Sunday Morning Greek Blog

December 29, 2024

Young Jesus at the Temple (Post-Advent; Luke 2:41–52; Psalm 148; Colossians 3:12–17)

How many of you had “preteen” kids around you at your holiday celebrations this year? Honestly, that was my nightmare week of summer church camp if I ever got called to help lead that back in the day. So much drama! As I reflect on that, I wonder why we never made the kids memorize Bible verses about gossip! They’re at that age where they want to be independent but still have to pass notes or create a “grapevine” to find out who likes who.

The stories you get as a camp counselor may be hard to follow sometimes too. “Maggie asked her BFF Jenny to ask Jake if he would ask Maggie to sit with her at the campfire, but Jake likes Jenny better than Maggie so Jake asked Jenny to the campfire instead and Jenny said yes so now Maggie’s mad at Jenny” and so on and so on….

Fortunately (or rather, “divinely”), the preteen, 12-year-old Jesus in our Bible passage this morning shows no signs of having that kind of drama to worry about or distract him from preparing for his ministry as an adult. In fact, he is SO not into that kind of drama that he creates his own drama by not telling his family he’s going to hang out at the temple as they’re departing and talk to a bunch of old theologically minded men about what his real dad is really like. No playing tag or hide-and-seek with his cousins and half-siblings on the way home from Jerusalem for this Savior-to-be!

When you think about it, this really is a remarkable account of the early life of Jesus. We very rarely got that with other important biblical figures in the Old Testament. With Isaac and Jacob and Esau, we didn’t really have too much of their early life, other than Jacob holding onto to Esau’s heel when those twins were born. Joseph was 17 when he started having visions of grandeur and was subsequently sold into slavery by his brothers. We looked at Samuel’s birth briefly last week as well.

Then of course there was David. He was the youngest of Jesse’s eight sons. But he also was seemingly quite brave, having bragged to King Saul about killing a lion and a bear. This set the stage for his confrontation with Goliath and thus giving him a reputation as a great warrior king. David would not be allowed to build God’s Temple, his “earthly” residence in Jerusalem, because he had blood on his hands, but Solomon would.

The tabernacle had certainly been through the ringer in the over 200 years it had been used for worship in the wilderness and as they settled into the Promised Land. David wanted to replace it with something beautiful and more permanent. He drew up the plans, and Solomon would eventually build it. But even that temple would fall into disrepair and ruin after the exile and its abandonment. Herod built a new temple, but even though it wasn’t the original built by Jesus’s earthly ancestor Solomon son of David, Jesus, the Son of Man of the lineage of David, would still come to call Herod’s temple his father’s house.

What is interesting about the youth and young adult stories we have about all these forefathers is that, since Cain killed Abel in the early chapters of Genesis, the Old Testament seems to have an underlying theme of disfavor on the firstborn among the family line of God’s chosen people. It’s not clear if Abraham was firstborn, because his story in Genesis is told under the title, “This is the account Terah,” his father’s name. Isaac was not Abraham’s first son. Jacob of course was second born to Isaac. Joseph was Jacob’s (Israel’s) second to last child of twelve sons and one daughter. Samuel wasn’t Elkanah’s first born, and David was the youngest of eight.

But we do know that Jesus is Mary’s first born, and this is where the disfavor of the firstborn gets nipped in the bud. Jesus knows, even at the tender age of 12, that he is God’s one and only begotten son, and not only that, that his father’s house is his home too by inheritance. In this temple encounter, Jesus asserts not only his first-born responsibility to bring honor and respect to his parents, and by extension to the rest of his family, but also honor, respect, and glory to his true father, his heavenly father, in the place his heavenly father calls home on earth.

Unfortunately, we do not have a transcript of Jesus’s discussion with the teachers in the temple. That would have been fascinating indeed. Jesus was only one year away from what was essentially his bar mitzvah, that is, becoming a “son of the commandment,” and thus being formally held to account for his observance of the law. Jesus was obviously trying his hand at dialoguing with the teachers of the law to understand the human and religious reasoning and logic these teachers applied to the law.

The dialogue would have been very Socratic as well. Lots of questions going back and forth, including answering questions with questions each way. The amazement the teachers had with Jesus probably stemmed from his depth of understanding of the law, his ability to answer their questions, and his own penchant for asking intelligent and thought-provoking questions himself. I’ll venture a guess and say he even tried out a parable or two on them.

Proverbs 22:6 tells us, “Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.”[1] Of course, Jesus was most likely a self-starter once he had awareness of his divine nature (and we can only speculate on when that happened). But our children obviously need guidance if we’re going to expect them to have any awareness of faith in God, a relationship with Jesus, or sensitivity to the Holy Spirit speaking into their lives.

To the extent that you can, if you can have any influence in the spiritual formation of the children in your extended family, take the opportunity to exercise that influence. Send them cards and letters. Record a video or two for them. Create a photo album with family stories included. I’d like to think my own blog is the spiritual legacy I’m leaving for my kids and grandkids.

As God’s chosen people, we have an obligation to pass on the legacy of our faith to our families. The other New Testament passage from today’s lectionary readings comes from Colossians 3:12–17, where Paul gives us insight as to how we can be shining lights to our families and the world around us:

12 Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. 13 Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. 14 And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

15 Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. 16 Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. 17 And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.[2]

In some ways, this passage reads like a further explanation of the fruit of the Spirit: “love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.”[3] If you’re considering any New Year’s resolutions for 2025, this passage from Colossians would be a good way to start, to recommit yourself to being a better follower of Christ. This past year has certainly been pretty hectic and emotional given what’s happened on both the political and cultural fronts. Maybe it’s time we wipe the slate clean by injecting a heaping helping of forgiveness where we’ve encountered negative feedback from friends and family.

I like how the NIV translation uses “forbearance” in the fruit of the Spirit passage, the only time the NIV translates the Greek word that way. Every other time, it’s translated “patience” or “patient” in the New Testament. I’m not sure why that is, but the translation “forbearance” seems to have a more active nuance than the word “patience.” Patience seems to imply just waiting around for something to happen, while forbearance seems to suggest that you’re actively praying about whatever the situation is and how you can keep your emotions in check if it’s something you’re not comfortable with but have little to no control over.

As we talked about during the Advent season, seek the peace of Christ as well. “Let [it] rule in your hearts,” says Paul. Peace is not necessarily the absence of conflict, although that helps greatly, but the security of knowing you’re safe in Christ and in your faith. Spend time in Scripture and commit yourself to maintaining a connection with your faith family here or wherever you may attend regularly. That is how the word of God can dwell “among you” (notice it says “among” and not “in,” that’s significant!) richly and how you can have the experience of singing the songs of praise together that our Psalm 148 reading spoke about today.

As we close the books on 2024 this year, my prayer is that you will draw even closer to God in the new year. I pray for you (and me) like Paul prayed for the Ephesians: “That the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, 19 and his incomparably great power for us who believe.”[4] Power, riches, and hope (and not the hope of the MegaMillions jackpot type of riches). Jesus wants us to be strong in the faith for him and look to him for our joy. May God richly bless you as we enter 2025 this week. Amen!


[1] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[2] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[3] The New International Version. Galatians 5:22–23a. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[4] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

Scott Stocking

My opinions are my own.

Advent Love (Luke 1:39–55; 1 Samuel 2:1–10)

Message preached at Mount View Presbyterian Church on December 22, 2024, fourth Sunday in Advent.

Welcome to the fourth Sunday in Advent. May the Lord be with you. [And also with you.] As we mentioned in the Advent Candle ceremony, we’ve already explored the other three themes of this holy season: Hope in the salvation we have in Jesus and his return to bring us to his eternal home; the Peace that comes from living a life united with the Savior; and the Joy of the fellowship we have with one another.

Today, we look at the final theme of Advent, Love. God’s love is the foundation that supports and sustains our Hope, our Peace, and our Joy. God’s love also enables us to love one another, and this love binds us together as a congregation and allows us to be a powerful witness in the community, the city, and the world.

It is God’s love, then, that makes us a family, children of God and brothers and sisters in Christ and members of the body of Christ. It should not surprise us then that God chooses to keep the revelation of his son within one extended family as well. We looked at John the Baptist a couple weeks ago, whose mother, Elizabeth, was Mary’s “relative.” John’s conception was a bit of a mystery as well. When another older couple in the Bible, Abraham and Sarah, had a baby, we’re told that Abraham “had relations” with Sarah and she conceived. In Luke’s gospel, we’re never told that Zechariah had relations with Elizabeth. Was John’s conception a miracle as well? It wouldn’t have been “immaculate” like Jesus’s was, as Elizabeth certainly wasn’t a virgin at her age. But she had been barren. Makes you go “Hmmm.” I’ll save the rest of my speculation for a blog article.

We don’t know exactly what the relationship was between Mary and Elizabeth. Given the age difference, one might suspect Elizabeth was her aunt. Regardless, the end result was that Jesus and John the Baptist likely grew up together, so John was a first-hand witness to Jesus’s early life and could vouch for Jesus’s character and perhaps even his divine nature.

In our Gospel passage today, we read about Mary going to see Elizabeth when they both are pregnant. Elizabeth was already six months along (Luke 1:26, 36). We see that even in the womb, John the would-be Baptist understood that Mary was pregnant with the Son of God. Elizabeth knew as well, as she called Mary “the mother of my Lord.” On the one hand, our rational minds might say John could not possibly have any memory of that encounter. But on the other hand, we might also say that John had an innate. Elijah-esque spiritual insight into who Jesus was.

It would seem that Mary had gone to help Elizabeth with her pregnancy. We know Elizabeth was six months along, and at the end of our passage this morning, we find out Mary stayed with her for about three months. It doesn’t take too much speculation to assume Mary was there for the birth of John. If John leapt in Elizabeth’s womb when pregnant Mary arrived, can you imagine what it must have been like while they were that close to each other for three months? How anxious was he to be born? Did Mary get a chance to hold John close to her pregnant belly so he could hear the early stages of Jesus’s beating heart in her womb?

I know a lot of $20 theological words, but I can’t think of any that might describe an innate spiritual connection of two sons of different mothers still in the womb. It would have been very interesting to see John and Jesus together as children. They would have had a connection stronger than twins!

The family connection and family dynamic between Jesus and John is made quite obvious in the early chapters of the Gospels. It’s almost certain that Elizabeth would have told John the story of how he leapt in her womb upon “meeting” Jesus for the first time. Mary probably didn’t have to tell Jesus whose son he really was. Jesus seems to have already figured that out by the age of 12, as he gets separated from his earthly parents. I have to wonder if John in the entourage that had traveled to Jerusalem for the Passover when Jesus found himself talking with the teachers of the law at the steps of the temple.

Jesus knew the temple was his Father’s house. Which meant it was also his “inheritance.” His to honor. His to defend the integrity of. His to ensure the freedom of entry and access to all peoples. Of course, we find out in Acts after his resurrection that his followers would no longer be restricted to the temple to worship. His followers themselves would be the temple of God. All the more reason for Jesus to love the church and pay the ultimate price for its salvation and longevity.

