowing that soon those same hands would be pierced. He watched as He taught in the synagogues, healed the sick, and cast out demons with nothing but His word. He smiled when Peter recognized Him for who He was, not because Peter was brilliant, but because the Father had told him when they were on the mountain.
“זֶה בְּנִי הַיָּקָר” (zeh beni ha-yaqar), “This is My Son, My Beloved”, ὁ ἀγαπητός, εἰς ὃν εὐδόκησα (ho agapētos, eis hon eudokēsa), “in whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17, 17:5).
The Gospel, from the Father’s point of view, is the story of watching His Son walk toward death without once flinching. It is the story of perfect trust. Can you imagine it, Dear Reader? Watching your only Son kneel in Gethsemane, sweating blood, crying out, “אָבִּי… אִם אֶפְשָׁר תַּעֲבֹר מִמֶּנִּי הַכּוֹס הַזֹּאת…” (“Abbi… im efshar ta’avor mimeni ha-kos ha-zot…”), “Abba… if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me…” (Matthew 26:39), and still, still, saying, “אַךְ לֹא כִרְצוֹנִי”, “yet not My will,” “ἀλλ’ ὡς σὺ θέλεις” (all’ hōs su theleis), “but Yours be done.” That wasn’t resignation. That was love. And the Father never looked away. Not once.
When they mocked Him, spit on Him, beat Him, every bruise was seen. “נָכוּה מֵאִישׁ וּמַכְאֹבוֹת” (naku me-ish u-mach’ovot), “smitten of men, a man of sorrows” (Isaiah 53:3). When the nails went in, heaven thundered, but the Father did not intervene. Not because He didn’t care. But because this was the purpose for which He was spared.
And on the cross, when Yeshua cried out in Aramaic, “אֵלִי אֵלִי לְמָה שְׁבַקְתַּנִי?” (Eli, Eli, lamah shevaqtani?) (Matthew 27:46), the Father did not recoil in wrath. He leaned in. He knew what His Son was saying: This was the plan. This was the mission. You have not abandoned Me. שְׁבַקְתַּנִי (shevaqtani), “You have spared Me,” “You have released Me.” For this purpose I was sent. For this purpose I was spared.
It is man’s fallen heart that thinks a holy Father would ever abandon His obedient Son. It is man’s broken logic that reads separation where there was only unity. But from heaven’s view, the cross was not God’s absence. It was God’s fullness, poured out. It was not wrath toward Yeshua, it was wrath toward sin itself, and Yeshua bore it willingly, not as one rejected, but as one καθιστάμενος (kathistamenos), appointed. And the Father watched… not cold, but close. Very close.
And when the veil tore and the tomb shook and the breath left Yeshua’s lungs, the Father received Him, not with mourning, but with triumph. Because death had no claim. θάνατος οὐκ ἴσχυσεν αὐτόν (thanatos ouk ischusen auton), “Death had no power over Him” (Acts 2:24). Yeshua had not sinned. The grave could not hold Him. So the Father raised Him, not just back to life, but εἰς δόξαν (eis doxan), into glory, into the right hand of majesty (Hebrews 1:3), where even now He intercedes, not pleading with a reluctant God, but standing as the proof that the Father has already said yes.
This is the Gospel from God’s point of view:
“זֶה בְּנִי הָאֱהוּב” (zeh beni ha-ahuv), “This is My Son. I love Him. I sent Him to do what only He could do. I did not forsake Him. I stood with Him. I lifted Him up. And now I offer Him to you, not as a symbol, but as a living door, פֶּתַח חַי (petach chai). If you have seen Him, you have seen Me (John 14:9). If you love Him, you are loved by Me. If you receive Him, I will receive you.”
And it is still being spoken.
Every time a sinner repents, the Father sees His Son’s work completed. Every baptism, every act of forgiveness, every broken soul made whole, the Father sees His Son glorified. That’s the Gospel. That’s His joy. That’s the good news from the Father’s side.
Not that He got justice. But that He gave love, and it was not wasted.
That’s what I see.
image done by chatgpt at my direction.