Sunday Morning Greek Blog

December 8, 2024

Advent Peace: John’s Message of Baptism and Repentance (Luke 3:1–12)

Message preached at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, NE, December 8, 2024. I thought the message might be a little “heavy” theologically, but I got some positive responses from people about digging deep into the background of the words and phrases.

Welcome to the second Sunday of Advent. May the peace of Christ be with you. [And also with you.] “Peace” is one of the most prominent themes in Scripture. In fact, it is so prominent, I’m pretty sure most of you can tell me what the Hebrew word is for “peace” is: שָׁלוֹם (šā·lôm). This noun is found 232 times in the Hebrew Old Testament, and the New International Version translates it as “peace” or a form of that word over half the time. Other translations of the word in the OT make sense when you think about them, and those translations typically represent one small aspect of the complete concept of “peace”: two of the most common translations are “safe” and “prosper.”

In the New Testament, we find the word for “peace” (εἰρήνη eirēnē) 90 times and at least once in every book except 1 John. In the Old Testament, we do find at times that peace refers to the absence of war or the ceasing of hostilities. But that is a very small part of the way shalom is used in the Bible. In both the Old and New Testaments, peace often means something more like a sense of personal security and safety, a sense of wholeness, or even a lack of need or other strife that may disrupt your life. The phrase “peace be with you” was used by Jesus three times in his post-resurrection appearances to assuage his disciples’ fear of seeing him alive again in John 20. Paul uses it often in his greetings (as do most Middle Eastern cultures): “Grace and peace to you.”

In our Gospel passage today from Luke 3, we see the events leading up to Jesus being revealed to the world as Messiah, the one to come. Luke happens to use the word “peace” three times in the first two chapters to sort of “set the stage” what would be one of his ministries to those who believe. At the end of chapter 1, Luke records Zechariah’s blessing upon the birth of John, who would later be known as John the Baptist:

76 And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High; for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him, to give his people the knowledge of salvation through the forgiveness of their sins,… to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.[1]

When Jesus was born and the heavenly host appeared to the shepherds in the nearby fields, they heard this familiar pronouncement: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”[2] Eight days later, Simeon speaks these precious words of blessing when he sees Jesus in the Temple: “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you may now dismiss your servant in peace. 30 For my eyes have seen your salvation.”[3]

Before we look at the gospel passage, some of you might know your Bible well enough to know Jesus made a negative statement about peace. Yep, that’s right. I’m not going to gloss over that and pretend it’s not there. But I bring it up because it does have a tie-in to our main passage this morning. In Luke 12:49–51, Jesus says this: “I have come to bring fire on the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! 50 But I have a baptism to undergo, and what constraint I am under until it is completed! 51 Do you think I came to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but division.”[4] What did Jesus mean by this? As you read through the gospels and indeed the rest of the New Testament, you find out that Jesus calls us to live radically different lives from the world around us. He expects us to “troublemakers” of a sort for those who trouble us by imposing legalistic requirements on our faith or compelling us to jump through certain hoops that the Bible knows nothing about to supposedly make us feel “saved” and safe from God’s displeasure or wrath.

John seems have a similar mindset in his gospel, as he doesn’t have Jesus saying anything about peace until after the account of the last Supper in his gospel, that is, until he starts preparing his disciples for his crucifixion. As he’s teaching his disciples about the Holy Spirit, he makes this commitment to them: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”[5] The peace he gives will be the peace the disciples need, because he knows they will face persecution after his resurrection, and they will need every ounce of peace and strength Jesus and the Holy Spirit will provide for them.

Now that we’ve got the preliminaries out of the way, let’s look at our gospel passage, Luke 3. The historical data here helps scholars narrow down the time frame of the beginning of John the Baptist’s ministry to somewhere between September of AD 27 and October of AD 28. This would mean Jesus and John were in their early 30s. We haven’t seen anything of the adult Jesus yet in Luke’s gospel, nor in the other two gospels that relate the parallel accounts of this story. Luke tells us that John’s ministry to “prepare the way for the Lord” is a fulfillment of the prophecy from Isaiah 40:3–5.

This quote from Isaiah is where we get the connection to shalom peace described above. Making a “straight path” to the Lord meant that a new way of relating to God was on the horizon. This is the aspect of shalom that implies there will be no more strife about approaching God. The Law and its use by religious leaders had become a hurdle so burdensome that it would be difficult for the average person to feel any sense of security or safety in their salvation. This new way of relating to God, it required a radical symbol of obedience to symbolize the break with the old and adoption of the new way.

That radical break was John preaching in the wilderness “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” Now baptism was not a new thing for Jews in that day. Gentiles who wanted to convert to Judaism would submit to a ritual bathing, a “baptism,” that was a memorable representation of their cleansing from their pagan ways. But John insisted that even the Jews needed to baptized as a sign of breaking from the legalistic application of the Law and starting anew on the same footing with the Gentiles. The distinction between Jew and Gentile was being put in the rear-view mirror. All people would come to God on the same terms without any bias.

Now I want to give a caveat here: I’m going to talk about baptism here as it was historically practiced in that day, that is, by immersion. In doing so, I want you to know that this is in no way intended to disparage or diminish the importance and significance of whatever baptism you had by whatever mode. I trust you know me well enough by now that I would never do that to you. I’ve shared my own personal journey with you before, that I was baptized by sprinkling as an infant here in this church and when I got older, I chose to be immersed to have my own personal memory of owning my faith. It’s a personal choice we each must make based on our convictions and our tolerance for getting wet. Having said that, if you’ve never been baptized and decide that’s something you want to do at some point, let’s talk. I’ve got connections.

This baptism, and the repentance that must accompany it according to John’s preaching, is the beginning our source of shalom peace, especially as it relates to our wholeness, purity, and security. The word “baptism” is just an English version of the Greek word, βάπτισμα (baptisma; verb: βαπτίζω baptizō), that drops the final vowel. In other words, there was no attempt to translate the meaning of the word, just to adopt the word itself and expect people to understand its meaning. It derives from a shorter Greek word, βάπτω (baptō), which means “to dip.” That word refers to dipping a finger in water or to the bread dipped in the bowl at the Last Supper. The –isma part of baptisma acts like an intensifier, much like the similar sounding ending added to “forte” (f) “loud” to make “fortissimo” (ff) “very loud” in music notation. So “baptism” in that time meant “immersion,” that is, “a complete dip under water.”

As I said above, then, this immersion is intended to represent a complete break with the past for the Jews and the Gentiles, just like the accompanying repentance was meant to be a complete 180° turnaround in thinking about one’s relationship with God. This was the first step in making peace with God: getting back on the straight and narrow path with him. We see John warning the religious leaders, the “brood of vipers” (cf. Matthew 3:7ff), to repent as well. Even the tax collectors want to be baptized, probably because they’re tired of feeling the stigma from the Jews about having such a career. They’re disgusted with themselves and desire perhaps more than anyone else that clean break with their past.

