Pip:Sunday Morning Greek Blog, where the word “therefore” is never just a transition — it’s a theological event horizon.
Mara: Scott Stocking brings us two sermons this episode, both circling the same gravitational center: how Christ’s faithfulness, not just our own, is what justification actually rests on. We move from Romans 5 to the temptation in the desert and back again.
Pip: Let’s start with what Paul is actually arguing in Romans 5 and why the word “faith” might be doing double duty.
Mara: The post works through Romans 5:1–12 as part of a longer Romans study, and the central question it raises is whether “faith” in Paul’s letters refers only to our belief — or also to Christ’s own faithfulness to his mission.
Pip: And the answer, apparently, is both, which changes the weight of the whole argument considerably. The post frames it this way, reading from Romans 1:17: “For in the gospel the Righteousness of God is revealed — from faithfulness into faithfulness, just as it is written: ‘The righteous will live by faithfulness.'”
Mara: What this means in practice is that the “Righteousness of God” Paul invokes isn’t an abstract moral standard — it refers to Jesus himself. Jesus is the Righteousness of God, and his faithfulness to the cross is what makes our justification possible in the first place.
Pip: So when Paul writes “justified through faith” in 5:1 and then pivots to “justified by his blood” in 5:9, he isn’t contradicting himself — he’s showing the two sides of one coin. Christ’s faithfulness is the foundation; our trust is the response.
Mara: The post also tracks a structural shift in Romans that’s easy to miss as a casual reader. In chapters 1 through 4, Paul uses words for faith or faithfulness 27 times and words for life only twice. In chapters 5 through 8, those numbers nearly reverse — 25 occurrences of life and live, and only 2 for faith.
Pip: That’s a deliberate rhetorical gear change, not an accident.
Mara: Exactly — and it lands hardest in verse 8, which the post calls “somewhat profound”: “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” No prior cleanup required.
Pip: The historical context sharpens that. Paul is writing to a Roman congregation where Jewish believers had been expelled and were only now returning to find Gentile house churches still thriving — so the unity argument isn’t abstract theology, it’s pastoral triage.
Mara: And perseverance under that pressure is precisely what builds the character and hope Paul describes in verses 3 through 5. That thread connects directly to what Jesus himself modeled when his own faithfulness was put to the test.
Mara: The second sermon takes up Matthew 4:1–11 alongside Romans 5:12–19, and the framing question is pointed: where Adam failed under temptation, what did Jesus actually do differently, and what does that mean for everyone who comes after?
Pip: The post opens with a comparison most sermons wouldn’t lead with — that Satanism is an oxymoron — but it earns the setup, because the whole argument depends on understanding what Satan is actually after.
Mara: The key move comes in Romans 5:19, quoted directly: “For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.”
Pip: So the upshot is that Jesus’s obedience isn’t just a moral example — it’s the structural reversal of Adam’s failure. One act of faithful obedience undoes what one act of disobedience broke.
Mara: The post draws a careful parallel: Satan used the same three categories against Jesus in the desert — appetite, spectacle, and power — that he used against Eve in the garden. Jesus refused each one by knowing exactly what God had actually promised, not the distorted version Satan offered.
Pip: And the post makes the point that what made the crucifixion uniquely effective wasn’t only perfect legal obedience to the Law — it was love. Bulls and goats couldn’t love anyone. Jesus could and did.
Mara: Which is why the post lands where it does: believers are “in Christ” in a concrete sense, baptized into his death, freed from the law’s demands, and called to walk in the righteousness he earned and extends to them.
Pip: Two sermons, one through-line — Christ’s faithfulness is prior to ours, and that sequence matters for everything that follows.
Mara: Romans keeps pulling the thread. There’s still the second half of Romans 6 ahead, so this conversation isn’t finished.
Part 1 of the Romans podcast series may be found here.
Pip: Welcome to Sunday Morning Greek Blog, where the coffee is hot and the participles are passive — and sometimes that’s the whole point.
Mara: Scott Stocking is our guide this episode, working through Romans with a close eye on the Greek text — what words like pistis and dikaiosyne actually mean, and why the translation choices matter for how we understand salvation.
Pip: Let’s start with the Romans Road and what happens when you read it in the original language.
Pip: The post on Romans 3:23–24 opens a question most readers skip right past: when Paul says we are justified by faith, whose faith is he actually talking about — ours, or Christ’s?
Mara: The post frames it this way: “For all who are being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came through Messiah Jesus sinned and are lacking the glory of God.” That rearrangement of word order is deliberate — the participle dikaioumenoi, meaning “who are being justified,” attaches directly to “all,” making justification an ongoing process, not a completed event.
Pip: So the grammar itself is doing theological work. Being justified is present tense, active right now, not a box you checked at conversion.
Mara: Exactly. And that present-tense framing connects to a comparison with Ephesians 2:8, where the parallel construction swaps “through the redemption in Christ Jesus” for “through faithfulness, and this not from yourselves.” The argument is that the faithfulness in view is Christ’s — his obedience to the cross — not a quantity of belief we have to produce on our own.
Pip: Which dissolves a question that has quietly tormented a lot of Christians: do I have enough faith to be saved? If the faithfulness is Christ’s, the answer is structurally irrelevant to us.
Mara: The post makes that point directly. If salvation rests on our faith, it becomes relative — how much is enough? But if it rests on Christ’s faithfulness, the statement becomes absolute. Our own trust in Jesus is, as the post puts it, “not so much for the purpose of being saved but the result of being saved.”
Pip: That’s a quiet but significant inversion of how the passage usually gets preached.