Before I dive into discussing Mary’s Magnificat, I want to remind you of another miraculous birth story of sorts; miraculous because it was the answer to one woman’s earnest prayers for a child. Her name was Hannah, and we read about her in the beginning of a book that bears her son’s name, 1 Samuel. She wanted a son so badly that she pledged her firstborn to be dedicated to the Lord’s service for life. After Samuel was born and weaned, she turned him over to the care and training of Eli, the father of two of the priests at Shiloh. Samuel would grow up a Nazarite, like Samson, but he would remain faithful to the end. He oversaw the transition of Israel from a theocracy to a monarchy and was responsible for appointing and anointing David as King of Israel after the people’s choice, Saul, failed miserably.

Samuel’s complete story is also for another time. The reason I mention this story is that, along with Hannah offering up her son to Eli’s care, she also offers up a prayer of thanksgiving that is most likely the model for Mary’s Magnificat. Here’s what she says in 1 Samuel 2:1–10 and see if you hear the parallels to Mary’s song and to a certain extent, Zechariah’s song at the end of Luke 1:

“My heart rejoices in the Lord; in the Lord my horn is lifted high.

My mouth boasts over my enemies, for I delight in your deliverance.

“There is no one holy like the Lord; there is no one besides you; there is no Rock like our God.

“Do not keep talking so proudly or let your mouth speak such arrogance,

For the Lord is a God who knows, and by him deeds are weighed.

“The bows of the warriors are broken, but those who stumbled are armed with strength.

Those who were full hire themselves out for food, but those who were hungry are hungry no more.

She who was barren has borne seven children, but she who has had many sons pines away.

“The Lord brings death and makes alive; he brings down to the grave and raises up.

The Lord sends poverty and wealth; he humbles and he exalts.

He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap;

He seats them with princes and has them inherit a throne of honor.

“For the foundations of the earth are the Lord’s; on them he has set the world.

He will guard the feet of his faithful servants, but the wicked will be silenced in the place of darkness.

“It is not by strength that one prevails; 10 those who oppose the Lord will be broken.

The Most High will thunder from heaven; the Lord will judge the ends of the earth.

“He will give strength to his king and exalt the horn of his anointed.”

It’s pretty easy to see the parallels between the two texts. They speak of personal and political victories over enemies; relief for the poor and oppressed, and the Lord’s sovereignty and power in the heavens and on earth.

Getting back to the Mary and Elizabeth story again, we can see there is something mighty that happens when a family follows the Lord and supports each other in prayer and service. Although these events we’re reading about seem to have a little more historical significance than anything you or I may have done or ever do, we should not let that discourage us from rejoicing with family and praising God for the birth of our precious children. It is nearly impossible to trace the influence and the domino effect of what we do and how that may impact the future. You only have to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” to see a fictional portrayal of how one man influenced his small home town for the good of all.

We can of course always pray for our families and especially our children, that they might know the blessings of the Lord and the rewards and support of connecting with a faith community. We can pray for our young children that they would be protected from the negative and unhealthy influences that increasingly show up in ads and content on social media apps and sites and even in some kids’ television shows and educational materials. We can pray for opportunities to show mercy and compassion to those who need help and support in times of great need. We can and have been praying for loved ones facing serious illness or end-of-life issues and be there for them with emotional, material, and prayerful support. I can speak from personal experience that in this time when I’ve been praying for my sister Lindee that I have sensed the presence of the Lord more deeply and that my faith has been strengthened even more.

As the body of Christ here at Mount View, our own church family, you have done great things to the extent of your ability, providing help and comfort with gifts and offerings of quilts, food, and clothing items dedicated to those in need. God has truly blessed this congregation as you continue to reach out and draw closer to him and to each other through your ministry.

For those here who haven’t been to church in a while, I would like to encourage you to consider finding a congregation that is a good fit for you and your family situation. Of course, we’d love to have you here every Sunday. But if you don’t live around here or you’re looking for a different style of worship, churches are like each of us: unique in their makeup, their ministry, and their demographic. I can guarantee you that if you look with an open heart and mind, you will find a congregation that’s a good fit for you. But also remember that the church is made up of imperfect people, so no church is perfect. But they might be a little more perfect if you get involved. Think about that for a minute, hmm?

Jesus was born to show us the way back to God. Those of us here believe the church, whether it be Mount View or somewhere else, is the way to find and remain connected to God and Christ-followers. I pray that all of you will have a blessed Christmas season and that in some way, big or small, you will experience the hope, peace, joy, and love of Christ and his family of believers. Amen.

My opinions are my own.

Scott Stocking

August 13, 2024

Debunking The Skeptics Annotated Bible (SAB): Romans 1:3

I’m down to preaching on just the last Sunday of the month now, so I thought I’d take a stab at some apologetic articles on my off weeks and make a series out of the posts. I’ve referenced before the work of Steve Wells, The Skeptic’s Annotated Bible (SAB), in which he categorizes several different types of what he considers to be deficiencies in the biblical text like perceived or apparent inconsistencies, worldviews that would not have even been considered in biblical times, and things he thinks are ridiculous or silly. He uses the King James Version of the Bible, which is probably in the public domain at this point, so he didn’t even choose a good modern translation to critique. His criticisms reflect an extremely shallow understanding of Scripture and the nature and character of ancient texts generally, so admittedly, his work is low-hanging fruit for those of us who are Bible ninjas when it comes to defending the faith.

Having said that, then, I’ll tackle Romans 1:3 in this article (≠329)[1], but it will lend itself to debunking some of the other related inconsistencies as well.

The first is Romans 1:3, citing the KJV text he uses:

Concerning his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, which was made of the seed of David according to the flesh;[2]

Here’s the 2011 NIV translation of the same verse:

regarding his Son, who as to his earthly life g was a descendant of David,[3]

And since this is a blog about Greek, I’ll throw in the Greek text for giggles.

3 περὶ τοῦ υἱοῦ αὐτοῦ τοῦ γενομένου ἐκ σπέρματος Δαυὶδ κατὰ σάρκα,[4]

The question Wells asks here about the contradiction is: “Was Joseph the father of Jesus?” Under each entry in the index, he identifies other verses in the Bible that he has labeled with the same number and breaks the list down into the supposed contradictory answers. Interestingly enough, he seems to have his verses mixed up in the index entry, as he lists this particular verse under the “Yes” answer category, while the verses in Gospels for the birth stories of Jesus that explicitly identify Joseph as Jesus’s earthly “father” are under the “No” category.

First of all, basic common sense would leave most people to believe that “seed” is being used metaphorically here, not necessarily in reference to a biological child of the person who produced the “seed,” but more broadly to the concept of “descendant.” In fact, when the word for seed [σπέρμα (sperma), ατος (atos), τό (to)[5]] is not used to mean an actual seed of a plant, it appears in contexts where the concept of having descendants is emphasized (see, for example, Mark 12:20–22, the concept of levirate marriage). So Paul in Romans 1:3 isn’t talking about Jesus’s biological father (bio dad for you young ‘uns), but about Jesus coming from the lineage of David, through which the prophets of the Old Testament declared the Messiah would be born. Pretty straightforward, right?

But let’s not stop there, because if Paul had intended to say David was Jesus’s bio dad, he would have had a perfectly good Greek word to use, and he could have taken it straight from Matthew’s genealogy in Matthew 1:1–17, and as such, I’ll address some other contradictions (≠326 Matthew/Luke genealogy; ≠328 Who was Jesus’s paternal grandfather?; ≠261 Matthew/1 Chronicles genealogies; ≠325 number of generations) Wells identifies, the discrepancy between Matthew’s and Luke’s genealogies. The Greek word γεννάω (gennaō), according to Louw-Nida’s reference, means “the male role in causing the conception and birth of a child—‘to be the father of, to procreate, to beget.’ ”[6] So this is yet another proof that there’s no need to identify a contradiction in Romans 1:3, because Paul didn’t use the same term as Matthew there.

But wait! It gets even better! While Matthew’s genealogy begins with Abraham, the father of God’s covenant people, and ends with Joseph, Luke’s genealogy begins with Joseph and goes backwards to creation and Adam, the first man (of whom Jesus is the archetype, that is, the firstborn of all creation). Matthew’s genealogy probably skips a generation here or there so he can fit it into his three “fourteen generations” pattern (by the way, 3 x 14 = 42, so Jesus is the answer to the question of “What is the meaning of life, the universe, everything?” Some of my readers will get that.). But you can trace the genealogy to a certain historical point from the end of Ruth and in 1 Chronicles 3:10–17.

The standard historical interpretation of Luke’s “alternate” genealogy is that it traces Jesus’s lineage back through Mary and not Joseph. Note that when Luke introduces the genealogy, he says “being (as was supposed) the son of Joseph” (Luke 3:23 KJV). But verse 23 is the only time we see the word for “son” in the Greek text. The rest of the genealogy is just the genitive form of the definite article, so it’s literally “Joseph of Heli of Matthat of Levi…” and so on. “Son of” can be fairly discerned from the context, but it’s possible Luke uses just the definite article to cover his bases in case someone is missing from the genealogy. We know nothing about Jesus’s grandparents on either side, so it’s possible that the simple “of” in the first instance (“of Heli”) is connecting Joseph to Mary’s parents or lineage. After all, in Jewish tradition, the child’s “Jewishness” comes from the mother.

This is just one example of the shallow and rather thoughtless and unscholarly opposition to the truth and integrity of Scripture you’ll find in Wells’ SAB. Your comments made in good faith are always welcome. If you’d like to read more critiques about the SAB, I want to recommend you to my colleague SlimJim’s blog, The Domain for Truth (wordpress.com). He is an outstanding apologist for the faith.

Peace,

Scott Stocking

My views are my own.


[1] NOTE: As I go forward in this series, I will “tag” the index numbers so you can easily search for the contradictions among my blog posts.

[2] The Holy Bible: King James Version. 2009. Electronic Edition of the 1900 Authorized Version. Bellingham, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc.

[3] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[4] Aland, Kurt, Matthew Black, Carlo M. Martini, Bruce M. Metzger, Maurice A. Robinson, and Allen Wikgren. 1993; 2006. The Greek New Testament, Fourth Revised Edition (with Morphology). Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft.

[5] Swanson, James. 1997. In Dictionary of Biblical Languages with Semantic Domains: Greek (New Testament), electronic ed. Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, Inc.; those of you who know Greek will recognize that the noun is neuter, not masculine or feminine.

[6] Louw, Johannes P., and Eugene Albert Nida. 1996. In Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament: Based on Semantic Domains, electronic ed. of the 2nd edition., 1:256. New York: United Bible Societies.

May 13, 2024

A Mother’s Courage (Psalm 1; Exodus 2; 1 Samuel 1–2)

Message preached on May 12, 2024, (Mother’s Day; Ascension Sunday) at Mount View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE. Scripture readings for the day were Psalm 1 and Luke 24:44–53 (from Ascension Thursday).

I want to read the first half of Psalm 1 again. As I read those three verses, I’d like you to think about someone you know who might fit that description.

Blessed is the one
who does not walk in step with the wicked

or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,

but whose delight is in the law of the Lord,
and who meditates on his law day and night.