It’s important to notice here the end result of baptism and repentance as Luke and others describe it: “for the forgiveness of sins.” Many scholars debate whether this means the baptism and repentance are necessary for the forgiveness or if that is simply the recognition of our forgiveness of sin apart from the act itself. We don’t need to debate that here, though,[6] because the important part of that is our sins ARE forgiven. This phrase shows up in several other places in Scripture that are worth noting.

The phrase is found in the parallel passage in Mark 1:4, so no big surprise there. It’s found in Matthew’s account of the Last Supper (26:28) with respect to the cup: “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”[7] Jesus uses the phrase in Luke 24:46–47 when he makes a post-resurrection appearance to his disciples: “This is what is written: The Messiah will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, 47 and repentance for the forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem.”[8] Finally, we see it in Acts 2:38, connected with baptism and the gift of the Holy Spirit, when Peter concludes his Pentecost sermon: “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.”[9] The response of the crowd is the birthday of the church!

Now this is a lot of information but let me pull it together here in one paragraph. In communion, we recognize the blood of Jesus would be and has been shed for the forgiveness our sins. John the Baptist says prophetically that our corresponding response to Jesus’s sacrifice should be repentance and baptism. If we read a little farther down in the gospel accounts, we come to the point where Jesus is baptized and we see the Holy Spirit descending like a dove. That sounds very much like the experience of the apostles and those in the upper room in Acts 2 on the day of Pentecost, which is why Peter can say to the crowd that after they repent and are baptized, they will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. John the Baptist says it more dramatically: “John answered them all, ‘I baptize you with water. But one who is more powerful than I will come, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie. He will baptize [that is, immerse] you with the Holy Spirit and fire.’”[10] Finally, in the gospel of John, Jesus lets us know that he’s leaving his peace with us in the person and presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives. The entire gospel story of our salvation and forgiveness is represented by two significant sacraments of the church: our once-in-a-lifetime baptism (or twice for someone like me) and our regular monthly communion. But we also have a daily, or even constant reminder of our salvation with the presence and infilling of the Holy Spirit.

By the time the apostle Paul writes Romans, perhaps within 25 years of the earthly ministry of Jesus, he has processed all this information as well. The first four chapters of Romans represent Paul’s argument about why we need Christ for our salvation and to help us achieve “the obedience of faithfulness” he speaks about. In chapter 5, Paul begins to write about how this impacts the life of the believer in baptism. In 5:1, he writes: “Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.”[11] Then in chapter 6, he says this about baptism: “Don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.”[12] Baptism, like communion, is another way we encounter the blood of Christ that brings us forgiveness.

In chapter 8, Paul reassures his readers that the roadblocks have been removed, another element of the shalom peace we have with God: “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death.”[13] Finally, in chapter 12, Paul reminds us that because of Christ’s sacrifice for us, we can be living sacrifices for him: “Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.[14]

God desires to give us peace in abundance, not just in this advent season, but each and every day we walk with him. That peace comes from the blessings he’s bestowed upon us as learn to live out the good works he’s prepared in advance for us to do (Ephesians 2:10). It comes from recognizing the work of the Holy Spirit in our own lives to sanctify us and draw us closer to God. It comes from sharing the good news with others who need to hear it or who want to find a church home they’re comfortable in. And it comes from meeting together in sweet fellowship each and every Sunday as we walk in unison as the body of Christ.

May the peace of God go with you today and always. Amen.


[1] The New International Version. Luke 1:76–77, 79. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[2] The New International Version. Luke 2:14. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[3] The New International Version. Luke 2:29–30. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[4] The New International Version. Luke 12:49–51. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[5] The New International Version. John 14:27. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[6] I have written about this elsewhere in my blog. The Mystery of Immersion (Baptism); Mystery of Immersion (Baptism), Part Two; For the Forgiveness of Sins)

[7] The New International Version. 2011. Matthew 26:28. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[8] The New International Version. 2011. Luke 24:46–47; see also Isaiah 2:3. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[9] The New International Version. 2011. Acts 2:38. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[10] The New International Version. 2011. Luke 3:16. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[11] The New International Version. 2011. Romans 5:1. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[12] The New International Version. 2011. Romans 6:3–4. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[13] The New International Version. 2011. Romans 8:1–2. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[14] The New International Version. 2011. Romans 12:1. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

Scott Stocking. My views are my own.

December 7, 2024

Advent Hope

I presented this message at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, NE, on December 1, 2024, the first Sunday in Advent.

What comes to mind when you hear the word “hope”?

If they’re motivated to stay off electronic devices for a while, a young girl might say, “I hope I get an American Girl doll for Christmas,” or a tweenage boy might say “I hope I get a remote-control race car.” The parents might say, “I hope we can pay off our credit cards after Christmas.” In the case of the kids, the “hope” that they might get what they asked for is at its core just a wish, but depending on their relationship with the potential gift givers (or promises made by those potential gift givers), their hope may have a firmer foundation than just a wish.

In the case of the parents, that “hope” becomes more of a pledge or commitment to do the hard work to pay off the cards and not so much winning the lottery, and “hoping” that no other major expenses arise that put a roadblock up against that goal.

For those who face more serious problems than what to get or how to pay for Christmas, their hope may take on a whole new dimension. This is very real in my own family situation right now. When the situation is bigger than you can handle on your own and you have little to no control how such help will come to you, “hope” begins to take on aspects of faith. This is similar to the kind of hope Paul ascribes to Abraham in Romans 4:18 when discussing the promise that Abraham would be the father of many nations even though he was old: “Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations, just as it had been said to him, ‘So shall your offspring be.’”

That hope sustained Abraham and the rest of his descendants not only in the long term, but it sustained him when God had asked him to sacrifice his son at Mount Moriah. He did not hesitate, because he knew, as we find out Hebrews 11 later, God could raise Isaac from the dead if that’s what it took to fulfill the promise.

Now you may find it interesting that the noun for “hope” (ἐλπίς elpis) never appears in the gospels. The verb (ἐλπίζω elpizō) only appears three times: once in an Old Testament quotation (Matthew 12:21) and twice in Luke (23:8; 24:21), once in reference to Herod’s hope that Jesus would perform a miracle in front of him, and the other in the disappointment of the disciples on the road to Emmaus about their hope that the recently crucified Jesus (who was walking with them at the time!) would redeem Israel. In fact the concept of “hope” does not really come to the fore until Paul is converted and begins his evangelistic mission to the Gentiles and writing his own letters to the young churches. Equally surprising is that neither the noun nor the verb is found in the book of Revelation, the book that documents our ultimate victory and fulfillment of our eternal hope.

One way to interpret this, I think, is that because the gospels record the life and events of Jesus the Messiah, the Old Testament hope of his coming was realized. They didn’t have to hope any more because he was there! But Jesus’s death and resurrection put new spin on what Jesus’s ministry on earth was really all about. It wasn’t about overthrowing Rome; it was about showing the Jews how God wants to relate to them. The Jews up to that point thought that his first coming was his only coming, and that would be the establishment of the eternal kingdom. But Jesus’s resurrection was not only for the Jews but for all mankind, and so the new hope, the hope of a resurrection into eternity, was what Christ-followers now had to communicate to the Gentiles AND the Jews. Everyone needed to know the message. The book of Revelation emphasizes the role of the Savior, the Lamb of God, in the last days, so again, that is the story of hope realized.