Mara:The companion piece on pistis across Romans 1–5 develops this at length. It argues that the phrase pisteos Iesou Christou — “the faithfulness of Jesus Christ” — in Romans 3:22 is a subjective genitive: Christ is the one being faithful, not merely the object of our faith. The post traces that reading through the whole arc of Romans 1–5, from God’s wrath under the Law in chapters 1 through 3, to Abraham’s faithfulness in chapter 4, to the application in chapter 5.
Mara: The inclusio that brackets the entire letter is telling: the phrase eis hypakoēn pisteōs — “into obedience of faithfulness” — appears in both 1:5 and 16:26, the first and last occurrences of pistis in Romans. That structural frame suggests Paul’s whole argument is about faithful obedience, not faith as a discrete interior event.
Pip: So Romans is less a manual for how to believe and more a demonstration that Christ already did the believing on our behalf — and we walk in the wake of that.
Mara: With the caveat that our own faithfulness still matters — the post is careful to say this doesn’t imply universalism or unconditional security, but rather a call to trust more deeply because God has already demonstrated his reliability. Works, confession, and obedience all follow from that trust.
Pip: From the mechanics of justification to the question of who the righteous one actually is — that thread runs all the way back to Romans 1:17, which is where the deeper argument begins.
Mara: The thread connecting both posts is really one question: what kind of faithfulness is Romans built on, and does the Greek text change the answer?
Pip: Turns out the grammar has opinions. Next time, we’ll see where else those opinions show up.
Pip: Sunday Morning Greek Blog is back, and if you thought Paul’s letter to the Romans was just a greatest-hits playlist of salvation verses, Scott Stocking is here to walk you through the whole road — construction specs included.
Mara: Scott Stocking covers two connected territories this episode: what righteousness actually means in Romans, and how the phrase “obedience of faithfulness” functions as the letter’s spine from opening greeting to closing benediction.
Pip: Let’s start with righteousness — and what it costs to define it carefully.
Mara: The central question in this segment is what Paul means by “the righteousness of God” in Romans 1:17 — and whether it’s something God hands over to believers, or something embodied in a person.
Pip: The answer lands hard. The post sets up Romans 1:17 carefully, then offers this reading: “The righteousness of God then isn’t an object to be given. It is embodied in the person and work of Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ is the righteousness of God.”
Mara: The upshot is that righteousness isn’t a transaction — it’s a participation. Because Jesus fulfilled every requirement of the law, he alone is called righteous, and believers share in that only by being “in Christ.”
Pip: Which reframes the familiar Romans Road considerably. The post uses a road-construction metaphor that actually earns its keep: righteousness is the substructure — the rebar, the compacted earth, the dowel bars — and Jesus’s faithfulness is the surface we walk on.
Mara: Romans 1:17 gets parsed as “from faithfulness into faithfulness” — Jesus’s perfect obedience to the law moving into his faithfulness unto death on the cross. The post ties that directly to Philippians 2:8: “he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death — even death on a cross.”
Pip: So “obedience of faithfulness” in Romans 1:5 isn’t just a theological motto. It points, specifically, to the crucifixion.
Mara: Romans 2 extends this. Paul warns both Jews and Gentiles against hypocrisy — knowing the law isn’t the same as following it. The post notes that circumcision and baptism function as parallel initiation rites in Paul’s argument, and reads Romans 2:25–29 as groundwork for the baptism discussion coming in chapter 6.
Pip: The small-group kickoff context matters here — this is a congregation being asked to read Romans one chapter at a time, and the post is honest that chapters 1 and 2 alone carry enough freight to slow anyone down.
Mara: That honesty is part of the argument. The post closes the Romans 1 and 2 discussion with a summary worth quoting directly: if we remain faithful to living in the righteousness of Christ, then as Romans 2:13 says, “we’ll be declared righteous when we stand before our maker.”
Pip: Which brings us to the phrase that holds all of this together — and how it functions across the whole letter.
Mara: The question the second post takes up is whether “obedience of faithfulness” is a throwaway greeting formula or the actual organizing theme of Romans — and the answer is the latter.
Pip: The post on “Obedience of Faithfulness: A Walk On the Romans Road” opens with personal testimony but arrives at a precise textual claim. Paul, it argues, “told us what he was going to say, he said it, and he told us he said it” — the phrase appears in Romans 1:5 and again, word for word, in the closing benediction of Romans 16.
Mara: That’s not a coincidence. The Greek is only two words, and the post explains that the structure implies the terms define each other: “obedience is faithfulness, and faithfulness is obedience.” Faith, in this reading, is never purely intellectual — it always carries action with it.
Pip: The post traces this through baptism in Romans 6, reading immersion as the believer’s own enactment of the pattern — buried with Christ, raised to new life. That’s the “obedience of faithfulness” made physical.
Mara: And Romans 12:1–2 closes the arc: “Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God” and “be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” The post is careful to note these are promises for life now, not only for life after death.
Pip: Two posts, one through-line — the road Paul built was always meant to be walked.
Mara: Righteousness as foundation, faithfulness as the road you actually travel — that’s the frame Romans keeps returning to.
Pip: Next time, we’ll see where else on the blog that road leads.
I preached this message July 26, 2026, at Mount View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, Nebraska. It follows up on my previous message two weeks’ prior on the first third of Romans 8 (Life in the Spirit (Romans 8:1–11) | Sunday Morning Greek Blog). I also video recorded the message for my Rumble and Instagram accounts. I will post those links when they are available.
Good morning! The Lord be with you!
A couple weeks ago we looked at the first part of Romans 8 and talked about the life that we have in the Holy Spirit. Today, we’re going to close out this second major section of Romans, chapters 5 through 8, by walking through Paul’s “deeper dive” into the role of the Holy Spirit in our lives in the last third of Romans 8.