That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season

and whose leaf does not wither—
whatever they do prospers.[1]

One person who fits that bill in my life is my mom, and I’m guessing that might be true for some of you as well. I think I can make a pretty safe bet that some of your kids would say that about each of you as well. You know the sacrifices you’ve made, the labors of love you’ve persevered through, and the happy times you’ve provided to give your children a loving environment in which to grow and thrive. Moms, this day is for you, and this message is for you this morning as well.

I want to look at the courage of three mothers in the Bible who faced some incredibly difficult choices, the mother of Moses; Hannah, the mother of Samuel; and Mary, the mother of Jesus. We don’t have many details about their respective backgrounds or their upbringing, but their stories were important enough to memorialize in Scripture, so they’re worth a closer look.

We read about Moses’s mother in Exodus. Moses’s mother and father were Levites, who after the Exodus would live their lives in service of the Tabernacle and later the Temple. Pharoah had given an order that all the Hebrew newborn boys should be thrown into the Nile, reflecting an ancient, barbaric practice known as “exposure.” Exposure involved abandoning an unwanted child in a remote location and letting the wild animals or nature “take its course.” In Sophocles account of Oedipus Tyrannus, such an abandoned child was maimed intentionally to make them less desirable should they happen to survive or be rescued by a more compassionate soul.

Moses’s mother, of course, was too compassionate and loved her child too much to allow something like that to happen to Moses. Even the Egyptian midwives knew that what they were commanded to do—kill all Hebrew male babies at birth—was morally abhorrent. They conspired to tell Pharaoh that Hebrew women gave birth so quickly they had no time to get to the birthing event. She tried to hide Moses for a few months, but when that became impossible to do, she followed through with Pharoah’s edict, sort of.

She placed Moses in a covered basket coated with tar and pitch so it would float on water. The word for “basket” there is the same word used for Noah’s “Ark,” תֵּבָה (tē·ḇā(h)), so there’s an obvious thematic connection there: God’s deliverance. But Moses’s mother was not interested in seeing her newborn die in the Nile. Moses’s mother knew just where to place the basket so it would float right to the spot where Pharaoh’s daughter would bathe and find him. Moses’s mother took an incredible chance at this point, a chance that one of Pharaoh’s soldier could have found the basket first and killed Moses on the spot; maybe even a chance that the crocodiles, if there were any around, would get to him first.[2] She let her child float down the river, under the watchful eye of Moses’s older sister, until Pharaoh’s daughter would find him. In case you’re wondering, yes, the Nile does have crocodiles, but it’s not clear whether they were common in this part of the Nile. I’m guessing not if it was the royal bathing site.

Most of us know the rest of the story. Pharaoh’s daughter rescued Moses from the river, and Moses’s sister was brave enough to approach her to offer the services of his mother as a wet nurse, so she got paid to do her motherly duty! Moses would eventually grow up to be educated in all the wisdom and knowledge of Egypt, making him the perfect “rebel” to lead his people out of Egypt to the Promised Land. Moses’s mother’s incredible courage to keep him alive against the wishes of a tyrant led the most significant event in early Hebrew history, the Exodus of the Hebrews from Egypt.

From the time of the Exodus and entry into the Promised Land, we jump forward a few hundred years to the end of the period of the Judges. In 1 Samuel, we’re introduced to the family of Elkanah. He is an Ephraimite with two wives: Peninnah and Hannah. Elkanah had children with Peninnah, but Hannah had had no such luck, and in that culture, barrenness was the worst form of shame for a married woman. We learn in the story that Peninnah taunts Hannah relentlessly because she is barren, amplifying the shame Hannah felt. But Elkanah was acutely aware of Hannah’s shame and her desire to have a child, even giving her a double portion of the sacrificial meat after the sacrifice.

At one of these sacrificial meals in Shiloh, Hannah got up and went to pray for a child at “the Lord’s house.” Eli the priest noticed that as she prayed and wept, her lips were moving but he couldn’t hear her voice. He thought she was drunk. Hannah explained that she was in anguish, and it probably didn’t take Eli too long to figure out why, and instead of continuing to chide her for what he thought was a drunken display, he blessed her: “Go in peace, and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him.”

We’re not sure of the timeline after that, but it would seem that it happened within the next year, Hannah gave birth to a son and named him “Heard by God,” which in Hebrew is Samuel. Out of her joy, Hannah agreed to dedicate Samuel to the work of the Lord when he was old enough to be weaned, and Eli took him under his wing. Hannah continued to look after Samuel every year, bringing him a new robe at each visit. Hannah was blessed with two more sons and two daughters as well.

Samuel turned out to be a shining light of integrity as a “surrogate” son in the family business of leading in the Tabernacle, especially since Eli’s own two sons were little better than scoundrels. Samuel would be instrumental in the transition from the period where Israel was led by judges to the monarchy and appointment of Saul and then David as kings of Israel. Given the character of most of the judges up through Samuel, it’s difficult to say what would have happened had Samuel, a man after God’s own heart himself, had not come on the scene when Israel went through its transition. We can thank Hannah’s courage and her fervent prayers for the birth and life of Samuel and his faithful work guiding the early monarchs of Israel into its Golden Age.

Hannah’s prayer (1 Samuel 2) after dedicating Samuel to the Lord may sound familiar to some of you. Listen to her prayer and see if doesn’t sound similar to a prayer of another mother who came on the scene about 1,000 years later:

“My heart rejoices in the Lord;

in the Lord my horn u is lifted high.

My mouth boasts over my enemies,

for I delight in your deliverance.

“There is no one holy like the Lord;

there is no one besides you;

there is no Rock like our God.

“Do not keep talking so proudly

or let your mouth speak such arrogance,

for the Lord is a God who knows,

and by him deeds are weighed.

“The bows of the warriors are broken,

but those who stumbled are armed with strength.

Those who were full hire themselves out for food,

but those who were hungry are hungry no more.

She who was barren has borne seven children,

but she who has had many sons pines away.

“The Lord brings death and makes alive;

he brings down to the grave and raises up.

The Lord sends poverty and wealth;

he humbles and he exalts.

He raises the poor from the dust

and lifts the needy from the ash heap;

he seats them with princes

and has them inherit a throne of honor.

“For the foundations of the earth are the Lord’s;

on them he has set the world.

He will guard the feet of his faithful servants,

but the wicked will be silenced in the place of darkness.

“It is not by strength that one prevails;

10   those who oppose the Lord will be broken.

The Most High will thunder from heaven;

the Lord will judge the ends of the earth.

“He will give strength to his king

and exalt the horn of his anointed.” [3]

Of course, that mother was Mary, the mother of Jesus, and her Magnificat that Luke records in chapter 1 seems to pick up on many of the themes Hannah had highlighted in her own prayer.

In spite of their very similar songs of praise to God, they had quite different circumstances in their lives when their firstborns came along. Hannah was in a committed marriage relationship. It’s not clear why she was one of two wives. If I had to make an educated guess, I’d say Hannah may have been the wife of one of Elkanah’s brothers who passed away, and through the custom of the Levirate marriage, Elkanah would have been obligated to “marry” his brother’s widow and through that marriage provide an heir for his brother, her late husband. You’ll notice that the story doesn’t make any moral judgments about the arrangement. This could explain Hannah’s earnest and seemingly anxious desire to have a son.

Mary, on the other hand, was most likely too young to have thought of herself as barren, especially since she had not formally tied the knot with Joseph at the time she learns she is pregnant with Jesus. She wasn’t asking God for children when the Gospel writers introduce us to her. In fact, having any children was certainly not “top-of-mind” for her. She is shocked but does not respond with disbelief at God’s promise to her. Even though Joseph shows concern for ending the relationship for both their sakes, so he thinks, to save face, Mary cannot escape the fact that an archangel of the Lord had revealed God’s purpose and promise to her, so she presses forward all the while anticipating what was to come.

We don’t hear anything in the Gospel accounts of Mary and Joseph during Mary’s pregnancy until we get to the birth of Jesus in the stable. Luke picks up the story just as they are headed out from Nazareth to his ancestral home in Bethlehem, even though Mary is obviously in the last month of her pregnancy. She and Joseph persevere through the most unlikely place for a baby to be born: an animal stable instead of their comfortable home back in Nazareth. But that night, the shepherds in the nearby fields found out from a heavenly host that the savior has been born, and they hurry to see him that very night in his humble digs.

But her journey is far from over. Luke tells us Jesus was presented on the eighth day at the temple and receives the two blessings from Anna and Simeon, which must have hit her hard, especially the part about causing the rising and falling of many. Matthew tells us that on the heels of that dedication that “magi” from the East come to worship him and bestow him with gifts, gold, frankincense, and myrrh. I’m guessing that gold would have come in handy when God warned them to flee even further from Nazareth, into Egypt, because Herod, like Pharaoh of old, had ordered all babies under two years old to be killed. They were able to return to Nazareth a few years later.

It must have been quite the challenge for Mary to watch Jesus grow up, I mean, he was the son of God. What kind of behavior would you expect from a kid who had all the fulness of deity dwelling in him? We know from the gospel accounts that Mary never seems to be too far away from Jesus throughout his ministry. Of all the people who knew Jesus and associated with him closely, Mary would have been the one to truly understand his mission, especially when he started talking about his impending death. She may not have wanted to understand, but she couldn’t deny that she did, and yet she faced each day with and for him.

Mary is the only one of the three mothers we’ve looked at this morning to see what happens to her son at the end of his life on earth. Yet her incredible sorrow and anguish at witnessing his crucifixion was transformed to inexpressible joy when she encountered him risen from the dead. I’m not sure that Mary would have picked up on Jesus hinting at his own resurrection, even after finding out Jesus had called forth the recently deceased Lazarus from the tomb.

These three mothers, whose sons had significant ministries and a crucial mission for their own times, exemplified the kind of faith and courage that earn them the designation of Psalm 1:3: “She is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—whatever she does prospers.”

Today, let us give thanks to God for the faithfulness of mothers who stood by us and with us as we were growing and maturing. We give thanks to you who are faithful mothers who even today give comfort and encouragement to your adult kids and to your grandkids. And let us give thanks for and encourage younger mothers as they face their own unique challenges in raising the next generation. May the peace and love of God be with you all. Amen.


[1] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[2] It does seem odd that crocodiles aren’t mentioned in this story. Perhaps Pharaoh had a “Croc Patrol” to keep the river clear of them where royalty used it for bathing.

[3] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

January 14, 2024

Epiphany in Ephesians (Ephesians 3:1–13)

I preached this message January 7, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church, after being called upon in the 11th hour to fill in for the scheduled speaker that day. Lightly edited for publication.

Last year you may remember that I spoke about the “epiphany” I had in diving into the celebration of Epiphany and the ancient biblical history, both the Old Testament background and the New Testament setting, behind it. I also shared with you one author’s view that the “wise men” who visited Jesus may not have been Persians, as we’ve typically assumed for many years, but perhaps Jewish scholars or priests who lived in post-exilic Jewish communities that had relocated east of the Jordan River, but not quite to the heart of Babylon. In other words, they would have had an intimate connection to the OT prophecies to such a degree as to have been willing to make the journey to see the newborn Messiah.