That is one reason why our NT passage today speaks about the end times. But since we just covered that from Mark’s gospel a couple weeks ago, we’ll simply use that as a jumping-off point to talk about the theme of this first Sunday of Advent: Hope.

Hebrews 11:1 says, “Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” In context, that was referring to Old Testament patriarchs’ trust in the promise that the Messiah would come. Paul says in 1 Corinthians 13:13 that there are three things that will never pass away: “faith, hope, and love.” The question is, then, what is the eternal nature of this “hope” Paul and the other NT writers speak of? I would suggest that there are three main aspects of this hope:

  1. A more immediate hope for Christ-followers that gives them encouragement and strength to face the day-to-day battles.
  2. A hope for the ministry of the church that the gospel message would spread around the world and especially to the Gentiles.
  3. The hope of our final salvation and transformation into our eternal home in heaven.

Let’s take a look at each of these.

We’ve already hinted at the more immediate hope for believers as Paul described Abraham’s hope and faith in Romans 4 above. We see in Romans 12:12 that Paul wants the believers to “be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer,” activities in the here and now. We also see this toward the end of Romans in 15:13 in a sort of “mini benediction”: “13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”[1] Paul wants them to know the joy and peace of following Jesus in this life so that hope springs eternal in them.

We see in Ephesians 1:18 that Paul is praying they (and you) might know “the hope to which he has called you,” and he goes on to describe that hope in chapters 4 through 6 of that epistle: “just as you were called to one hope when you were called” (4:4b). In the verses immediately following that passage Paul describes the ways in which can live for Christ and live the Christian life to the fullest. Jesus equips us to minister in our own unique ways. He promises that when we do this, we will move on to maturity, learning what it means to put off the old self and to allow Christ to give us a new heart and a new attitude.

Paul even praises the Thessalonians for their exemplary faith and actions: “19 For what is our hope, our joy, or the crown in which we will glory in the presence of our Lord Jesus when he comes? Is it not you?”[2] The Thessalonians had willingly received and committed themselves to the word of God in spite of the suffering that ensued from their own people. Paul suggests that the Corinthians are in the same boat as the Thessalonians when he says, “And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.”[3]

On the second aspect, the ministry of the church, Paul recounts his own experience as he speaks of the hope he and the people of Israel had been waiting for: “This is the promise our twelve tribes are hoping to see fulfilled as they earnestly serve God day and night. King Agrippa, it is because of this hope that these Jews are accusing me.”[4] Paul would go on in that testimony to affirm that Jesus had called him to be a minister to the Gentiles so they would know the hope of the gospel. In Peter’s first letter, he says: “15 But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.”[5] He’s giving instruction there to those who are facing persecution, so that those who hold firm to their faith and do this “with gentleness and respect” might win over their haters and bring them into the fold for Christ.

Paul speaks of this in 1 Corinthians 9:10b as well: “Whoever plows and threshes should be able to do so in the hope of sharing in the harvest.”[6] Paul is talking here about his work as an apostle in taking the gospel to the Corinthians so that they might know the eternal hope of the gospel. Let’s take a look at this third and final aspect of hope, the hope of eternity in our heavenly reward.

In Acts 23:6, we have what is likely the earliest reference of Paul introducing the word “hope” into our Christian vocabulary in the sense of eternal hope. This happens after his arrest for allegedly disrupting Temple protocol. He’s standing there in front of the Sanhedrin as well as Roman soldiers, and Paul distracts the proceedings by bringing up a subject that causes infighting among the members of the Sanhedrin: “Then Paul, knowing that some of them were Sadducees and the others Pharisees, called out in the Sanhedrin, ‘My brothers, I am a Pharisee, descended from Pharisees. I stand on trial because of the hope of the resurrection of the dead.’”[7] Paul indicates here that the reason for his hope is based on the truth of Jesus’s own resurrection from the dead. Paul had perhaps already written his first letter to the Corinthians at this point, in which he says this about the resurrection: “16 For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. 17 And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. 18 Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ are lost. 19 If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied. 20 But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.”[8]

Paul understood that without the resurrection, there could be no hope of eternal life in heaven. Heaven is a real place, and our new, resurrected bodies will be “spiritual” in the sense that they will be incorruptible (1 Corinthians 15:42–44). This seems to suggest some unique makeup we can’t completely comprehend. Heaven has streets of gold, so we’ll be walking around. The tree of life will bear fruit each month (Revelation 22:2), so I’m guessing we’ll have something to eat.

Galatians 5:5 says, “For through the Spirit we eagerly await by faith the righteousness for which we hope.”[9] Paul emphasizes that in 1 Thessalonians 5:8–9: “But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, putting on faith and love as a breastplate, and the hope of salvation as a helmet. For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ.”[10] God “predestined” that those of us who believe would receive that eternal reward in heaven. Hold firmly to that promise until the end, as Colossians 1:22–23 says: “22 But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation—23 if you continue in your faith, established and firm, and do not move from the hope held out in the gospel.”[11]

Paul says in Romans 15:4 that the Old Testament also points us in this same direction, toward eternity with God in heaven: “For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope.”[12]

Titus 2:11–14 has a powerful summary of the three aspects of hope I’ve presented to you today:

11 For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. 12 It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, 13 while we wait for the blessed hope—the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, 14 who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.[13]

As we commence with the Advent season, let both remember and share the hope we have in Jesus, not only for our life in the here and now, but in our eternal life in the hereafter. May God bless you and your families and friends this Christmas season. Amen.


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

[2] The New International Version. 2011. 1 Thessalonians 2:19. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[3] The New International Version. 2011. 2 Corinthians 1:7. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[4] The New International Version. 2011. Acts 26:7 Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[5] The New International Version. 2011. 1 Peter 3:15. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

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

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

[8] The New International Version. 2011. 1 Corinthians 15:16-20. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

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

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

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

[12] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan. (See also Titus 1:2).

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

November 20, 2024

Jesus Wept 2.0 (John 11:32–44)

NOTE: This is revised and abridged from when I first preached this message at Wheeler Grove Rural Church on January 17, 2021, when that church first reopened after the COVID shutdown. I preached this version on November 3, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, NE. If you would like more details on the passage, please refer to the link above to see an expanded version of the message. The expanded version does NOT have an audio recording available.

Introduction

Our country has been through the wringer since COVID abruptly altered our lives four years ago. Many smaller churches and other small businesses were not able to survive through that. Others witnessed incredible violence in their cities in a complete disregard for human dignity and freedom. Human and drug trafficking increased to a level we’ve never seen before and should never see as a civilized, “first-world” nation. Thousands have lost their lives because of those horrible practices and the refusal by some leaders to try to get a handle on it.

Add to that the wars in Eastern Europe and the Middle East, where the larger nations and their allied surrogates gang up on the smaller but not necessarily defenseless nations and the thousands of deaths that have come from that. Such acts have emboldened other large and powerful nations to rattle their sabers at their smaller neighbors, causing much fear and anxiety not only for those neighbors but for the whole world.