I’m scratching my head a bit at why the editors of the Lectionary chose to break the text between last week’s Romans 8 passage and this week’s. The most obvious clue we have that this break may not have come at a natural stopping point is the fact that our passage begins with “Likewise” in the version we read, or “In the same way” in the NIV.
Seeing this word or phrase in the biblical text should give us cause to pause for a moment and ask, as we do with “therefore,” what is it there for? Likewise compared to what? In the same way as…? Well, the obvious place to look is the paragraph just before our text, beginning in verse 22, because there are some obvious verbal parallels we can’t ignore.
22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. 23 Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. 24 For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? 25 But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.[1]
Did you hear the connection to today’s passage in the first couple verses? It’s the idea that not only is the earth itself groaning right along with us. I want to come back to that in a minute, but it’s important to drill down a bit into the implications of the Greek word translated “likewise” (ὡσαύτως hōsautōs).
In our English translations, we probably don’t even give much of a second thought to such a word. For some of us, it probably carries about the same weight as the word “whatever.” But this word appears to have a specialized use in the New Testament, one that implies a deeper or more profound connection to the situations or persons being compared. That’s important because as the body of Christ, we live in fellowship not only with Christ but with one another as well. This simple little word is shorthand for letting Paul’s readers (at least in the original language) know that something special is going on here.
The word is typically found in lists or narratives of repeated action. For example, it’s used in the parable Jesus tells about Levirate marriage, where the next youngest brother is responsible for marrying his older brother’s widow to continue the family line. It’s used a couple times in 1 Timothy 2 and 3—once to say that men and women should worship God similarly but with instructions specific to each gender. Then in chapter 3 he uses it in reference to the three leadership groups mentioned: elders have their qualifications; just like the elders, deacons have their own qualifications specific to their ministry; and just like the deacons and elders, “the women” in leadership have their own qualifications specific to their ministry.
Recognizing that this connection exists between the entities compared helps give us a deeper appreciation of what it means when Paul says, “Likewise…the Spirit intercedes for us through wordless groans.” Creation itself has been groaning for redemption ever since Adam and Eve at the forbidden fruit. From Genesis 3, you may remember God told Adam:
When Paul first mentions groaning in vs. 22, he uses a special form of the word translated “groan” that adds a prefix meaning “together with.” We see that prefix in modern English in words like sympathy and symphony. It supplements the implications of the word “likewise.” It wasn’t just the ground itself, but the greenhouse-like paradise God had created for his creation to dwell in was disrupted very shortly after that by a flood that literally reshaped the world and created the weather patterns we see today: tornado season, monsoon season, hurricane season, the four seasons, earthquakes, etc. I believe those are all manifestations of the curse God spoke upon the land in Genesis 3. Those things will not exist when God establishes the new heaven and new earth.
Paul says in verse 23 that you and I are groaning right along with creation as we await our own redemption. We’re all keenly aware of that kind of “groaning.” When we’ve been hurt deeply by someone who loved us, or even when we, intentionally or not, hurt or severely disappoint those closest to us. We feel when we get fired or “downsized” from a good job that has been a source of security for us. We feel it when a child is ill and all we can do is hold them closely to help them get through the sickness. We especially feel it with the loss of a loved one, of course. We mourn with those who mourn, and somehow that brings some small comfort or a sense of security even when we don’t have the words to express our sorrow.
We see this groaning in our world in other ways as well. Poverty, political aggression, and religious oppression, to name a few are evils that haunt us. War, mental illness, and substance use disorders often arise from undesirable or unhealthy ways to address those evils and compel us to lift our cries for redemption, even when we cannot find our words to express it.
So, when we come to our passage today and see that, “in the same way” we groan for the things troubling our hearts, the Holy “Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” This isn’t some supernatural spiritual language, then. If you’re in Christ, the Spirit knows your heart and mind intimately, so he feels the pain and the sorrow that causes us to groan. The mystery of the Trinity is that the Spirit is the presence of Jesus in your life, and therefore the presence of Jesus’s deep love for you. Additionally, God the Father knows precisely what the Spirit is conveying to him on your behalf, so God knows your pain as well and begins to work through his Spirit and his Word (Jesus) to comfort us and provide for our spiritual and emotional needs in our time of distress (vs. 27).
When we understand the groaning of the Holy Spirit and what it is accomplishing for us, we can begin “to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge”[3] as Paul says in Ephesians 3. If his love surpasses knowledge, then it kind of sounds like there are no words to describe it. That’s pretty deep, extremely profound. It’s heavy, but in a good way, because, as Paul continues in Ephesians 3, we’re “filled to the measure of all the fulness of God.” This is how great his love is for us, and this is the taste of the eternal life that awaits us as believers.
What we’ve just covered here is Paul’s response to what he calls “our present sufferings” in Romans 8:18 and begins the process of revealing God’s glory in our lives. That is the context for vs. 28, then, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”[4] Now if you’re following along in a printed Bible with this passage, you may notice a footnote here that suggests a couple alternate translations, but the version we read from (New Revised Standard Version) has the most straightforward translation. The issue has to do with grammar, and you didn’t come here this morning for a grammar lesson. But if you want an explanation, ask me after the service.[5]
The “all things” refers to what Paul was talking about in chapter 8 that we already mentioned: the present sufferings, the groaning for redemption, and so on. Whatever has happened to us and whatever is currently happening to us is all part of God’s design for our lives if we love him and walk with him. The phrase “Those whom he foreknew” most likely does not refer to individuals but rather to a group. In Romans 11, the same word refers to the Jews. In 1 Peter 1:20, it refers to Jesus being chosen before the creation of the world to be savior, so by extension, the implication in Romans 8 here is that it refers to Jews specifically and everyone else who would follow Christ in history. He describes those Christ-followers as called, justified, and glorified.