In the liturgical calendar, Epiphany is more than just one day of celebrating the visit of these Magi to the house (notice they were no longer in the stable) where Jesus and his family were residing. Epiphany is the season on the church calendar between Christmas and Lent and covers the early chapters of the Gospels up to Jesus’s transfiguration, which is celebrated the Sunday before Lent. The transfiguration is a seminal event in the ministry of Jesus, because it is at that point, I believe, that the disciples, at least the ones who witnessed it, began to comprehend the divine nature of Jesus and his place as the Messiah of God. And of course Lent leads us up to Easter and the resurrection of the Lord, and the Easter season that follows leads us to Pentecost, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit and the foundation of the New Testament church.

A year ago, then, I found myself reflecting on this organization of the liturgical calendar and kept coming back to one certain conclusion: the liturgical calendar is not intended to be some legalistic formula that we follow, but rather a microcosm of our respective journeys with respect to our faith in Christ, how we come to understand his grace in our lives, and how we discover his purposes through and for our lives.

Now we know the magi went out of their way to find the baby Jesus and worship him, because they knew he was the Messiah. But what was their “takeaway” from that experience? How did it impact their lives? Would they have had the same insights that Simeon and Anna had as we saw in last week’s passage? What was the message they brought back to their people from whence they came? Unfortunately, we don’t know much more about the magi and what happened to them afterwards, because they went home by a different route to avoid the clutches of Herod.

One point about the birth of Christ we often point out is that Christ wasn’t born in a royal palace or into a royal or politically connected family. He had humble beginnings in a stable. God wasn’t completely hiding Jesus from the rich and powerful because God did honor the Magi’s heartfelt search for his son. But what we see happening in the early church after Jesus’s resurrection is that the church, the body of Christ, is now tasked with taking the Gospel message not only to the rulers of the earth, as Paul does in Acts, but to “the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms” as Ephesians 3 says.

We see in the book of Acts that Paul, after his dramatic Damascus Road conversion, becomes the most prominent representative of the new Christian faith to the gentile world. From Asia Minor, whence Paul hailed, westward to Rome, Paul’s missionary journeys and the connections he made along the way were instrumental in the spread of the faith in the northern Mediterranean region. Along the way, Paul finds himself before a number of prominent Roman political figures as he’s defending himself for preaching the good news of Jesus.

To summarize, in Acts 21, Paul is arrested in Jerusalem, but when the Roman commander realized Paul was a natural-born Roman citizen, they had to change their approach to him. He was brought before the governor of the region at the time, Felix, who kept Paul in prison “as a favor to the Jews.” Felix was recalled by Rome and replaced by Festus, who was a more even-handed governor. Festus wanted Paul to stand trial before the Jews, but Paul took full advantage of his Roman citizenship and appealed to Caesar instead. Festus refers the matter to King Herod Agrippa, where Paul recounts his conversion experience. In the end, Agrippa concludes that Paul could have been set free had he not appealed to Caesar. Paul asked Agrippa if he believed what the prophets said about Jesus, but Agrippa’s famous response was, “Do you think that in such a short time you can persuade me to be a Christian?”

Had Jesus been born into royalty, riches, or political power, his message surely would have been lost on the world because of how corrupt and power hungry the rulers of the world were in that day and age. The evidence of the power of the Gospel, the good news that Jesus preached and lived out, is found in the body of Christ today. We are his hands. We are his feet. We are his messengers, advocates, warriors, defenders. Without this testimony of the great cloud of witnesses and the growing, flourishing church in Paul’s day, his message before the rulers of the Roman rule would have surely fallen on deaf ears.

You and I may never be arrested and brought to trial for our faith, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still testify to and before our own political leaders, be they local, county, State, or federal positions. The beauty of living in a republic, “if you can keep it” said Ben Franklin, is that we do have the freedom to speak out, even if the expression of faith is becoming increasingly less popular. Paul’s courage to speak of his faith in a time when he could have been (and was) imprisoned or even put to death should be a testimony to those of us who, at least on paper, cannot and should not be imprisoned for speaking our beliefs.

But Paul takes this one step further in Ephesians 3:1–12, which is the evergreen epistles passage for Epiphany. Listen to his words:

For this reason I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus for the sake of you Gentiles—

Surely you have heard about the administration of God’s grace that was given to me for you, that is, the mystery made known to me by revelation, as I have already written briefly. In reading this, then, you will be able to understand my insight into the mystery of Christ, which was not made known to people in other generations as it has now been revealed by the Spirit to God’s holy apostles and prophets. This mystery is that through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body, and sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus.

I became a servant of this gospel by the gift of God’s grace given me through the working of his power. Although I am less than the least of all the Lord’s people, this grace was given me: to preach to the Gentiles the boundless riches of Christ, and to make plain to everyone the administration of this mystery, which for ages past was kept hidden in God, who created all things. 10 His intent was that now, through the church, the manifold wisdom of God should be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms, 11 according to his eternal purpose that he accomplished in Christ Jesus our Lord. 12 In him and through faith in him we may approach God with freedom and confidence. 13 I ask you, therefore, not to be discouraged because of my sufferings for you, which are your glory. [1]

After confirming that the wall of separation between Jews and us Gentiles has been forever demolished and that we are, in fact, coheirs with God’s chosen people, Paul expands the audience for our evangelism “to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms.” In other words, when we speak forth God’s word and testify about Jesus, his one and only son, our words have eternal impact “in the heavenly realms.” When we act upon our faith, be it through service or speaking, our actions and words have eternal impact “in the heavenly realms.”

We can view Epiphany, then, as a time to introduce Jesus to those around us, whether that be through service and ministry or just the casual conversations we have in daily life. Depending on the nature of your relationships, those introductions can be very basic or go more in depth. Just as the disciples early on probably didn’t grasp the fullness of who Jesus was just based on his teachings and occasional healing, they needed more experience with Jesus. When Peter, James, and John witnessed the transfiguration, they began to understand more fully who Jesus was. Our goal should be to help people see and experience the divine nature of Jesus as well.

Once they come to accept that, it becomes more natural to talk about Jesus’s death and resurrection and what those events mean for our salvation and hope. That is, if you will, the “Lenten season” of our lives, as we remind ourselves of the sacrifice Jesus made and that he was preparing his disciples to accept when the time of his crucifixion would come. And as we remind ourselves of that and affirm or renew our commitment to Christ, we can bring others along with us as well.

In the beginning, I asked what was the “takeaway” for the magi who had worshiped Jesus and given him gifts. Although we don’t have specific examples of what they did, I think what we’ve seen here in Acts and Ephesians today is that God wanted to establish his church before any formal outreach began to earthly or heavenly rulers and authorities. Paul seems to have understood that it was the job of the church, the body of Christ, to carry out the ministry of preaching to earthly rulers so that all the world might know eventually.

If you’ve never heard this message of Epiphany before, consider yourselves introduced to Jesus! If you have heard this message before, then this is an invitation for you to introduce him to others. God loves us and wants the best for us, which is why he sent Jesus in the first place. The more we introduce others to Jesus, the more the good news of his kingdom spreads. Grace and peace to you all in this new year, and especially in this season of Epiphany. Amen.


[1] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

Scott Stocking.

My views are my own

Follow and communicate with me on Facebook: Sunday Morning Greek Blog (FB)

December 31, 2023

Praising the Savior (Luke 2:22–40)

I preached this sermon at Mount View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE, on December 31, 2023, the First Sunday After Christmas on the liturgical calendar year B. I was on the back end of a cold, so I sound a little different.

Last Sunday, Christmas Eve, I had the privilege of baptizing my half-sister at my home church. Thirty-three years and day before that, December 23, 1990, I had been present at her dedication and baptism at the Lutheran church on N. 30th Street. My dad and her mom wanted me to be her “sponsor” or “Godfather.” It was a distinct honor to come full circle like that on a commitment I quite frankly had little influence on in her early life because I lived 500 miles away.

Lindee’s story parallels my own faith journey as I’ve shared with you in past, but our stories both parallel the life of Jesus in this regard as well, and we see the first part of that story in our passage today. Mary and Joseph take Jesus to the Temple to go through the Jewish purification rites. Mary had to wait 40 days to be purified from giving birth, which as we all know involves some blood. But because Jesus was also a firstborn son, he had to be dedicated to the service of the Lord as the Israelites were commanded in Exodus. That involved a sacrifice as well, as we see in the final “plague” of the Exodus. And of course we know that Jesus was baptized as an adult “to fulfill all righteousness,” as Matthew records. The Western church recognizes that event the day after Epiphany next week.[1]

Now when you and I dedicate ourselves to raising our children in the Lord, whatever that looks like from your perspective, I would venture to guess none of us has any idea what our kids are going to be like some thirty years later. But Mary and Joseph encountered two people in the Temple that day of Jesus’s consecration who seemed to know quite a bit about what Jesus would be doing thirty years later.

Simeon’s prophecy about Jesus is both encouraging and haunting. On the one hand, he is saying that Jesus is the light to the Gentiles Isaiah spoke of in Chapter 9 of his prophecy. But then it takes a darker turn, speaking of the rising and falling of many and that he would be a sign spoken against. The final part of his prophecy to Mary is the most haunting of all: “And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” That little word “too” at the end of the prophecy reveals that Jesus is destined for incredible suffering at some point in the future, which we now know was the cross. Mary witnessed that event as well, so you can imagine the pain she must have felt.

Anna also had what at least on the surface appears to be an encouraging prophecy as well, giving thanks to God, but she mentions the redemption of Jerusalem. Now I know we may tend to throw around these $20 religious words like “salvation” and “redemption” without thinking more deeply about what they imply, but the Jews would have understood from their sacrificial system that “salvation” and “redemption” both required blood sacrifices in the Old Testament. So even as Simeon and Anna spoke over the infant Jesus, their words prefigured in some way, subtle or not, that Jesus would suffer death at some point.

It’s hard to say what the son of God knew or understood as an infant when he heard these words. His human side would not have understood them, but his divine nature surely would have, and how those two natures worked together will perhaps forever be a beautiful mystery to us. But the text in Luke goes on to say that Jesus’s parents took Jesus to the Passover every year in Jerusalem, so Jesus, as he grew older, began to understand that the Temple wasn’t just a place of worship, but his own spiritual home, because the Temple was his Father’s house.

It’s a fair extrapolation, I think, to assume that Jesus and his family were regulars in the local synagogue as well when they weren’t in Jerusalem for the Passover. Luke gives us just a glimpse of Jesus as a preteen with the story of him staying behind to school the teachers of the law in the Temple courts. Now if he was doing that with the teachers in the Temple, can you imagine what he must have been like in the local synagogue? We don’t see Jesus begin his ministry until he was thirty years old, but what was he like as a young adult? Did he give the synagogue leader some pointers after each message? Surely he didn’t live in isolation as a young man. Were the women oohing and aahing about his theological prowess? I’m guessing not. He was probably a Nazarite like Samson, except he knew how to behave himself, which is why we never read about him getting married. He was off limits to women, because he was laser-focused on preparing for his ministry as the Messiah.