As the body of Christ, his church, we believe that our responsibility as believers in the current climate is reflected in Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, chapter 10 verses 3 through 5: “For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”[1] While we don’t use the world’s weapons to fight for peace, however, we are called to put on the whole armor of God to defend ourselves in Ephesians 6 when we go to battle.

In the passage we’re looking at today, we see Jesus’s attitude toward life and death in stark contrast to how the Jews viewed it then and how we view it now. Jesus did not think life was cheap. He valued the individual, regardless of their rank in life, and even regardless of the type of life they led. We will also see perhaps the most intense display of Jesus’s humanity as well as glimpses into his divine nature.

What Makes God Weep?

As we come to the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead in John 11, we will see the full range of Jesus’s human and divine natures.

The story starts at the beginning of chapter 11 when Jesus learns that Mary and Martha’s brother, Lazarus, perhaps his best friend outside of the circle of the apostles, is sick. Jesus doesn’t seem concerned however, and like the good friend he is, he intentionally delays going to see Lazarus. Wait, wha? [Pause for effect, pretend to be confused and reread that sentence.] The apostles don’t understand Jesus’s delay, but only because he knows “this sickness will not end in death,” but “is for God’s glory.” “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep,” he says a few verses later but the apostles don’t pick up on the subtle reference. Jesus tells them plainly “Lazarus is dead.”

Now it should not surprise us that Type A Martha is the one to go out and meet Jesus at the gate when he finally arrives. Since it took Jesus four days from the time he got the news (at least from a human source) to go the two miles from Jerusalem to Bethany, Martha had plenty of time to think about what she’d say. Martha is chomping at the bit to make sure Jesus knows that because he wasn’t there, it’s all his fault that Lazarus died. Pretty harsh, right? In fact, Martha is so focused on getting these first few words out, we get no indication in the story that she’s in mourning. I think most of us know that feeling: we get our adrenaline going about something peripheral such that we forget how we’re supposed to feel or what we’re supposed to say about whatever the core issue is that is truly impacting us emotionally.

But either Martha knows she’s stuck her foot in her mouth after that first statement, or she really has been thinking about what her second statement would be: “But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”

Martha proves to have a heart of gold, a heart full of faith, and a desire for great theological conversation when she goes on to say, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” If there were other people within earshot of that statement, I’m sure it would have turned heads, especially if any of the crowd were Sadducees. This is exactly the reasoning Abraham used, according to the author of Hebrews, to not hesitate to obey God’s command about sacrificing Isaac. As such, Martha is the personal recipient of one of Jesus’s seven “I am” statements in the Gospel of John: “I am the resurrection and the life.”

To this point in the story, what do we see of Jesus’s divine and human natures? Someone brings him the message that Lazarus is dying, but Jesus is most likely already aware of this given what he says to his disciples about it. He doesn’t seem to be concerned about Lazarus dying, which, from a human perspective, might make him appear cold, matter-of-fact, and uncaring. If this were you or I, we’d want to make every effort to go see the friend on their deathbed. But his divine nature knows the end of the story. Jesus implicitly trusts in his heavenly Father that the end result will be for his glory.

So here we have Jesus, quite stoically handling the news of Lazarus’s death and just matter-of-factly stating that he is the resurrection and the life. That last claim, by itself and at face value, would have been absolutely astonishing to his listeners. Most 30-year-olds in Jesus’s day were typically closer to their death than their birth, and the cultures around the Jewish people had little regard for the sanctity of life. Keep that and Jesus’s initial response in mind as we look at vv. 32–39 here. We pick up the story after Martha has gone to bring Mary back to see Jesus.

Read John 11:32–33

32 When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

33 When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.

Notice that Mary’s first response to Jesus is identical to Martha’s, except that Mary is making no pretense about her sorrow. She’s bawling, and everyone with her is bawling. The text doesn’t say, but I’m pretty sure Martha is standing there trying to be the strong one: “I’m not going to cry in front of Jesus! I’m not going to cry in front of Jesus!” Truly there is great sorrow here, and this is one of the few times in the Gospels where we see Jesus come face to face with not just mourners, but mourners who are most likely among his closest friends outside his inner circle. In the next few verses, we get a profound insight into the depths of Jesus’s human nature. Back to vs. 33:

Read John 11:3335

33 When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.

34 “Where have you laid him?” he asked.

“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.

35 Jesus wept.

There it is: “Jesus wept.” The shortest verse in our English Bibles. Nine letters. Six consonants and three vowels in three syllables. Yet nothing is more poignant, nothing is more revealing of the depth of human sorrow than weeping. And this isn’t some Hollywood zoom-in shot of Jesus’s face where he sheds one dramatic tear. Oh no! Jesus is in full-on weeping mode with his friends. And even though the story doesn’t say it, I think it’s safe to say that, to the extent Martha was trying to be the “strong one,” Martha’s floodgates open up here; she can’t hold it in any longer, and she begins to weep as well, perhaps precisely because Jesus wept. How profound it is when we see first hand that Savior of the world feels AND shows the same emotions that you and I feel at the death of a loved one. How profound to know that our God does NOT turn a blind eye to our sorrow and pain.

Now Jesus’s weeping is not a sudden outburst that isn’t expected in the story. John, in fact, is building up the tension in the story to that climax. Look back at the end of vs. 33: John says Jesus is “deeply moved” and “troubled.” That word is perhaps the strongest expression of “negative” emotion one could have. It would have been akin to Jesus saying something like, “I refuse to let this happen and will do what I can to fix it.”

Some commentators here go as far as suggesting that Jesus may have “snorted” here, sort of like a “harumph.” On the one hand, he could have been choking back the tears in light of all the weeping. On the other hand, and perhaps more importantly, Jesus may also be on the verge of cursing Death itself here. The one who is the resurrection and the life, the one who knew he himself must suffer horribly and die on the cross, and who knew God would thus give him ultimately victory over death, must face the death of a friend nonetheless. He shows himself to be the great high priest of Hebrews 4:15 who is not “unable to empathize with our weaknesses,” who has been tempted as we are, and yet was without sin.

Now I want to suggest something here that has probably never occurred to you: The main focus of John’s account of this story here is NOT that Jesus raises someone from the dead eventually. Jesus has already done several amazing miracles to this point, building up to the raising of Lazarus as the greatest of his miracles. Another miracle? I’m impressed of course, but not surprised. The reason “Jesus wept” is at the center of this whole story is because John is confronting Gnosticism, a belief in that day that what one does in the flesh has no value for faith. He intends this show of Jesus’s humanity as the highlight and climax of the story.

This is all pretty intense, right? So if we’ve hit the climax, where do we go from here? Well, there is “the rest of the story” as Paul Harvey used to say. There is, as literature professors would put it, the “anticlimax.” Note a further expression of Jesus’s humanity in vs. 36: “See how he loved him.” That word for love there typically implies a brotherly or familial love. It’s not the self-sacrificing agape love, and it’s certainly not any kind of romantic love. It reveals the deep friendship that Jesus had (and will have again) with Lazarus.