This brings us to the grand conclusion of chapter 8 specifically, and chapters 5 through 8 as significant subset of Paul’s larger treatise. Paul hearkens back to the opening verse of chapter (“There is no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus”) by asking in verse 34, “Who then is the one who condemns? No one.”[6] We have assurance that with God on our side, no one and nothing can stand against us. Nothing can bring us down. Nothing can or should raise questions about our standing or relationship with God.
All of that is possible because of Jesus’s sacrifice and what that accomplished as Paul explains especially in chapter 6. If we are in Christ, God has justified us. If we are in Christ, God has guaranteed us eternal life through the resurrection of Jesus. Baptism is the outward expression of that security. And along with the Holy Spirit, who dwells in us, Jesus is at the right hand of God interceding for us as well. We can’t lose!
Paul puts it this way in 2 Corinthians 4:16–18:
16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.[7]
None of the troubles that Paul mentioned earlier in chapter 8 can separate us from God’s love. The worries of chapter 7 and “doing what I don’t want to do” are banished when we realize that we are no longer slaves of sin but “slaves” of Christ. Our participation in the death and resurrection of Christ in baptism assures us of the eternal life we have in Christ.
This is why Paul says in 8:37 that we are more than conquerors! Amen? We have assurance and confidence that we are fully secure in the body of Christ and in God’s kingdom for eternity when we walk with and in him. We have victory in Jesus! Let us go forth today and share the good news of that victory with those who need to know the assurance of his hope. Amen!
[5] The underlying text is vague, but the theological significance among the options is minimal in my opinion. The issue is with the word πάντα panta (“all things”), which, as a neuter form, can either be the subject of the sentence (nominative case) or the direct object of the sentence (accusative case). The NRSV (here), KJV, and ESV have the most straightforward translation: “All things work together….” The NIV confuses the issue by putting panta in the dative case (“in all things”). The more recent Common English Bible (CEB) has “God works all things together…,” which requires the translator to infer God is the subject of the verb. However, “God” as a nominative case noun does not occur in the eclectic text.
Metzger’s Textual Commentary (p. 458) on the variant reading where it does occur in some copies of the text is helpful, but not necessarily conclusive ([B] rating):
“Although the reading συνεργεῖ ὁ θεός (𝔓46 A B 81 copsa (eth) Origengr2/5) is both ancient and noteworthy, a majority of the Committee deemed it too narrowly supported to be admitted into the text, particularly in view of the diversified support for the shorter reading (א C D G K P Ψ 33 614 1739 ByzLect itd,, vg syrp, copbo arm Clement Origengr3/5, Eusebius Lucifer Cyril-Jerusalem Chrysostom Augustine al). Since συνεργεῖ may be taken to imply a personal subject, ὁ θεός seems to have been a natural explanatory addition made by an Alexandrian editor.”
[6] Romans 8:34. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan. Contextually, since the chapter begins with, “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus,” the answers to the questions in this section (vv. 33–35) about who is bringing charges, who is condemning, and who is separating us from Christ’s love are all “No one” by implication. The “No one” in vs. 34 (NIV) and the “No” at the beginning of vs. 37 (NIV) are glosses to indicate this, that is, they are not translated from Greek words in the text, and consequently some translations do not include those glosses.
I preached this message on the third Sunday of Easter, April 19, 2026, at Mount View Presbyterian Church.
Psalms 111 through 119 make up a unique subsection of what your English Bibles call “Book V” of the psalms. They are called the “Egyptian Hallel” because each chapter begins or ends with the shout “Hallelujah.” We know that means “Praise God!” Psalms 111–112 are introductions to the Hallel, each being an acrostic psalm, that is, each “half-verse” of the psalm begins with successive letters of the Hebrew alphabet. The last chapter of this Hallel, 119, is of course an acrostic as well, and most English Bibles will indicate that. Chapter 119 has 22 sets of 8 verses that are in alphabetical order according to the first letters of each of the verses in the respective sections. Psalm 119, the longest chapter in the Bible, is also famous for its exaltation of God’s words and decrees, with all but three verses mentioning God’s word or decrees using a variety of terms.
The central psalms in the Hallel are 113–118. These are the psalms that were sung before and after the Passover seder meal, with Psalms 113–114 sung prior to the meal, and psalms 115–118 sung after the meal. This context “sets the table” (allusion intended) for taking a deeper dive into Psalm 116 this morning. Psalm 116 is reads like two psalms in one, because the second half of the psalm parallels the first half. As such, I want us to compare the two halves and see what gems we can discover. It’s also possible that the Emmaus disciples sang this psalm after their “surprise” dinner with Jesus since they were not too far out from Passover.
First of all, you may have noticed from our reading that there is a pervasive theme across the whole psalm of “calling on the name of the Lord.” In fact, it seems intentional that those who decided to pick and choose a few verses from Psalm 116 for the Lectionary reading were intentional about focusing on that theme. So let’s run with that.
You’ll notice that in the first half of the psalm, the author is calling on the name of the Lord in the midst of trouble and sorrow in vv. 1–4. The author speaks of crying out for mercy, being entangled in the cords of death, and overcome by grief, anguish, and distress. I think we can all relate to that at certain times in our lives. As we switch back and forth between having the air conditioning and furnace running in our not-so-stable Nebraska spring weather pattern, we ask the Lord that neither system fails us, right?
On a more serious note, we feel the sense of dependence when we lose a loved one or a loved one is facing serious medical issues. Even some of those who don’t attend church regularly will cry out to God for help in those situations. We feel the need for something beyond us to step in and bring hope or healing.