All of what I’ve said up to this point is more or less an intellectual exercise, examining the history and background around the birth and dedication of Jesus and the times he lived in. But what are some takeaways for us? What are some things we can do to help our kids and grandkids raise their own kids so they can take ownership of their faith and understand God’s purposes for them in this day and age?

The most obvious takeaway for us is the importance of gathering with God’s people in God’s house. For the Jews, that was primarily the local synagogue, with the Temple being a special destination, one to three times a year depending on how often people could make the journey. For us Christians, we really don’t have anything akin to the Temple, so it’s the local church that’s important.

I’ve often had people tell me, and perhaps you’ve experienced this as well, that you don’t need to go to church to be a Christian. I would beg to differ. As believers, we are part of the body of Christ; we may be set apart from the world in God’s eyes, but we are not set apart from our brothers and sisters in Christ. We are united essentially, intentionally, and constitutionally in God’s eyes through Christ. Wherever God has a child, we have a sibling in Christ. Hebrews 10:24 and 25 puts it this way:

24 And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, 25 not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.[2]

Most of us who have grown up in the church recognize this distinctly. We recognize the power of connection and the shared purpose and goals that develop from such a connection. The local church is not just a place where we come to be uplifted and encouraged, but where we can also uplift and encourage others. It is a community with bonds that are not easily broken.

Related to this is the idea of service. Some churches have signs above the doors that exit out of their sanctuaries that say, “You are now entering the mission field.” In Acts 6, we see the apostles were concerned about the Hellenistic Jewish widows who were being overlooked in the distribution of food. They gathered everyone together and quickly worked out a solution and appointed capable people to handle that specific ministry. That couldn’t have happened if everyone was doing their own thing.

Another takeaway for us comes from the responses of Simeon and Anna. Granted, they had some prophetic insight into who the baby Jesus was and how he fit into God’s plan for salvation and redemption, but we now have the hindsight to know exactly what that looked like. Just as Simeon and Anna praised God for who he is and what he was doing through Jesus, so to can we praise God for who he is, what he has done for us through the death and resurrection of Jesus, and what he is doing in us through the work of the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Our reading from Psalm 148 gives us some hints about how we can praise God:

11 kings of the earth and all nations,

you princes and all rulers on earth,

12 young men and women,

old men and children.

13 Let them praise the name of the Lord,

for his name alone is exalted;

his splendor is above the earth and the heavens. [3]

Like attending church, praise is not just an individual effort we make to show our gratitude to God. Praise also flows from our experience together as a community, especially as we see the fruit of our mutual and collective labors. It also flows from reading and hearing about God’s great works in the service. Psalm 148 also has several references to God’s wonderful creation that is available to all mankind, not just to those of us who believe.

One final thought about Luke’s passage here: Simeon especially indicates that following Jesus is going to cause people to take sides. We see more and more in our world today the antagonism toward the good news of Jesus. This is all the more reason for us to maintain community on the one hand, so there’s strength in numbers. But also we can take a unified stand for righteousness and truth and send a powerful message of unity and steadfastness to the world.

As we look forward to the new year, then, let us resolve and recommit ourselves to serving and praising God and meeting together as body of believers to carry out the various ministries he’s called us to. Together, we can be shining lights in a world of darkness, a beacon of hope amidst the signs of fear and despair. Amen.


[1] I removed the following because I didn’t want the sermon to get too long, and I didn’t want to dive into the topic of adult baptism with an older congregation.

But the parallel doesn’t stop there. I think most of us recognize that next week is Epiphany, where the Western church celebrates the visit of the Magi to the baby Jesus. But how many of you know that the day after Epiphany is the recognition of Jesus’s baptism by John? Even though John knew he needed to be baptized by Jesus, and even though Jesus knew he was the son of God and sinless and had no need to “repent and be baptized” as John was preaching, still Matthew records Jesus’s desire that he be baptized “to fulfill all righteousness.”

[2] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[3] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

March 4, 2023

Life Lessons From a Year Through the Lectionary (Isaiah 58–61)

Background

I’m in the midst of a few weeks off from preaching, so I’ve had some time to reflect on the past 14 months of preaching through the Lectionary/Liturgical Calendar[1] at the behest of my childhood home church, Mt. View Presbyterian in Omaha. At the beginning of 2022, they had asked me to follow the Revised Common Lectionary, because that makes it easy for their small church to plan out bulletins and coordinate with other guest preachers.

It’s kind of like being back in seminary, having a different assignment due every two weeks or so, and because I’m not afraid of any challenge when it comes to preaching the Bible, I wholeheartedly agreed. I will admit as well that it’s beneficial to me, because I don’t have to think about topics in advance. Lincoln (IL) Christian Seminary taught me some great skills when it comes to hermeneutics (the science of interpretation) and homiletics (the skills for preaching), so I already know how to go through the motions to prepare.

Although I was raised in the Presbyterian faith and went through my church’s confirmation process, not much of that stuck as a sixth grader (or however old I was at the time). By the time I got to high school, I had begun to form my own ideas about my faith, and I started to look for something that was grounded more directly in Scripture and less reliant on the “traditions of men.” I found that home in the Restoration Movement (independent Christian Church) when I went to college.

The Restoration Movement traces its roots to the frontier Midwest (Kentucky, Pennsylvania, Ohio areas) where a group of preachers decided the best way to “do” church was to primarily stick to what the Bible said and not make manmade creeds or religious rules a test of faith or fidelity. “No creed but Christ; no book but the Bible”; “Where Scripture speaks, we speak; where they are silent there’s freedom” or “we’re silent.” Accordingly, things like the Liturgical Calendar or traditional Holy Days were downplayed, unless there was biblical precedent (e.g., the birth of Christ announced by angels). Historically, we’ve operated under the principle that the operations of God’s grace are not dictated by the Liturgical Calendar or any other calendar.

The operations of God’s grace are not dictated by the Liturgical Calendar or any other calendar.

While I still generally operate under that principle, I have come to discover the biblical underpinnings of many of the Holy Days or Seasons. In addition to that, I have come to see how important some of these traditions are to the Mt. View congregation as currently constituted. I have been refreshed and uplifted in my faith in God and my knowledge of his word by the work I’ve had to do to prepare messages based on the Lectionary readings for a particular Sunday. As such, I want to take the opportunity of this article to share what I’ve discovered about some of the lesser-known Holy Days and Seasons, at least among those in the Restoration Movement tradition, and perhaps encourage my brothers and sisters in the Restoration Movement to consider a more intentional approach to them.

Advent: Preparing for the Coming Messiah

As with most things, it’s best to start at the beginning, so I want to take a look at Advent first. The Lectionary cycles through three years (Years A, B, and C) of readings, and Advent marks the beginning of the new liturgical year.[2] As you might imagine, Advent is the most familiar to me. I have fond memories of getting the Advent calendars with chocolate or other goodies in them (maybe even a Bible verse?) and especially of lighting the Advent candles in church service with my family. I know our family got to do it at least one Advent Sunday when I was growing up.

What I had forgotten was that each Sunday in Advent had its own special theme. This may vary among the traditions, but the four common themes are usually Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love. For Advent 2022 (Year A of the new cycle), the OT passages focused on Isaiah.[3] What I find interesting is that many of these passages could have dual fulfillment, referring both to the first coming of the Messiah and the second coming of the Messiah. For example, Isaiah 2:3 (Year A, first Sunday) mentions going to the temple where God will teach his ways, while 2:4 speaks of beating swords into plowshares, which is typically associated with the second coming.

Isaiah 11:1–2 (second Sunday) speaks of Jesus as the one upon whom the Spirit of the Lord will rest, while 11:4 says “He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth.” Isaiah 35 (third Sunday) appears to reference much of Jesus’s healing ministry, but vs. 4 speaks God coming with vengeance. Isaiah 7:14 (fourth Sunday) is the prophecy Matthew quotes about the virgin birth of Christ, even though it has a partial fulfillment in the immediate chapters of Isaiah following that. Isaiah 9 (“For unto us a Child is born”) is the annual passage for Christmas Eve service.

It’s easy to see, then, why many of the Jews at the time of Jesus’s ministry were looking for a Messiah that would overthrow Roman rule. This led me to an important realization: God’s people have never lived in a time where they had no expectation of a coming Messiah, except perhaps for those who were close to the Messiah during his earthly ministry. Even though scholars are fairly certain that Jesus was not born in the month of December, the celebration of Advent along with Christmas not only as a retrospective on Jesus’s birth and first coming and all the heavenly fanfare that went along with that, but also as a prospective look at the second coming of Christ is still highly relevant to Christians today, especially in our current culture and climate.

God’s people have never lived in a time where they had no expectation of a coming Messiah.

Epiphany

I recently posted my Epiphany message, A Pastor’s Epiphany About Epiphany (Matthew 2:1–12; Isaiah 60:1–6; Psalm 72), so I won’t say too much about that here. The title pretty much sums it up. Epiphany focuses on the visit of the magi to Jesus, which, if you read the Gospel account closely, seems to come a few days after the birth of Christ (historically 12 days after, but there’s no biblical text to suggest that time frame); Jesus’s family was in a house by that time. Focusing on the Isaiah passage here, which is the same every year in the Lectionary, reveals some interesting clues to where the magi came from.

As I was preparing the Epiphany message, I realized that I’d never really heard anyone in the Restoration Movement talk about where these magi had come from. That seemed pretty odd to me given that we’re supposed to focus on examining the Scriptures to figure out the truth. I’d heard about David Longnecker’s Mystery of the Magi in a news report. The book gives a detailed analysis of where these magi may have lived and what their connection was to Jewish history and prophecy. As it turns out, these magi were probably not from Persia, because Persia was in decline at the time. Rather, they were probably from some diaspora Jews that never made it to Babylon and settled in communities east of the Jordan river and Dead Sea, and perhaps as far south as Midian. They were known as Nabateans. They would have had a more intimate knowledge of Messianic prophecy and seem to fit the demographic and economic descriptions in the Isaiah 60 passage, as I explain in my message. Isaiah 60:1 may refer to the star they followed; they were at the crossroads of several prominent trade routes; and “Nebaioth” is mentioned, which may well be the root of the name of the Nabateans.

If there’s any application to this knowledge, I think it’s that we need to learn to recognize the signs of the times to anticipate the second coming of Christ, which ties in to the secondary theme of Advent. The Nabateans appear to have been diligently searching the skies and paying attention to the signs, because they did not want to miss the coming of the Messiah they had hoped for as well.

“Jesus would probably laugh at us for giving up things like chocolate, beer, coffee…all the things that actually bring us joy and make us happy.”

Lent

In the past couple weeks since Lent began, I’ve had one friend ask whether I observe Ash Wednesday, and another ask me what I thought about a Facebook post about one person’s unique take on Lent. Here’s a quote cited in the post from a priest he’d heard:

“Jesus would probably laugh at us for giving up things like chocolate, beer, coffee…all the things that actually bring us joy and make us happy.

What He might suggest is giving up the things that make us miserable in God’s Paradise.

Things like self doubt, insecurities, jealousy, greed, and gossip and anger.

The things that move us away from The Light.

Honor His sacrifice by giving up The Darkness in your Life.”