Even some in the crowd in v. 37 echo Mary and Martha’s sentiment asking, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

Read John 11:38–40

38 Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. 39 “Take away the stone,” he said.

“But, Lord,” said Martha, the sister of the dead man, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.”

40 Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”

Once again, we see that word for “deeply moved” that we saw in v. 33. Jesus has still got some fire in him at this point. When he asks for the stone to be taken away, I think he’s not just making a polite request here. I think he spoke it like I read it, with that “I’ve-had-enough-of-this” indignation. “Let’s get this over with; he’s been dead long enough.” Of course, Martha, the rational one, has regained her composure in the time it took to walk over to the tomb, and isn’t too thrilled about consequences of removing the stone. That just stokes Jesus’s fire all the more. “I’m going to raise your brother and you’re worried it might stink a little bit?” I’m pretty sure that the “glory of God” at that point was not going to have any stink associated with it.

Read John 11:41–44

41 So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.”

43 When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” 44 The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.

Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.” [2]

In v. 43, Jesus’s fire is still going. Again, it’s not a polite request or, “Hey, Lazarus, ollie ollie ots and free.” Jesus booms with a loud, commanding voice, loud enough to literally wake the dead, “Lazarus, come out!” I think it’s interesting that the NIV here says “The dead man came out.” Umm, looks like he’s not dead any more. The more literal translation here is “the one who has been dead came out.” Can I get an “Amen”?

I’m sure he’s got a huge smile across his face at this point, as do all those who’ve seen Lazarus rise from the dead and walk out of the grave. Jesus’s happiness, smile, and dare I say laughter are all additional profound insights into Jesus’s human side. The Savior who weeps with us in our time of sorrow rejoices with us in our time of joy.

Conclusion/Call to Action

John 11 is a powerful story about Jesus’s love for a friend and his disgust with death and the seeming cheapness of life in the world around him. But how does that impact us today? What are steps that we can take as believers to promote the value of the individual, especially in this time when we’ve had to be isolated from ones we love?

Each of us brings value to the kingdom of God, value that God imparted to us from our mother’s womb according to Psalm 139. But we also must be willing to extend grace. T.D. Jakes once said: “We have a tendency to want the other person to be a finished product while we give ourselves the grace to evolve.” My prayer is twofold. First, that we recognize the value in each and every individual and in what they bring to the table for the good of our families, our faith communities, the body of Christ, and our fellow citizens in the world. Second, that we act in such a way as to work to confront those things in our world that do NOT respect the values we hold dear, especially the preciousness of life. May we all go forth in the love and peace of Christ from this place. Amen.


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

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

September 23, 2024

Losing the “Greatest” Argument (Mark 9:30–37; James 4)

Preached Sunday, September 22, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church.

We know Jesus. Amen

We know Jesus wept.

We know Jesus prayed.

We know Jesus healed.

We know Jesus preached the Word of God.

We know Jesus fed 5,000 men and their families.

We know Jesus walked on stormy waters later that evening

We know Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.

We know Jesus…caused arguments.

Bet you didn’t see that one coming. At least eight times in Mark 8 and 9, we see some kind of confrontation between people about who Jesus is, and sometimes they say it to his face! Now that takes some real chutzpah to argue with the Savior of the world. Our gospel passage comes at the end of a couple chapters in Mark where arguing plays a prominent role.

Now “arguing” may be too strong a term where the Greek words that translate to it occur. In some cases, the words might be translated “discussing vigorously,” “debating,” or simply “talking.” One of the words implies seeking knowledge together. Another term found a few times in these two chapters is “rebuke,” which suggests a different kind of confrontational discussion. But Jesus seems to be a First Amendment kind of guy: he doesn’t try to shut down their discussion. He’s actually curious about the discussions going on around him.

In 8:17, Jesus asks his disciples why they are arguing about not having bread after just having fed 4,000 people in the previous chapters. They must have given all that extra bread from the feeding to those who were fed. If I’d just fed thousands of people, I think I’d know why I didn’t have any bread! But as usual, the disciples just hadn’t put two and two together yet and missed the big picture of Jesus being the bread of life.

A little later in chapter 8, Peter tries to argue with Jesus (the NIV says he “began to rebuke [Jesus]”) for saying he’d be killed and rise again in three days. Jesus would go on from there and talk about how each one of us must take up our cross and follow him. Not exactly all sunshine and roses. But the reward is priceless.

After the Transfiguration, Jesus continues to speak about his death and resurrection, and of course, the disciples continue to discuss and maybe even argue about what all that means. Then Jesus comes across a group of people arguing about how to help a man’s possessed son. Jesus casts out the demon, and they continue on to Capernaum. Again, Jesus asks them what they were arguing about but they don’t want to fess up. They weren’t arguing about Jesus rising from the dead anymore. Evidently such a feat didn’t seem to suggest any greatness about Jesus in their minds because they were arguing among themselves about which one of them was greatest.

Talk about being clueless! Having that kind of argument given what they’d heard from Jesus recently is like someone telling Abraham Lincoln they brought about the end of slavery because they moved north of the Mason-Dixon line.

So how did Jesus solve the problem? How did he put an end to the silly argument about who was the greatest when Jesus himself was the GOAT? No, he didn’t bring his mother in to set them straight. He put a little child on his knee and said, in so many words, when you welcome the defenseless, the small and seemingly insignificant, the ones who have no power or influence—in other words, “the least”—you welcome Christ and his heavenly father into your life.

James talks about fights and quarrels in chapter 4. Let’s listen to what he says:

What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you? You desire but do not have, so you kill. You covet but you cannot get what you want, so you quarrel and fight. You do not have because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures.

You adulterous people, don’t you know that friendship with the world means enmity against God? Therefore, anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God. Or do you think Scripture says without reason that he jealously longs for the spirit he has caused to dwell in us? But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says:

“God opposes the proud

but shows favor to the humble.”[1]

While the disciples’ arguments about rising from the dead were more about “how can this be” and thus more noble and inquisitive discussions, their arguments about who was the greatest are borne out of selfishness, as James alludes to here. I think the key word in the James passage is “covet.” “Thou shalt not covet” seems like an unusual command, because all of the other commands have some tangible object or involve an intentional act against someone. But coveting at first glance almost sounds like a thought crime. The truth is, though, that coveting involves much more than just desiring something.

Coveting involves desiring something that isn’t legally yours or that you can’t legally (or morally) have (taboo) and plotting how you might obtain such a thing or person, often by illicit, litigious, or questionable means. Sometimes those means can be obvious: “I’m going to find a wet spot in the grocery store where I can slip and fall and sue the store.” “I’m going to slam on the brakes so the car behind me rear-ends me and I can get a new car.” “I’m going to buy a hot coffee at McDonald’s and put it between my legs so it burns me.”

Other ways are more subtle. Someone might linger longer talking to the neighbor’s opposite-sex spouse. Or you might borrow something from your neighbor and “conveniently” forget to return it. You can see how James’s words here play out in our modern lives. We get stuck in the rut of thinking first about ourselves—what we want, what we think about someone, what we think things should be like.