On the flip side of that, in the second half of this psalm, we see the author calling on God in the midst of good times as well. When he speaks of “lifting up the cup of salvation,” he’s referring to the last cup of the seder dinner, the same cup that Christ used when he said it was the new covenant in his blood for the forgivenss of tins. (see Luke 22:20, Matthew 26:28).
The good times, ironically, are also the times we can forget about calling on the Lord. Everything is going great, yet we forget that God is the one who had a hand in making things great for us. We forget to ask (and answer) the question in verse 12: “What shall I return to the Lord for all his goodness to me?” Since the context here is the Passover seder, the author is saying he will participate with joy in the celebration of escaping the slavery of Egypt. In other words, he sees the big picture of God’s plan from the earliest days of their nation. He also takes the opportunity to renew his pledge to live righteously in the world.
Allow me for a moment to switch to a related sidebar here: As Christians, we keep the Passover, so to speak, by taking communion together. Jesus essentially redefined the Passover seder to focus on his pending sacrifice on the cross. I know you know this, but it bears repeating: Communion is the time we come into the presence of the Savior and sit at the table he’s invited us to. Not only is it a time of remembrance for us, but also a time of recommitment to follow him. When the Bible says, “God remembered his promise,” that always means God is ready to act on the fulfillment of that promise. When we do communion “in remembrance of him,” we’re pledging ourselves to continue to walk in his ways.
Now let us look at the two halves of this Psalm side-by-side. In verse 1, the author says “I love the Lord,” while in verse 11, that love for the Lord prompts him to say “I trusted in the Lord” when he poured out his heart about his troubles. In verse 1, he also has the confidence to say that the Lord has heard his voice and turned his ear toward him.
The imagery in that last statement is key to God’s love for us: God doesn’t just sit on his throne and process prayer requests all day long. He leans into it. You and I might lean in to a conversation because our hearing is getting bad, but God doesn’t have a problem with hearing. He wants to hear what you have to say, and he never tires or gets weary of listening to us when we come to him in faith and humility. God wants to know our complaint or concern, even if it’s a broad generalization like in verse 12: “Everyone is a liar!” He knows what we mean. He knows what’s on our heart at the moment. Let’s not forget the promise of Romans 8:26 either:
In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.[1]
The promise that follows in Romans here is why we can have confidence and trust in calling on the name of the Lord:
God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.[2]
The cry in vs. 4 after the author pours out his heart is “Lord, save me!” Verses 13–14 parallel this by the author providing his own solution: “I will lift up the cup of salvation.” He knows the seder ritual is more than just a ritual, but a powerful promise of God’s presence, just as I spoke of when I compared this our own communion service.
Hear the words of vv. 5–6, since they weren’t included in our reading this morning:
5 The Lord is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion.
6 The Lord protects the unwary; when I was brought low, he saved me.[3]
The author follows through here on his cry in vs. 4 by affirming that the Lord did indeed save him at his lowest point. The author’s desperation at the beginning of the psalm may have put him in a frame of mind where he thought he was going to die. In verse 15, he has the confidence to say that the death of a faithful servant is “precious” in the Lord’s sight, so it would seem he had come to terms with his own mortality. This could also be a messianic prophecy about Jesus and the martyrdom in the early days of the church. We saw in verse 14 that he committed himself to live faithfully, and he does so again here in verse 16: “Truly I am your servant, Lord,” and compares it to the history of his own mother’s servant heart.
Verse 7 is a turning point in the first half of the psalm. The author feels complete, made whole because of the Lord’s goodness to him. This parallels the question of vs. 12 I spoke of earlier. In verses 8 and 9, he reaffirms that God has rescued him from sorrow and calamity. In verses 17–19, the author basically repeats verses 14–15, just like a singer might do with the chorus when they come to the end of their song. That’s the clue to us, the readers and worshipers, that this was the intended point of the whole psalm, and it sums up the psalm’s main points succinctly:
First, let us never fail to give thanks for the salvation we have through Jesus Christ. Whether we do that with words or worship, we can have the confidence to speak boldly and not hold back on those things that concern us. We can absolutely be certain that the Lord is trustworthy.
Second, call on the Lord. This is an essential part of our salvation experience. Romans 10:9 says:
If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.[4]
Additionally, Paul addresses the church at Corinth in terms of both their calling and whom they call upon:
To the church of God in Corinth, to those sanctified in Christ Jesus and called to be his holy people, together with all those everywhere who call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ—their Lord and ours.[5]
Third, but not necessarily finally, commit or reaffirm your commitment regularly, and do so publicly. That doesn’t mean you need to make an alter call every Sunday morning; “publicly” just means you’re not hiding it. If you have an accountability partner or good friend that can keep you honest, that’s a good place to start. If you want to proclaim it more broadly, do that too. After all, the author says in the closing verse he will fulfill his vows in the temple as well as in the heart of the city of Jerusalem for all to see.
May God bless you this week as you continue to spread the gospel in word and in deed. Amen.
It’s been a busy week with family stuff, so I apologize for the lateness of this week’s Lectionary Help. I’ll offer a few quick helps here since Palm Sunday and Holy Week offer so much material for us to preach on.
In Rigged Trial; Real Redemption (Luke 22:54–62) | Sunday Morning Greek Blog, I cover the injustices of the way the Jews used their own “legal” system to condemn Jesus. Everything about the trial before the Sanhedrin was contrary to their own laws and customs. It’s an early example of what we’ve come to call “lawfare” today.