Now I’ve never given up anything for Lent, because I don’t observe it. And I’ve never had ashes placed on my forehead to initiate a Lenten fast. But I thought what this priest he’s quoting said made a lot of sense. But here’s where my initial principle comes into play: the operation of God’s grace isn’t limited to a calendar or a season. Shouldn’t we always be giving up the darkness in our lives so we can more fully know God? That’s a good way to live to be sure, and I commend anyone who can do that, but if it’s something we should give up permanently, then is it really a fast? Is it really a sacrifice to give up something that’s bad for us?

Before I even looked at the Lectionary for what passage is assigned for Lent, I knew Isaiah 58 was really the best definition of fasting we have in the Bible. As it turns out, that is the evergreen passage for Lent. The problem as I see it with concept of Lent as a personal fast is that it is somewhat self-centered. Sure, the presumed motivation is to get closer to God, but how does giving up a food item or certain activity actually accomplish that? And again, if it’s something that you know is bad for you anyway, why do you need the backdrop of a religious Holy Season to accomplish it?

If we look at Isaiah’s description of fasting, though, there’s really nothing selfish about how it should be. There’s no talk of personal sacrifice or personal wellbeing. In fact, Isaiah (58:5) scolds his readers for thinking of fasting in just such a way:

5 Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,

only a day for people to humble themselves?

Is it only for bowing one’s head like a reed

and for lying in sackcloth and ashes?

Is that what you call a fast,

a day acceptable to the Lord?[4]

Isaiah then goes on to describe what the Lord expects from our fasting, and there’s nothing selfish about it, except that when we do the hard things, then we have a reward waiting for us. What are the hard things (vv. 6–7, 9b–10a)?

  • Loose the chains of injustice
  • Untie the cords of the yoke
  • Set the oppressed free and satisfy their needs
  • Break every yoke
  • Share your food with the hungry by spending yourself on their behalf
  • Provide the poor wanderer with shelter
  • Clothe the naked
  • Not turn away from our own flesh and blood
  • Do away with the blame game and malicious talk

What are the resulting rewards? They’re commensurate with the degree to which we work toward accomplishing the hard stuff! This isn’t legalism, though. This is what it means to show our faith by what we do, not just by what we say. We talk the talk AND walk the walk. Integrity.

  • Your light will break forth like the dawn
  • Your healing will appear quickly
  • Your righteousness will go before you
  • The glory of the LORD will be your rear guard
  • You will call, and the LORD will answer
  • You will cry for help, and he will be there for you
  • Your light will rise in the darkness, like the noonday sun
  • The LORD will always guide you, satisfy you, and strengthen you.

And so on and so on and so on.

In the Old Testament, most references to fasting are about a community fasting, not individuals. When it occurs in the books of pre-exilic history, it often refers to a prebattle ritual. David fasted for his first child with Bathsheba, but to no avail. In the post-exilic history, fasting is mentioned in connection with restoring Jerusalem to a semblance of its pre-exilic state (e.g., compare Isaiah 58:12 to Isaiah 61:4). In the New Testament, most references to fasting are about what to do when you fast. There’s very little mention of its purpose, although the reference to John’s disciples fasting most likely indicates they were waiting for the Messiah.

In the Old Testament, most references to fasting are about a community fasting, not individuals.

Above, I made a parenthetical reference to Isaiah 61 with respect to rebuilding ancient ruins. Nehemiah fasted before taking on the project to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. But do you know what else is significant about Isaiah 61? That is the passage Jesus uses for his own ministry in Luke’s account, immediately after Jesus spends 40 days fasting in the wilderness. His words sound very much like the purpose of fasting in Isaiah 58. Jesus fasted for 40 days in the wilderness because he knew he had big things, Isaiah 58 big things, to accomplish in his ministry, so he did it right. Check out Isaiah 61:1–3a and see if that doesn’t sound a lot like Isaiah 58:

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

3           and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,

the oil of joy instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.[5]

So fasting is for the big things; the big decisions. The Gospels do hint that fasting had taken on a more individual application in some cases, but I don’t think its purpose, as outlined in Isaiah 58, was ever diminished. Jesus set the standard for fasting. Another interesting aspect of fasting in the NT: it’s never mentioned after Acts, and only twice in Acts 13:2–3 around a decision about whom to send out to the Gentiles.

The application for the modern church seems clear, then. While there does seem to be something to be gained by fasting personally, the more important goal the Scriptures (and Jesus) have in fasting is justice, especially for the poor and oppressed. The Scriptures also seem clear, both in the OT and especially with John’s disciples in the NT, that corporate fasting is much more powerful and effective in God’s kingdom economy.

Conclusion (for now)

This post is already pretty long, so I’ll forego discussing Easter through Passover, which makes up the last of the Holy Seasons in the Liturgical Calendar. The rest of the Sundays in the Liturgical Calendar after Passover are identified as “Propers,” 29 of them for the remainder of 2023. That seems kind of unusual to me to have the major church Holy Days packed into five months of the year. Do we need 22 weeks a year to get ready for the other 30 weeks? Is the liturgical year intended to be a microcosm of the Christian life: we educate ourselves about who Christ is and what he’s done for us early on so that we can walk faithfully for the rest of our lives?

I’d love to hear your stories about how these Holy Days or Holy Seasons have impacted you. As I said before, I’d never really given them much thought until this last year, so I’ve tried to look at them from an outsider’s perspective, since I have little to no historical experience with these things. I do hope my brothers and sisters in the Restoration Movement will consider my words here and how they can present these Holy Days and Seasons in a fresh new way to reach those who may have lost their way for whatever reasons. I think the body of Christ will benefit greatly if we can discover a new appreciation for the Liturgical Calendar.

My opinions are my own.

Scott Stocking


[1] The Liturgical Calendar is the order of the Holy Days and Seasons. The Lectionary represents the assigned Scripture texts for each day that are used in the worship service or as the basis for the message on any given day of the Liturgical Calendar. My focus here is primarily on those events that happen on Sundays.

[2] The new liturgical year formally begins on the Thursday before the first Sunday in Advent. This is usually the last Thursday of November, so this is typically Thanksgiving Day, unless November has five Thursdays.

[3] For some Holy Days, the passages are different from year to year in the cycle, but are the same in the respective years of each cycle. So year A has the same passages for Advent in 2019, 2022, 2025, etc.; Year B for 2020, 2023, 2026, etc.. For other Holy Days, Epiphany and Lent, for example, the passages are the same for all three years in the cycle and thus across all cycles.

[4] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[5] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

February 27, 2023

A Pastor’s Epiphany About Epiphany (Matthew 2:1–12; Isaiah 60:1–6; Psalm 72)

Click Play above to hear the message.

I preached this message on January 8, 2023, the first Sunday after Epiphany (January 6), at Mt. View Presbyterian Church in Omaha. As I say in my message, I had never really given much thought to this “Holy Day,” because the brotherhood I’m associated with today doesn’t typically do anything special with any Holy Days except Christmas and Easter. There may be a divine component as to why I’m posting this almost two months after preaching the message. I was recently drawn into a couple conversations on Lent and Ash Wednesday by friends who are from a Catholic and another mainline Protestant tradition, respectively, and together, the Holy Spirit has been using these experiences to prompt me to take a fresh look at these Holy Days that I had dismissed out-of-hand as traditions of man. Look for another blog post soon on what my thought process has been in that regard. The message is lightly edited for publication.

Historical Background

Epiphany. As English words go, it’s kind of a funny sounding word, don’t you think? When I hear that “piff” sound in the word, it reminds me of the sound I make when I think something is too easy for me. For those outside of mainline denominations, if they know the word at all, it probably doesn’t have any sort of religious or Christian meaning for them: when someone says, “I had an epiphany,” they’re not talking about a cheeseburger from Dinker’s, although that could be a close comparison for burger lovers. Anybody hungry now? In that sense of the word, an epiphany moment is when you see the light, discover your purpose, or understand clearly what action you must take to set your life on a better and more prosperous path.

But for those of us in the Western church, the “Epiphany,” theeeee “Epiphany” is not just some moment you have internally, but it’s a series of events surrounding one person, Jesus Christ, that has impact on the whole human race eternally. It is the short period of time surrounding the birth of Jesus where not only is he revealed as God’s Messiah to the shepherds in the fields, but also to the Magi from the East, wherever that may have been. Now when we were kids and did the Christmas nativity scene in the front of the sanctuary, the Magi were always there with the shepherds. Did you notice in Matthew’s text where the Magi encountered Jesus: it wasn’t in the manger; it was in a house! More on that later. First, I want to look a little bit at the word itself.

Now as I’ve grown and matured as a Christian and a preacher, I’ve come to adopt the view that I should call Bible things by Bible names, where practical, so that when I talk about something biblical, I can point to the Bible and say: “Here it is.” But sometimes we use words that aren’t in the Bible, at least, not in our English translations, to summarize biblical concepts. “Trinity” is one of those words that isn’t in the Bible, but the Bible is pretty clear about the triune relationship among the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Word Study on ἐπιφαίνω (epiphainō)

Similarly, the word “Epiphany” is not found in the text of our English translations, but the word is simply borrowed from a family of words we have in the Greek version of the Old Testament and the Greek New Testament. It is an intensified form of a word that means “appear” or “make known.” Half of its uses in the OT Greek text are found in the phrase “make your face shine upon us” (Numbers 6:25 and several passages in the Psalms), and a few other uses refer to God revealing himself to someone.

In the NT, the noun is used 5 times in 1 & 2 Timothy and Titus to refer to either the first or second “appearing” of the Savior. The verb is used by Zechariah in his song of praise in Luke 1 to refer to Mary’s child as “the rising sun [who] will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness.” It’s also used twice in Titus to refer to “the grace of God” and “the kindness and love of God our Savior” appearing.

Now the thing that makes this an “intensified” word, that is, to use the Greek, an EPIphainō and not just a phainō, is the nature of what was revealed. This is where the Magi come in. Historically, according to the Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, the term was first used of a church feast on January 6 in the Eastern church in the third century, and originally focused on the baptism of Jesus, where the Holy Spirit descended like a dove on him and God said, “This is my beloved Son, with him I am well pleased.” To this day, the Eastern Orthodox church still focuses on the baptism of Christ on Epiphany. However, when the Western church adopted the Holy Day, they switched the focus to the visit of the Magi, whose gifts revealed that Jesus was the Son of God, the expected heir of David’s throne, the Messiah. It wasn’t until the 20th century that the Western (i.e., Roman Catholic) church separated out the celebration of the baptism of Christ to the first Sunday after Epiphany, which happens to be today according to the Lectionary we follow here!

Background of the Magi

So who were these Magi and where did they come from? Why did they have such a profound interest in identifying “his star” and following it to find the king? How would they even know about such a star? Was it prophesied somewhere, or was it just some oral tradition that had circulated through the Middle East for centuries?

As it turns out, there are a couple prophecies from the Old Testament that seem to refer to the star, the Magi or kings who would bring gifts, and where they come from. The two OT passages identified every year in the lectionary for January 6, Epiphany, are Isaiah 60 and Psalm 72, the latter of which we already read this morning. We’ll come back to those in a moment. Traditionally, for hundreds of years, we’ve believed that these Magi from the East came from Persia, the region of modern-day Iran and Iraq. It’s true that Magi, or wise men, were well respected and wielded a great deal of political power in their heyday, especially as we see in the book of Daniel.