Now let’s return to our Gospel text for a minute: We looked at two things they were arguing about in Mark 8–9: Jesus rising from the dead and who was the greatest. But do you notice what other dynamic is playing out here? It may be so obvious as to escape notice. As they’re arguing amongst themselves about what Jesus meant when he said he would rise from the dead, who’s there with them? Jesus! Peter doesn’t bother to ask Jesus what he meant by that; he, and most likely the other disciples, had apparently already come to the conclusion that Jesus was not going to die, at least not any time soon. What is Jesus’s response in Mark 8:33–34? “But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter. ‘Get behind me, Satan!’ he said. ‘You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.’”[2] Why did Jesus look at the disciples first and then rebuke Peter? My guess is the disciples had probably put him up to say something to Jesus.

Maybe that was enough to scare the disciples into continuing to talk about Jesus rising from the dead amongst themselves a little later in chapter 9. Again, Jesus is with them, but for whatever reason, they can’t bring themselves to ask Jesus what he meant‽ Isn’t this exactly what James said? “You do not have because you do not ask God.” When you think about it, it’s kind of bewildering that they wouldn’t ask the guy who said that when they’ve been hanging out with him for months.

That’s what makes the argument about “Who’s the greatest?” so odd in our gospel passage today. They get busted by Jesus twice, probably in the space of a few days to a week, for not thinking through the implications of Jesus dying and rising again, so instead of saying, “If Jesus can do that, he must be greatest,” they argue about who amongst themselves is the greatest, as if any of them could lay claim to foreknowledge of their own death and resurrection!

Jesus settles the argument using the example of little child in the crowd. “God opposes the proud, but shows favor to the humble,” as James quoted from Proverbs 3:34: “He mocks proud mockers but shows favor to the humble and oppressed.”[3]

In our deeply divided culture today, it seems like more and more we see arguments on any number of cultural, religious, and social hot-button issues. In some cases, we even see people being shamed, cancelled, or ostracized for believing or not believing a certain way. But this was not Jesus’s way when people did not believe him or fell short in some way. When Jesus told the rich young ruler he’d have to sell everything and follow him, the ruler walked away sad, but Jesus never followed that up with any condemnation for that person individually. When Jesus looked at Peter at the moment Peter denied knowing him for the third time the night before the crucifixion, Jesus didn’t shout across the courtyard “You’re fired!” He never gave any hint of starting a revolt against Roman rule, even though that’s what most Jews were expecting. Jesus saved his harshest words for the religious leaders who were abusing their power and misleading the people.

What can we take away from this today? The Bible does not leave us without solutions. James 4:7–10 gives us a good start:

Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom. 10 Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.[4]

In a nutshell, focus on God, resist the devil, and humble ourselves. Some scholars have called James the “Proverbs” of the New Testament. If you read the whole chapter of Proverbs 3, you’ll see that James’s words here are a summary of the wisdom in that chapter. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart” (vs. 5). “Don’t let wisdom and understanding out of your sight; preserve sound judgment and discretion” (vs. 21). “Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due when it is in your power to act” (vs. 27).

Our reading from Psalm 1 today ties in as well: “Blessed is the one…whose delight is in the law of the Lord….That person is like a tree planted by streams of water.”

The bottom line is, the most important thing we can do for our spiritual maturity and sanity is keep our eyes on Jesus. I say that to myself as much as I’m saying it to you. In my day job, I have the “privilege,” if you want to call it that, of reading and reviewing all the government rules and laws that come out regarding healthcare, so I’ve come to have a pretty strong opinion of some of those policies, and I do actually enjoy that at times. But all of that pales in comparison when I hold it up to the greatness of God and the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ. Politics and government won’t save anybody in the end. The uncertainty of what’s to come in the next few months is mitigated by Psalm 2 and the fact that we have an eternal home waiting for us, and I want keep my eyes on that prize above all else.

Peace to you all as we dive into autumn! 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. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

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

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.

July 28, 2024

The Lord’s “Lunch”: Feeding of the 5000 (John 6:1–21)

Historical Note: I preached this message at Mount View Presbyterian Church on July 28, 2024. After the service, the organist, who also manages the rotating schedule of preachers, mentioned to me that the pastor who is the moderator for the Session (church board) had preached on this passage the previous week, even though we’re encouraged to follow the lectionary, and had said the “miracle” of feeding the multitudes was that everyone shared their lunch. As you’ll read/hear in my message, I make no bones about this event being a genuine miracle, and even cited a couple instances where I’d heard this pastor’s particular interpretation many years ago, one of which was from a guest pastor at Mount View when I was in high school (yes, I remember part of a sermon I heard in high school). I had no idea she had put that idea forward when I prepared my message, although I do believe God prompted me to include my own historical experience in my message.
I was standing with my mom when the organist told me that, and they both appreciated that I defended the position that the event was a true miracle of multiplication and providence. They had never heard the “shared-their-lunch” theory before and were a little confused about that, though it’s likely some sharing did happen in such a large crowd. It’s funny but sad that Satan knows Jesus could turn stones to bread but some don’t think Jesus could create bread from nothing.
–Scott

Jesus just wanted some alone time. John’s gospel doesn’t put the events of Jesus’s ministry in chronological order, so we don’t always get the historical context. In the Synoptic Gospels, we see that Jesus was quite busy with his ministry up to this point. He was traveling around healing and working miracles, even raising the dead. He had been confronting the religious leadership, sometimes through his parables. He even settled on his 12 disciples that formed his core group.

But the “triggering” event, it would seem, was the death of a beloved family member. The story of the death of Jesus’s cousin, John the Baptist, precedes the account of the feeding of the 5,000 in the Synoptic Gospels. Matthew, Mark, and Luke seem to be making the point that this was foremost in Jesus’s mind when, as Matthew says (14:13) “he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place,” and Mark and Luke tell us that the disciples went with him.

But Jesus already had quite a following, so it wasn’t easy for him to get away from the crowds. Even though he was in a remote place, the crowd came out in droves, because they wanted to hear more, and Jesus did not disappoint. But as Jesus was wont to do, he just kept teaching because the sheep needed a shepherd. I imagine the disciples had started getting hungry and sensing the crowd’s hunger long before one of the disciples spoke up. John suggests Jesus was setting them up, as he already had in mind to do this miraculous feeding.

I think we all know what happened, but there are a few details of the story that are worth highlighting here. First of all, it’s one of the few accounts of Jesus’s ministry that appears in all four gospels. The main event of the story is the same, but there are some minor differences in the details of the story about who spoke and who acted. Some people might see this as contradictions in the biblical account, but actually it shows that there were four different eyewitness accounts and that each writer mentions specific things. For example, John says Jesus asked how they would get enough bread to feed them. Jesus likely knew that the disciples had been talking amongst themselves about asking Jesus to send the crowd away to get their own food, as in the other three gospels, but John doesn’t mention that.

The agreement among that particular aspect of the story is that Jesus and the disciples seem to have an obligation for the well-being of the crowd. But while the disciples are thinking practically and economically about a solution, Jesus is thinking miraculously and ultimately spiritually, and to a certain extent, ecclesiastically, that is, how he expects the “congregation” to act when they’re together. I’ll dive into that a little later in the message.