Matthew indicates that Judas threw his blood money back in the temple and hanged himself after betraying Jesus. The pharisees bought the field where Judas hanged himself with that money (Matthew 27:5–10), which is why in Acts 1:18, Peter can say Judas bought the field. It was by proxy through the Pharisees, because they didn’t want their name associated with the title to the land because it was purchased with blood money.
Most scholars believe the description in Acts about Judas’s body bursting open is not a contradiction to Matthew’s “hanging” account. The Acts account comes from Peter to a small group of believers who were already familiar with the full story. It’s likely that Judas’s body started to bloat after he died on the tree and either the rope or the branch it was hanging from broke and caused the gruesome scene.
I also came across the following note on Matthew 27:28–31 in my files:
“The Greek text here has several words with the /pt/ sound or /p/ followed by an unstressed vowel sound. I have to think this is intentional on Matthew’s part to emphasize the mocking (ἐνέπαιξαν, from ἐμπαίζω) aspect of the scene. This passage is a chiasm as well, centering around the mocking (but true) statement, ‘Hail, king of the Jews!’”
One final note: Golgotha is likely the exact location (give or take a few hundred feet) where Abraham had taken Isaac to sacrifice him. The Hebrew text where Abraham says “God himself will provide the lamb” can be repointed (i.e., have a different vowel arrangement below the consonants; vowels weren’t added to the Hebrew text until about AD 1000) to say “God will provide himself as the lamb.” Consider the significance of that for a hot minute.
Peace to you as you approach Holy Week and the Easter season.
We have a long gospel passage for the fourth Sunday in Lent. In the congregation I preach in, I will typically read the entire gospel passage prior to the message. I have not previously preached on this passage for lent, but three years ago when I preached on John 4 for the third Sunday in Lent, I showed the clip from that scene in The Chosen instead of reading the passage. Here is the YouTube clip of healing of the man born blind from Season 4, Episode 3.
Jesus repeats his “I am the light of the world” statement in 9:5 (originally spoken in 8:12), which seems to close the loop on that description of Jesus and his actions. The miracle of bringing light to the man’s eyes for the first time is definitive proof of that claim. In the broader context of Scripture, this harkens back to Isaiah 9, as I’ve indicated in other passages where light is a significant theme. This also seems to be the final proof that John offers for his opening statements in chapter 1 about Jesus being “light,” especially the “light” of Genesis 1:3, the firstborn of all creation. Jesus would be the physical, visible representation of God’s divine nature in his incarnation.
This passage is unusual in that a large section of it (vv. 13–34) happens apart from the presence of Jesus and his disciples. This only happens a couple times in John (the other occurrence is in 11:45–57, where the Jews are plotting to kill Jesus after he raised Lazarus from the dead). It would seem reasonable that the healed man would have relayed the story to Jesus or his disciples when Jesus sees him again in 9:35. The greater the miracle, the more intense the religious leaders’ desire to take Jesus out.
This section of the passage gives us some sense of how the Pharisees seemed to operate to protect their legalistic view of the Law. It shows how they participated in the darkness, having important discussions about the nature of sin and the impact of healing on the Sabbath behind closed doors and coercing (unsuccessfully) the healed man to recant his claim of Jesus healing, especially on the Sabbath. Worse yet, they were trying to get him to say something damning about Jesus, but he was too excited and too grateful to turn his back on the savior. You can almost feel the power of the Pharisees draining from their fingertips before their very (blind) eyes.
The healed man’s courage to speak the truth about who Jesus is and what he’s done for him is a testimony for all believers in this day and age where Christian persecution seems to be increasing in the heartland of America and elsewhere. But people are responding with a desire for faithfulness in Christ in great numbers in spite of (or because of?) it.
I’ll close out here with a couple links to my articles on “I Am the Light of the World” if you want to dig deeper into that topic. Peace to you in the next week. May God richly bless your ministry as you proclaim his word to those within your influence.
Lectionary Help for Third Sunday in Lent, March 8, 2026, Year A.
Taking a look at the literary context and historical setting of the account of Jesus speaking to the woman at the well in Samaria can help answer a few questions people may have about this passage. For example, why was Jesus so insistent that he “had” to go through Samaria? Consider the following points.
John begins his gospel by saying Jesus is the light of the world and has been around “from the beginning.”
Jesus shows his earthly authority over the Temple at Jerusalem by overturning the tables of the money changers, yet that doesn’t seem to be enough for him to insist that Jerusalem is the proper (or only) place of worship.
The well where he meets the woman is Jacob’s well. Jacob, of course, is one of Jesus’s earthly ancestors, so Jesus is in the land of his ancestors when he first reveals (at least in John’s gospel) he is the Messiah. That fact shouldn’t be overlooked.
“He establishes Jesus is fully divine and that God is his Father. Since he’s God’s “only begotten” on Earth, Jesus then is the primary authority in the Temple, which the Jews believed was home of God’s presence. Finally, Jesus, having been established as the authority for the Jewish religion, essentially abolishes the long-standing prejudice against Samaria by going to the place where his ancestor Judah’s father, Jacob (renamed Israel) first established himself in the Promised Land after returning from Laban’s home. I think this aspect of the story lends to its credibility and to the principle of worship he puts forth.”
The epistles passage is Romans 5:1–11. This is where Paul makes the point that Christ died for us “while we were still sinners.” This ties in nicely with the woman at the well story, of course, as Jesus is offering the woman living water in spite of her current social and relationship status.
A few Old Testament passages can provide some background for the “living water” Jesus speaks of. Isaiah 49 (esp. vv. 6 & 10) speaks of springs of fresh water, while Jeremiah 2:13 and 17:13 both describe the Lord as the Jews’ “spring of living water.” Of course, we can’t forget Ezekiel’s prophecy in 14:8–9:
“On that day living water will flow out from Jerusalem, half of it east to the Dead Sea and half of it west to the Mediterranean Sea, in summer and in winter. 9 The Lord will be king over the whole earth. On that day there will be one Lord, and his name the only name.”