But in the excellent book called Mystery of the Magi by Dwight Longenecker, the author pulls together the history of the Persian Magi from several sources and shows that, by the time of Jesus’s birth, these Magi had lost most of their political power and influence after Alexander the Great conquered their territory and up through the time the Parthians had wrested control from Alexander’s successors. At the time of Christ’s birth, then, the Persian magi had become marginalized to the point of near exile and poverty, and their political ties to the Roman Empire were on such shaky ground that they would not have had the resources or the political influence to make such a trip to see the newborn king, let alone bring gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

Enter the Nabateans. The Nabateans were an up-and-coming nation that inhabited the territory east of the Jordan River, from as far north as Damascus and as far south as the Arabian peninsula, including Midian and perhaps even modern-day Yemen. One of their most prominent cities was Petra, you know, that city with “Treasury” carved out of the side of a cliff. They had begun to come into prominence after the Jews were exiled to Babylon. In fact, many of the Jews who were exiled probably never made it to Babylon, because according to historians, there were several Jewish colonies scattered throughout the region the Nabateans controlled, and several made their way to these colonies instead. These exiles most likely included priests who would have brought with them the knowledge of the prophets, psalms, and Torah to lead their brethren in worship.

By the time of Jesus’s birth, the Nabateans controlled many of the trade routes between Persia and the Mediterranean. As such, they had wealth and access to abundant supplies of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, not to mention some pretty slick technology to capture and provide water for their survival in the desert regions where they lived. Longenecker believes these Magi came from Nabatea, and they would have had a deep understanding of Jewish prophecies, because they had strong ancestral ties to the Jews and strong religious ties to the Temple.

Prophetic Background for Epiphany

Having laid out this background, then, I want us to look first at Isaiah 60 to see why they mention following a star to find the Messiah. Listen to verses 1 through 3:

“Arise, shine, for your light has come,

and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.

See, darkness covers the earth

and thick darkness is over the peoples,

but the Lord rises upon you

and his glory appears over you.

Nations will come to your light,

and kings to the brightness of your dawn. [1]

Doesn’t that sound kind of like a star rising? And what about “his glory appears over you”? Kind of sounds like Matthew’s description of the Magi coming to where the star “stopped over the place where the child was.” Where was this place? According to Isaiah 60:14, it is “the City of the Lord, Zion of the Holy One of Israel.” Where were Mary, Joseph, and Jesus? Well according to Matthew, by the time the Magi found him, they were in a house, not a stable. It’s not clear whether they were still in Bethlehem and where the star was in relation to Bethlehem and Jerusalem, but the context seems to suggest they were in or close to Bethlehem, because the area around Bethlehem was where Herod had the children under 2 killed. As such, I think it’s a fair assumption that this is at least the primary prophecy these Nabatean Magi had in mind. But let’s look a little further to be sure (vv. 4–5).

“Lift up your eyes and look about you:

All assemble and come to you;

your sons come from afar,

and your daughters are carried on the hip.

Then you will look and be radiant,

your heart will throb and swell with joy;

the wealth on the seas will be brought to you,

to you the riches of the nations will come. [2]

In Matthew’s story, we don’t have a count of how many Magi came to see Jesus. Again, tradition tries to fill in the gap by assigning one Magus to each gift. We know a bunch of shepherds had come to see baby Jesus in the manger, at the prompting of a “heavenly host” that hovered over them. If the Nabatean Magi thought this was such an important event, wouldn’t more than three of them have come? This would have been a pretty big deal for all of them! Add to that the Nabateans’ profitable trade industry, and you can see the connection to the “wealth on the seas” and the “riches of the nations” that could be brought to Israel.

Finally, vs. 6 names several cities that would have been in Nabatea, and vs. 7 mentions “the rams of Nebaioth.” Because the Nabateans do not have any surviving written documents we’re aware of, some have speculated that “Nebaioth” is actually the kingdom of the Nabateans. Verse 6 even mentions that “All those from Sheba shall come. They shall bring gold and frankincense.”[3] At the time, the only source of frankincense known was in Sheba in southern Arabia and Somaliland in Africa.

So it seems pretty clear that Isaiah 60 was in fact one of the prophecies these Magi looked forward to, not just because it predicted the coming of the Messiah, but because the Nabateans recognized that they had a role to fulfill in that prophecy.

Psalm 72 sounds quite a bit like Isaiah 61, the prophecy Jesus read about himself the first time we see him speaking in the synagogue, especially the parts about defending the afflicted, crushing the oppressor, delivering the needy, and rescuing the poor from oppression and violence. Note that vs. 10 also mentions Sheba twice in reference to bringing gifts and gold “kings of Sheba and Seba bring gifts.” Given all this, it seems highly likely to me that these Magi were important rulers among the Nabateans, both religious and political, and that they had an intimate and rich connection to Jewish religion, culture, and ancestry.

What Epiphany Means for Us

So this is a lot of information here this morning, but what does it mean for us today? The gifts brought by the Magi were not randomly chosen. As we saw in the Isaiah and Psalms passages, they were “planned” long before Christ was born, and these Magi knew that. Gold was brought as a tribute to a king. Today, of course, many of us give of our resources to the church or other organizations that help the needy. We use that money to share the good news of Jesus and the gospel with those who need hope. It reminds me of the parable of the hidden treasure in Matthew 13:44: When the man found the treasure, he sold all that he had to buy the field it was in. The gift of gold is an easy one to figure out for us. My guess is, Mary and Joseph may have used some of that gold when they had to flee to Egypt to provide for their own needs in that short exile.

The gift of frankincense applies to us at a deeper level, the level of the heart. Frankincense was used in the worship ceremonies in the Tabernacle in the wilderness and in the temple in Jerusalem. The rarity of frankincense, along with its pleasing aroma, is what makes it valuable. I think it’s a fair jump, then, to suggest that it can also represent our own individual uniqueness in what we ourselves have to offer to God in worship. Worship is not just a ceremony or a ritual we perform on a regular basis. Worship comes from the root word “worth,” and we show we consider Christ worthy by offering the whole of our uniqueness to him and his service. Perhaps the apostle Paul had this in mind when he wrote in 2 Corinthians 2:14–15: “But thanks be to God, who always leads us as captives in Christ’s triumphal procession and uses us to spread the aroma of the knowledge of him everywhere. For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.[4]

Finally, myrrh was used in part to ease severe pain, and also to prepare the body for the grave in that day. On the cross, Jesus was also offered wine mixed with myrrh, but according to Mark’s gospel, he refused it. Myrrh, then, can remind us that each of us must make ourselves ready for that day when we meet our Savior face to face in heaven, and are welcomed into our eternal home.

It occurs to me that Epiphany, then, is really a microcosm of the whole Christian experience. We celebrate the birth and revealing of Jesus as the Messiah, the dedication of our lives to him in worship, and the hope of eternal life that he purchased for us in his death and resurrection. And I have to say, preparing this message has been an “epiphany” for me. As a kid growing up in this church, I never thought much about Epiphany. I guess I was still too pumped up on the adrenaline I got from all my Christmas gifts to concern myself with the gifts presented to Jesus. As an adult, I never forgot my Presbyterian roots, but I had found a spiritual home among a brotherhood that had its own roots in Scottish Presbyterianism, but who didn’t have a separate recognition of this tradition—it was all wrapped up with Christmas. I never had a class in seminary about the traditions and what they signified in the “mainline” denominations.

So once again, I’ll say thank you for allowing me to share with you, and thank you for asking that I follow the Lectionary. I hope and pray our time together this morning has been as enlightening to you as it has been for me this week. Peace to you all. Amen.


[1] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[2] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[3] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. 2016. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles.

[4] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

December 5, 2022

Waiting for the Messiah…Again (Matthew 24:36–44)

God’s people have never lived without the hope of a coming Messiah!

Okay, we’re going to start with a little honesty quiz: How many of you have ever jumped to the last chapter of an intriguing book to skip the details and find out what happens to the main character, or for a mystery, to find out “whodunnit”? Whoever picked the order for the passages in the lectionary as we begin the new liturgical calendar must have been the type of person who likes to read the end of the book first, because on this first Sunday of Advent, as we begin to looking forward to celebrating the First Coming and birth of our savior, the lectionary committee chose to start with passages describing Jesus’s Second Coming!

But who can blame them, right? Even as God was confronting and scolding Adam and Eve for listening to the serpent in the Garden rather than heeding the one “thou shalt not” God had given them, he was already looking forward to a coming Messiah: the “seed of the woman” would crush the serpent’s head and win victory over death. He let Adam and Eve know that Jesus is coming, but there’s work to be done, so start the family line.

Sometime later, after the flood and a fresh start, God called Abraham to be the father of many nations. This was, in effect, a microcosm of the Creation itself. Just as God himself was the father of all nations through Adam and Eve, so Abraham would be the father of God’s chosen people, the Hebrews. And even though Abraham tried to (and did) make that happen according to his own will through Hagar and Ishmael, God still gave him the child of the promise, Isaac, through Sarah, and that at the ripe old age of 100. And even though Isaac was Sarah’s only child, God still tested Abraham to sacrifice his only son of the promise on the very mountain where the Messiah would be sacrificed on the cross nearly 2,000 years later. Abraham may not have known that Jesus was coming; there was work to do, a sacrifice to be made, and he understood that God would provide a sacrifice so we wouldn’t have to pay the price. In fact, Genesis 22:8 could be translated: “God will provide himself as the lamb.”

God called Moses to deliver his people from slavery in Egypt. After being raised in the lap of luxury in Pharaoh’s court, Moses realized how poorly the Egyptians were treating his own people, and he rebelled and fled to Midian. There he encountered Yahweh, the “I am,” in a burning bush, not realizing that several centuries later, God’s own son would use the name “I am” of himself seven times. God used Moses’s second 40 years of his life to prepare him to lead his chosen people out of slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land. Jesus was coming; there was work to be done, a nation to be rescued from the clutches of Egypt and led into its own inheritance where Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob once dwelt.

The problem with a theocracy is that, if the leaders and the people aren’t going to be faithful to the God at the head of the theocracy, things probably aren’t going to work too well. After several cycles of faithful obedience, rebellion, captivity, and rescue during the period of the Judges, the Jews thought their answer might be found in a king, just like the nations around them. God knew better, but because the people insisted on it, God let them have their way. They made their first choice, Saul, based seemingly on his appearance, a man who stood taller than the rest. But after proving to be an utter failure, God called David to be anointed as their king.

But God did something else when he called David: he knew that their earthly kings, all of whom would be descended from David’s line, would follow the same cycle of Judges over their collective history. The people were beginning to understand this as well, that no human ruler, whether priest or king, could ever really bring them satisfaction as a political ruler or religious leader. Knowing this, God made an additional promise, that the Messiah they’d heard whispers about through their history would come from the lineage of David. Not only would he be a king, but he would also be a priest “in the order of Melchizedek.” Psalm 110, written by David, became the Messianic psalm that embodied that hope:

The Lord says to my lord:

“Sit at my right hand

until I make your enemies

a footstool for your feet.”