Mark adds what seems to be a reference to the Old Testament, just before the Jews received the Ten Commandments at Sinai. Normally we might expect Matthew to add an OT detail. Mark says the people sat down in groups of hundreds and fifties, agreeing with Jesus’s direction in John. This seems to refer to the time when Jethro told Moses that his burden as judge was too great and that he needed to delegate the resolution of disputes to capable men who could manage dispute resolution by appointing “officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties, tens.” That would make things easier for Moses to manage, as the lower officials could handle the small stuff. In the same way, the disciples would have an easier time managing the feeding of about 20,000 people (remember, the story specifies 5,000 “men”), even though at that point, the disciples still apparently had no idea how they would feed that many with a little boy’s lunch.

Now I want to emphasize here that I believe the feeding of the 5,000 was a real miracle of God’s providence for those who were following Jesus. Forty some years ago, some of you may remember the church near us that burned down (North Side??), and Mount View offered to share our building with them so they could continue to hold services. I think for a while we had separate services, then combined services in the summer. I distinctively remember their pastor speaking on this passage and suggesting that the “miracle” here was that everyone in the crowd was so inspired by Jesus thinking he could feed them with five loaves and two fish that they shared their own lunches with everyone around them. A few years later, I read that in one of my seminary text books as well. That’s a nice sentiment, but I. Now I’m relatively confident there actually was some sharing going on in a crowd that large, but if it was whole crowd, how could they have collected twelve basketfuls of broken pieces? Wouldn’t the crowd have kept their own portions for later? And the fact that the disciples and Jesus all seemed to recognize that the crowd didn’t have much food, and that they had stayed there listening to Jesus much longer than anyone had anticipated, tells me that God did indeed miraculously multiply the loaves and fishes for the crowd.

Bread was considered sacred to the Jews, so after a meal, they always had to collect any that was leftover, even if it had fallen on the ground. No five-second rule in that case! That’s the backstory behind the collection after the meal. But it’s worth talking about the baskets as well. Some of you may know that there’s also a story about feeding 4,000 people in Matthew’s and Mark’s gospels, and they picked up seven baskets after that event. The conventional wisdom is that the baskets [κόφινος (kophinos)] in our passage today were probably the disciples’ lunch baskets (perhaps because there were 12 baskets) that they carried with them when travelling, however a few sources think they may be larger. The seven baskets [σπυρίς (spyris)] in the feeding of the 4,000 story were thought to be somewhat larger, but we have no way of knowing for sure in either case. The point is, there was plenty leftover after the miraculous provision, and it’s likely that others collected the leftovers for themselves as well.

I mentioned earlier how these miraculous feeding stories tend to look forward a bit as well, both to their spiritual and practical significance. In John especially, the example Jesus sets here establishes the standard that allows him to say toward the end of chapter 6, after walking on water, “I am the bread of life.” His statement in 6:35 that “Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty” hearkens back to the woman at the well in John 4, where he says those who drink the water he gives would never thirst again. Remember, the Jews considered bread sacred, so when Jesus says he’s the bread of life, he’s saying he’s the life that comes from God and is imparted to us when we believe. Before he says he’s the bread of life, he mentions the manna in the wilderness: that’s what kept the Israelites alive for their 40-year wandering.

Additionally, you don’t need to be a scholar to see the connection with the Lord’s Supper. Jesus took the bread, gave thanks, broke it, and distributed it to his disciples. When they saw him break the bread at the Lord’s Supper, I’m sure every single one of them was reminded of the feeding miracles. “This is my body.” “I am the bread of life.” If they hadn’t already made the connection, they made it at the Lord’s Supper. Jesus would be their life, their salvation, and they were to remind themselves of that when they gathered by taking the bread and the cup. He even says, “Do this in remembrance of me.” That must have mystified some of them, because even though he had been talking about his impending death, even at the Lord’s Supper they probably didn’t realize the time was at hand. He took the sacred ritual of the Passover and redefined it around his own impending sacrifice. No longer would it be about breaking free from the bondage of Egypt over a millennium earlier; now it would be about being released from the power of sin once and for all by his death. “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.” It brings forgiveness, hope, and peace.

In a world of traveling by shank’s mare or a real mare, people took their time. That’s why we see in the early church in the book of Acts, believers are meeting together in homes and breaking bread together, both for a meal, as the disciples did at the Lord’s Supper, and for what we know as communion today to remember the Lord’s Supper and his sacrifice. The life of the early church was built around strong community bonds rarely seen today. Back then, their weekly meetings probably lasted a full day when you include the meal and whatever instruction they received from God’s word. Today, most congregations limit their services to about an hour. “Everybody comes and goes so quickly here,” as Dorothy said about Oz. Even with all our fancy technology, we still have trouble staying connected at times.

Regardless of the size of one’s congregation, it’s important that you always work to foster and maintain that sense of community. Your potlucks and quilting bees and other activities are important parts of that sense of community and your identity as a church family. That sense of community and identity helps you discover your purpose and mission as well. Never lose sight of that.

[On the audio: Extemporaneous sidebar on the Walking on the Water passage. Main point: You need to let Jesus into your boat when the storms of life assail you.]

I know some of the best times for me, especially in this past week as my daughter Erin and her husband were preparing to move to San Antonio, are when we can have a leisurely meal at home and then sit around the table and play a board game together. After having her close by for over four years, it will be a while before I’ll get to see her in person again. I will certainly cherish that time, even though I lost every game we played. That doesn’t happen too often.

In our gospel passage today, we see that not only does Jesus have lordship over the food produced on land and in the sea, but he also has lordship and authority over the weather as well by walking on water. Because all authority in heaven and earth has been given to him, he is able to be a high priest who understands our needs and strengthens us where we are weak. He is our Savior, and we praise him for what he has done and is doing in our lives.

The stories of the feeding of the multitudes are not about how Christians can feed the world, but about how God “feeds” us and strengthens us in his Word and affirms us in our salvation. God provides for us, sometimes through our own skill and labor, but other times through his miraculous provision. May we always look to Jesus for the eternal life and hope he offers to us. Amen.

June 30, 2024

Touch of the Master (Mark 5:21–43)

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I think we can all agree that there is great benefit to power of human touch, from the time we’re in our mother’s womb to the day of our death. Scientists know, for example, that a newborn benefits almost immediately from touch. A Psychology Today article summarized one study this way: “Skin-to-skin contact in even in the first hour after birth has been shown to help regulate newborns’ temperature, heart rate, and breathing, and decreases crying” (Ferber, Feldman, & Makhoul, 2008). Another study of Romanian orphans in an understaffed orphanage found that the children that experienced less touch had trouble with physical growth and development. Even having a pet can play a significant role in our need for touch.

A quick search in an artificial intelligence search engine created the following list of benefits from physical contact:

Human touch has the power to12345:

  • Signal safety and trust, and it can be soothing.
  • Calm cardiovascular stress.
  • Activate the body’s vagus nerve, which is intimately involved with our compassionate response.
  • Trigger release of intimacy hormones.
  • Support physical, emotional, and mental health.
  • Increase happiness and longevity.
  • Nurture relationships and overall well-being.
  • Lower blood pressure as well as cortisol, our stress hormone.