I pray this helps you prepare this week. I’m updating my previous message, which includes both NT passages, to reflect some of the things I’ve learned or rediscovered in my recent work in Romans.
I preached this message on February 22, 2026, the First Sunday in Lent, Year A.
When you think about it, Satanism, the worship of Satan, is an oxymoron. I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. “That’s a weird way to start a sermon, preacher!” Yep, guilty as charged. But seriously, why would anyone want to put their “faith” in Satan when all the evidence points his core nature? He’s pure evil. He’s deceptive. He hates those who worship God. I would dare say he’s more interested in getting you to not worship and serve God than he is having people worship him. But he can ignore those people, because they’re already solidly in his camp.
John says this about the devil when he confronts the Pharisees in the Temple in John 8:
44 You belong to your father, the devil, and you want to carry out your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies. 45 Yet because I tell the truth, you do not believe me! 46 Can any of you prove me guilty of sin? If I am telling the truth, why don’t you believe me? [1]*
Adam and Eve had a first-hand encounter with Satan in the very beginning. He lied about what eating the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil could do for them. Yes, after eating the apple, they did experience the shame of their nakedness, so at least that much of what Satan said was true, but it was a half-truth at best. The lie that Satan told Eve was “You will be like God.” That was a lie in so many ways, and here’s why:
God is not just omniscient, knowing all that can be known, but he is omnipotent and omnipresent as well. Adam and Eve, relatively speaking, only got a fraction of the knowledge that God had about such things and NONE of the power or presence that God had. Their shame at disobeying caused them to fear the presence of God when God had designed Eden and the world for them to live in his presence. They lost power, because at that point, death became a necessity for survival. An animal would have to die to clothe them. Blood sacrifices became necessary for temporary atonement. And God’s son would have to die to redeem them forever from the curse.
Satan won that first round with God’s precious new creation, but out of that came the first prophecy of Satan’s defeat at the hands and feet of God’s son. It’s no wonder, then, that he thought he could try and pull that off when God’s one and only son came on the scene. If he could get Jesus to stumble, the world would be his, or so he thought.
In the garden, Eve had become convinced somehow that the forbidden fruit “was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom.” It shouldn’t surprise us that Satan used those same three categories to tempt Jesus in the desert as in our Gospel passage this morning. “I know you’re hungry for some food, Jesus. Go ahead and turn these stones into bread.” But Jesus knew, unlike Adam and Eve, that there was more to God than producing a little supernatural “manna” to satisfy what must have been an intense human experience of hunger. “Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”
Satan tried to trick him by twisting a promise of God into a perversion of wisdom. “Come on Jesus. You know God will catch you if you jump off the top of the Temple here! Imagine the scene when the crowd watches the angels swoop you up at the last second! You’ll be a superhero!” But Jesus knows it is foolish to put God to the test like that, and rebuked Satan with that fact in no uncertain terms.
Satan had one more chance. He took Jesus to a high mountain where he had a “pleasing sight” awaiting him—”all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor.” But once again, Jesus knew the price was too high to go along with Satan’s schemes, and he knew none of them would bring about what God had promised him when he fulfilled his mission. “You know the commandment, Satan. I will have no other gods before me. He was there to “worship the Lord God and serve him only.” The liar failed at trying to fool the one in whom there was no lie and only truth.
And that was the beginning of the end for Satan. Jesus won that battle, but Satan didn’t give up that easily. He had to switch his focus to others, and most of you know who that would be: someone from his inner circle. The signs would be there early on that something wasn’t quite right with Judas. Even Peter gets some of the blame, but that, it seems, may have been more to his impetuous nature at times, and Jesus had other plans for him anyway.
The power of death was defeated at the cross. I’m sure that was something that Satan actually felt. Jesus had even told Peter that the gates of hell could not withstand the coming of God’s kingdom, and I think for a while anyway, as the church began to coalesce after Pentecost, God and Jesus kept Satan at bay to give the fledgling believers a head start at getting the gospel out.
I want to turn now to Romans 5:12–19, the other New Testament passage in the Lectionary readings today, to look at the results, if you will, of Jesus’s victory over death and how he, as the New Adam, broke the curse brought on by the First Adam, who through passivity allowed his wife to give in to the serpent and joined her in her disobedience. Romans 5 has a powerful message about how you and I can be strengthened in our own faith walk because of what Jesus accomplished on the cross and in his resurrection from the dead.
Hear what Paul has to say:
12 Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned—
13 To be sure, sin was in the world before the law was given, but sin is not charged against anyone’s account where there is no law. 14 Nevertheless, death reigned from the time of Adam to the time of Moses, even over those who did not sin by breaking a command, as did Adam, who is a pattern of the one to come.
15 But the gift is not like the trespass. For if the many died by the trespass of the one man, how much more did God’s grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many! 16 Nor can the gift of God be compared with the result of one man’s sin: The judgment followed one sin and brought condemnation, but the gift followed many trespasses and brought justification. 17 For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ!
18 Consequently, just as one trespass resulted in condemnation for all people, so also one righteous act resulted in justification and life for all people. 19 For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.[2]
Even though Paul says plainly in 1 Timothy 2:14 that it was Eve who was deceived and sinned first (sorry, ladies, I’m just the messenger here), Paul considers the blame for “original sin” to be squarely on Adam’s shoulders. Adam had one command, and he (and Eve) blew it. But because it was a single command and the Law had not come yet, God could not permanently charge Adam with a violation of his law. Instead, they were expelled from the garden because they could not be trusted. That doesn’t mean they weren’t loved, though. God would declare even as he announced their punishment that the seed of the woman would crush the head of the serpent.