The Lord will extend your mighty scepter from Zion, saying,

“Rule in the midst of your enemies!”

Your troops will be willing

on your day of battle.

Arrayed in holy splendor,

your young men will come to you

like dew from the morning’s womb. j

The Lord has sworn

and will not change his mind:

“You are a priest forever,

in the order of Melchizedek.”

The Lord is at your right hand;

he will crush kings on the day of his wrath.

He will judge the nations, heaping up the dead

and crushing the rulers of the whole earth.

He will drink from a brook along the way,

and so he will lift his head high. [1]

This is the psalm Jesus used to confound the pharisees: They knew the Messiah would be the son of David, but they couldn’t figure out why “father” David would call his “son” or descendant “Lord.” It just didn’t work that way in Jewish culture. This psalm narrowed the focus for the Jews about where the Messiah would come from, so they made every effort to keep track of who was born to whom, thus the early chapters of 1 Chronicles that happen to agree with Matthew’s genealogy. The Jews knew a Messiah was coming, but there was work to be done. They had to establish the royal line from which their ultimate king, their Messiah, would be born.

From that point on, the prophets take up the task of filling in some of the details of the coming Messiah. Isaiah tells us Emmanuel will be born of a virgin, and he will bring light to the Gentiles, and Micah tells us this will happen in Bethlehem (5:2). Isaiah tells us that not only will the Messiah be a servant to God’s people, but a suffering servant who will be wounded for our transgressions and bruised for our iniquities. Isaiah goes on to tell us he will be an overcoming servant who will bring us hope not only in the present, but in the closing chapters of his prophecy the promise of a new heaven and new earth! He speaks of the second coming of the Messiah even though the first coming of the Messiah hasn’t happened yet, demonstrating how sure Isaiah is of this hope.

Jeremiah speaks of a restored kingdom and a new covenant in which God will “put his law in their minds and write it on their hearts” (31:33). Ezekiel says more than once that God will remove our hearts of stone and give us new hearts of flesh and a new Spirit. He also says that someday, a new temple would be built to house the glory of God. Ezekiel calls his readers to be watchmen and shepherds protecting God’s people from danger. Zechariah may even unwittingly give us a clue to the Messiah’s name, as Joshua, the Hebrew form of Jesus’s name, is the high priest who eventually receives a crown. Zechariah goes on to speak of the victorious king coming in power riding on a donkey. Joel speaks of God’s Spirit being poured out on all flesh.

Jesus is coming! That moment is getting closer every day, and the hope of that day seems to grow more intense as the Jews return from exile and rebuild Jerusalem and eventually the temple. The Messiah is coming soon, and there’s still work to be done: building, restoring, encouraging faithfulness, being a light to the nations around them. He must be coming soon, right?

But what was God’s next move? Silence. From the end of the Old Testament to the beginning of the New Testament, we have no prophetic record. Complete prophetic silence. I’d like to think that, at least in part, this was due to the Jews finally figuring out how to live as God’s chosen people without man-made institutions and without the former ups and downs of their faithfulness to God. But there are a couple historical events that impact the world and prepare it for the coming Messiah: First, the passionate defense of the integrity of God’s temple against Antioch Epiphanes, who had desecrated the temple by sacrificing a pig there. This led to the rise of the Herodian dynasty. Second, the Jews began working on translating their writings into the Greek language that Alexander the Great and his successors had spread throughout the Mediterranean region and points east, making it the universal language of the day, so that God’s word could spread far and wide in the common tongue of the day. Jesus is coming, and finally, the work is done, and the time has come for the Messiah to be born.

And so we come to the gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus. Matthew and Luke record genealogies of Jesus; Matthew from Joseph’s line, and Luke from Mary’s line. John connects Jesus to the imagery of light from Isaiah’s prophecy, and Mark dispenses with all that and jumps straight to the ministry of Jesus. All the gospel writers in their own unique styles either connect the OT prophecies to Jesus or put the words of those prophecies in Jesus’s mouth and he lets people know he’s come to fulfill them. As Jesus ministers, he gathers a group of disciples around him who will carry on his ministry. He’s given them hints about his coming death and the persecution of his followers, but they never really quite get to full understanding of that until after he rises from the dead.

Before we get to Jesus’s words in today’s passage in Matthew 24, Jesus paints a grim picture of the end times: wars and rumors of war, famine, earthquake, persecution, “the abomination that causes desolation,” and other “dreadful” conditions that cause people to fear and lose hope. But in vs. 36 and following, Jesus begins to make it plain that whatever will happen, whether in the short-term or long-term, has implications further down the road for the consummation of history.

The purpose of Jesus’s first coming and his ministry was to “train the trainers” on how to live in the New Covenant he will establish upon his death, and what life will be like depending on the Spirit of God that’s to be given to all who believe, not just to the prophets or priests. And of course, his shed blood on the cross is what establishes that covenant. Jesus draws on Ezekiel’s prophecy here by calling them to be watchful. They may not know when he’s returning, but they should be able to recognize the signs. So for us, we know Jesus is coming again, but there’s still work to be done, sharing the Gospel with a lost world that desperately needs the eternal hope that God has purchased for us with the death and resurrection of his son. Just as the patriarchs and prophets of old looked forward to the first coming of the Messiah, so we who are alive today look forward to his second coming. God’s people have never lived without the hope of a coming Messiah! The darkness seems to grow more powerful every day, but we have the power as children of light to dispel the darkness and proclaim that hope by being a shining city on a hill.

When day is night,

Darkness is honored as light

And wrong is deemed as right.

When no one is shocked

That God is mocked

And our foundations are rocked.

When war is peace

And the greedy feast

On the lies of men

Who ignore the Ten

Commandments meant to bring us life

So our lot is only pain and strife.

When the tools of power

Are the delicate flowers

Who are pawns in a game

That has no shame.

“When wasteful war shall statues overturn,

And broils root out the work of masonry,

Nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn

The living record of your memory.”[2]

Then Maranatha! Come Lord Jesus and establish your eternal kingdom and us in our eternal home. Hallelujah and Amen!


[1] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[2] Shakespeare, William. 1914. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Edited by W. J. Craig. London; Edinburgh; Glasgow; New York; Toronto; Melbourne; Bombay: Humphrey Milford; Oxford University Press.

March 30, 2011

Opening the Womb

I spent six days last week working through Luke 1–2. One might think that the third Gospel might not offer anything new after working through the first two Gospels, but this is Luke: evangelist, scholar, and physician. Luke is certainly more detailed than any of the other Gospel writers, so he offers a lot more detail to digest.

One of the interesting things I discovered is that Luke’s description of the “womb” is quite different for Elizabeth and Mary. Four times in Luke 1, Luke uses the Greek word κοιλία
(koilia) to describe the womb: three times it refers to John in Elizabeth’s womb, and once to Jesus in Mary’s womb. This is the more common word for “womb” (10 of its 20 uses in the NT refer to the womb or birth) in both the OT and NT, but it is also a more generic word for the “belly.” About one third of its uses in the Septuagint (LXX, Greek OT) are tied to the Hebrew word בֶּטֶן (bě∙ṭěn, ‘womb,’ ‘belly’). But when it comes to the birth of Jesus, Luke bests Matthew in his use of the OT and draws on the Passover story for a uniquely different word.

Luke, in 2:23, cites Exodus 13:2: Πᾶν ἄρσεν διανοῖγον μήτραν ἅγιον τῷ κυρίῳ κληθήσεται, (pan arsen dianoigon mētran hagion tō kuriō klēthēsetai, ‘every male who opens the birth canal will be called holy to the Lord’). It was the phrase διανοῖγον μήτραν that caught my attention. There is nothing special about the word διανοῖγω that would suggest “firstborn” necessarily, but of the few times the word is used in the NT, the “opening” is always dramatic. The prefix on the word (δια-) implies an opening “through” something. The word μήτρα
is more specific than the womb. The fact that it is apparently related to the Greek word for “mother” makes the word unique to women, first of all. Second, the fact that Luke, the physician, uses a more anatomically correct term from the Greek version of the OT, indicates that there is indeed something special about this birth. One third of the occurrences of μήτρα in the OT are in a phrase about the firstborn “opening the womb.” The term is so tied to the female sexual organ that Louw and Nida, in their Greek-English Lexicon Based on Semantic Domains, warn that a literal translation of the phrase in another language might imply the first act of coitus with a woman rather than the first male to be born from her womb.

The only other use of the word in the NT is found in Romans 4:19 with respect to Sarah’s “dead” womb. The word is also used in that context in several places in the OT as well, referring either to infertility or a stillborn child. One of the most notable occurrences is in 1 Samuel 1:5–6, the story of the birth of Samuel. Hannah has been unable to have children, and in the course of time, after much fervent prayer and the blessing of Eli, Hannah conceives and has a son, whom she dedicates to the service of the Lord. That son was Samuel, the last judge before Israel demanded a king. He was the first son of Hannah, but not of Hannah’s husband, Elkanah, who had children by another wife, Penninah.

Hannah’s prayer in 1 Samuel 2 has many parallels to Mary’s Magnificat (Luke 1:46–55) and Zechariah’s song (Luke 1:68–79), and the connection here with Luke’s birth stories brings attention to the whole history of the “firstborn” in Israel. If you’ve ever read through the OT, you may have noticed that the firstborn, even though Exodus says he is holy to God, never seems to get the full blessing that would have been standard in that culture, at least not for the major players in the biblical story. Cain, the first firstborn, started things off on the wrong foot by killing his (obviously) younger brother Abel, and the story of the firstborn (or at least, the first son of a father) became almost a curse for the history of God’s people in the OT. Abraham took matters into his own hands with Hagar and his firstborn, Ishmael, proved to be a thorn in the flesh for the offspring of Sarah’s firstborn, Isaac. Later, Isaac and Rebekah had twins, Esau and Jacob, but Jacob (later Israel) deceived his father to steal the birthright of the firstborn from Esau. Jacob’s first son was not the star of the show, but Rachel’s first son by Jacob, Joseph, became the savior of Israel’s family. Even Judah, from whom Jesus is descended, was not the firstborn, but the fourth son of Leah, Jacob’s least-favorite wife. King David, again in the lineage of Jesus, was the youngest of all his brothers.

How does all this tie into the birth stories of Jesus and John the Baptizer? With the births of John and Jesus, the history of the firstborn in Israel is redeemed. In those stories, we have not one, but two sons miraculously conceived. Elizabeth’s story parallels Sarah’s: barren into her old age. Mary’s story is completely new: a son conceived by the Holy Spirit; no human intervention other than Mary carrying the child to birth. John is empowered by the Holy Spirit to testify about his cousin Jesus, and of course, Jesus is God’s (not to mention Mary’s) firstborn, spotless lamb, Savior of the world. Finally, stories about firstborn sons who got it right! As a firstborn myself, I’m a little sensitive to that, but by God’s grace, I will go forward in faith, and I pray that I will lead my firstborn son (and my younger daughters) along the path of godliness and faithfulness.

Peace!

Website Powered by WordPress.com.