Paul demonstrates that Jesus fulfilled the role that Adam never could. Adam’s disobedience or lack of faithfulness brought sin into the world, but Jesus’s one act of faithful obedience, submitting to crucifixion, is the only act that could defeat the power of sin once for all and bring righteousness to all who would follow him. It took one sin by Adam to mess up things for everybody, but one faithfully obedient savior to restore us to God in his righteousness.
Romans says that Jesus Christ is our righteousness. He earned that designation by fulfilling the whole Law of God. But God still needed that once-for-all blood sacrifice that would make the animal and grain sacrifices of the Old Testament completely obsolete. Jesus was the only one who could be that spotless lamb. But it wasn’t just because of his 100% obedience to the law. The crucifixion had one more element that made it absolutely effective and impossible for the devil to challenge or destroy: It was love, pure and simple.
“For God so loved the world.” Only a perfect man with a fully divine nature who showed us beyond a shadow of doubt how he and his Father loved us in person and face to face could make that sacrifice. The bulls and goats and birds that were sacrificed under the Old Covenant could not ever love us the way Jesus did and does, which is why his sacrifice stands not only above the old sacrificial system, but above every other religion as well. Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, was a real person, but he never loved anything about the world that should have mattered to him. He just tried to obtain a state of nothingness, a very selfish goal that no one else, by definition, could help him achieve. There’s no personal connection there and no promise of any help from the supernatural realm. Jesus’s sacrifice was by far the most superior of any that could have happened on this world God created with love, and the only one that can guarantee us eternal life in God’s glorious new kingdom.
As believers, then, know that you are “in Christ” in every sense of the concept. We are baptized “into Christ,” which means we are baptized into his death. So we share in his death so we can be free of the requirements of the law, beneficiaries of grace, and servants of righteousness. As you go forth in the world from here, declare God’s word unashamedly to those who need to hear the hope of his good news. Amen.
[1]The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan. *I didn’t say it in my message, but I sure thought about adding: “The Pharisees must have had Jesus Derangement Syndrome.”
My, how time flies! Next Sunday, February 15, 2026, is “Transfiguration Sunday,” the last Sunday before the Lenten season begins. Thank you for reading my new Lectionary Help series. Last week’s post was the most popular post on my blog for the week, almost twice what it was the week before. If you’re sharing these with your congregation or colleagues, a double dose of thanks for that! Now, let’s look at Matthew 17:1–9.
Word Study
We can’t talk about “transfiguration” without talking about the Greek word Matthew uses to describe the event, and it should be a familiar one to you: μεταμορφόομαι (metamorphoomai), μεταμορφόω (metamorphoō).[1] Those of you who studied Greek may recognize that this verb occurs in deponent form (usually implies no direct object or perhaps middle voice, suggesting the action of the verb is focused on the speaker themselves) and active voice, at least in the lexical entry.
New Testament authors only use the verb four times.[2] In addition to today’s passage, we find it in Mark’s account of the event (9:2). Luke does not use this word in his account (9:28–36) but only mentions that Jesus’s “appearance” changed (“The form [εἶδος eidos] of his face [was] different”).
Paul uses the word in Romans 12:2 (“be transformed by the renewing of your minds”) and 2 Corinthians 3:18 (“And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.”[3]). In both instances, the passive would seem to be appropriate since it refers to changes you and I undergo because of what Christ is doing in the lives of the faithful. Although Paul was not yet a follower at the time of the Transfiguration event, it seems clear in the 2 Corinthians passage that he’s alluding to that.
In all four occurrences, the morphologies I checked[4] all identified the forms as passive voice. However, I would argue that the two occurrences in the gospels should be identified as middle voice, because Jesus has the power within himself to control the event. I don’t know that this is a huge thing theologically, whether God was doing it or Jesus was doing it, but as I’ll discuss below, I think the events leading up to this suggest Jesus initiates this for his inner circle.
The other NT reading for the Lectionary is 2 Peter 1:16–21. Peter references his participation in the Transfiguration event, which he is now free to do since Christ has risen. It’s in the opening chapter of his first epistle, so I wonder how long he was holding on to that little tidbit waiting for the opportunity to publish it! It’s not a boast, though. He’s merely establishing his credibility as an eyewitness to the event, so we can, I think, safely say that the Transfiguration is a genuine event and not resort to some psychological, metaphysical, or naturalistic explanation for the event.
Context
In the synoptic gospels, all three authors have the Transfiguration story closely tied to Jesus’s first and second predictions of his death. Matthew and Luke have it immediately after that prediction, while Mark inserts the pericope about taking up the cross after the prediction. All three follow the Transfiguration pericope with a pericope of Jesus healing a demon-possessed boy followed by Jesus’s second prediction of dying. Luke adds after the second prediction that “Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem,”[5] which establishes the historical setting for the rest of Luke’s gospel. I don’t think it’s too much of a leap of faith to say that Jesus is using the Transfiguration event to assure his disciples that:
Heaven is real and the patriarchs are alive and well in that realm;
Jesus himself will be resurrected when the time comes; and
Jesus has the fulness of divinity in him, i.e., he’s the Son of God.[6]
Those are the highlights I noticed as I begin my own preparation for preparing a message for next Sunday. As always, feel free to comment here in the blog or on my Facebook page for the blog. Also watch for the Reel as I’m going to dive into creating some video content for these Lectionary Help posts as well.
If you want to see past Lectionary Help articles on the blog, just search “Lectionary” from the blog search feature, usually on the right side of your computer screen. Peace to you all!
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