From a simple handshake to the more involved “secret society” handshakes, from a fist bump to a pat on the back, from the encouraging side-hug to a full-on hug, from a simple kiss to, well, you know, and even the gentle rough-housing we do with our kids when they’re younger, human touch has the power to affirm, assure, comfort, encourage, empower, gladden, guide, and strengthen us throughout our lives.

When we look at the idea of “touch” in Scripture, we get two very different pictures of the word in the Old and New Testaments. In the OT, more than half the uses of the main word used for “touch” are found in Leviticus and Numbers and are used in the negative, that is, God or the writer prohibits people from touching something that will make them unclean or that is unholy, primarily a dead animal or person. We do have a few positive examples of “touch” in the OT, so I want to highlight those briefly, because they will tie into our main gospel passage this morning.

Here’s an interesting example from 2 Kings 13:21: “Once while some Israelites were burying a man, suddenly they saw a band of raiders; so they threw the man’s body into Elisha’s tomb. When the body touched Elisha’s bones, the man came to life and stood up on his feet.”[1] Even touching the bones of a dead holy man was enough to bring someone back to life! It makes you wonder what those who had to carry Jesus’s body from the cross to the tomb must have felt touching his body. Things that make you go “Hmmmm.”

Isaiah is “commissioned” to be a prophet in chapter 6 verse 7 of his book by an angel touching his lips with a burning coal, saying, “See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for.”

Jeremiah (1:9) didn’t need a burning coal, evidently, as he says, “Then the Lord reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, ‘Now, I have put my words in your mouth.’”

Daniel describes three different “touches” he received during one of his visions (vv. 10, 16, 18)

“A hand touched me and set me trembling on my hands and knees.”

“Then one who looked like a man touched my lips, and I opened my mouth and began to speak.”

“Again the one who looked like a man touched me and gave me strength.”

Daniel experiences the whole range of human emotions in a few short verses all because of the touch of a powerful angel or likely the preincarnate Christ himself.

Our psalm reading this morning, Psalm 130, doesn’t use the word “touch,” but you can hear the longing to have the Lord draw near to them, as is evident by the psalmist alternating between the personal name of the Lord (Yahweh) and the kingly title “Lord” (Adonai). They want the Lord “near” them so they know he hears them; they want the touch of forgiveness that Isaiah received; their whole being desperately waits for him to appear and confirm their hope in him.

Now the New Testament has quite a different focus for the word “touch.” In the Gospels you can count on one hand the number of times the word touch is NOT used to refer to a healing or to someone being raised from the dead. The prominent use of the word is in the gospels in the context of Jesus healing someone or raising them from the dead. It’s not just a spiritual reality of forgiveness or being gifted the ability to speak God’s word. It is an actual, physical reality that people were healed of diseases and brought back to life by the touch of Jesus’s hand or by someone reaching out to touch him.

This brings us to our gospel passage today. This is the dramatic climax of the first section of the gospel of Mark, where we have one story of an imminent resurrection interrupted by another story of a woman who’s been sick for 12 years. Up to this point in Mark’s gospel, we’ve read about several miracles Jesus has already done. Right after this story is when Jesus returns to his hometown and commissions the Twelve to go out and minister with their own power of a healing touch, especially through anointing with oil.

We pick up the story as Jesus is returning from the other side of the lake where he had just released a man who had been possessed by a legion of demons by casting those demons into a herd of pigs. In most cases, that might be a tough miracle to top, but this is Jesus we’re talking about.

Jesus is immediately met by a large crowd, including a synagogue ruler named Jairus. A synagogue ruler was basically an assistant to the rabbi and handled the administrative tasks of running the synagogue and organizing worship and community activities. He would have been quite well-known in the community and generally respected as much as the rabbi himself. Jesus himself may have even interacted with him a few times leading up to this point, which may be why Jesus didn’t hesitate to go with him immediately when Jairus asked him to heal his daughter.

It would not have taken long for the awareness of Jairus’s request and Jesus’s response to spread through the large crowd, and it would seem they all started getting excited about the possibility of another miracle. As such, they began following Jesus to Jairus’s home.

Meanwhile, the woman who had been sick for 12 years finds herself at the right place and the right time to assimilate into the crowd and try to get her hands on Jesus’s robe, because she thought (or knew?) that if she could just touch his cloak, she would be healed. I don’t think she really expected to be able to even talk to Jesus in her condition. She was probably embarrassed and perhaps may have been unclean because of her bleeding, so a large crowd was the perfect place for her to be anonymous.

But God had other plans for this woman. Even with the crowd clamoring around Jesus and the disciples trying to clear the road ahead of him to get to Jairus’s house, Jesus still realized that something unusual had happened to him in the crowd. He felt the healing power of God go out from him, and immediately he stopped. He turned and asked the crazy question, “Who touched me?” even with hundreds of people around him! The woman realized she couldn’t hide any more, and humbly, meekly stepped forward to “confess” what she had done and the result. Jesus declared her healed because of her faith, and by default her willingness to act on her faith and sent her on her way in peace.

Keep in mind that Jairus is with Jesus this whole time, probably worried about this delay and how it might affect his daughter. And sure enough, his worst fears come true. As Jesus is finishing up speaking to the woman, people from Jairus’s household come and tell him his daughter is dead. “Why bother the teacher anymore?” they say.

But Jesus turns to Jairus and reassures him: “Don’t be afraid; just believe.” Needing to break away from the crowd, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John with him to Jairus’s house while leaving the other disciples to handle crowd control. The mourners had already begun their wailing, and they laugh at Jesus when he says the child is not dead but only asleep.

The small group of those who believed what Jesus could and was about to do remained with Jesus and went into the house. I imagine you could have cut the anticipation with a knife. It’s hard to imagine what was going through the minds of the three disciples and the girl’s parents: Is he really doing this? Are they praying? Stunned? How would you have felt if you were there witnessing this?

I’m sure Jesus himself whispered a prayer to his heavenly father when he stretched out his hand to take hers and simply said, “Talitha Koum”; “Little girl, get up!” No fancy prayer. No $20 religious words or flowery mushy language. Just, “Get up!” And she did! I can’t even imagine how I might have felt witnessing something like this. The disciples had seen a lot of miracles to this point, but this one really had to take the cake. Yet in hindsight, we know that this was only halfway through his story. Not only was this done for the benefit of the girl and her family, but this was also the final teaching moment for Jesus’s disciples before he sent them out on their own. They needed solid evidence of Jesus’s power, and they got it in that moment.

The power of the touch of the master is truly an amazing thing in Scripture specifically and in our lives generally. I have to admit that in all my years of preaching, I’ve never looked into this topic in this kind of depth, and I was encouraged and motivated to present this message to you. I know there have been several times in my own life I’ve clearly heard the call of God, felt his hand of comfort on me, and have seen his heavenly servants at work.

Around the time I graduated from high school, Wayne Watson released a song called “The Touch of the Master’s Hand.” It was the adaptation of 1921 poem by Myra Brooks Welch. The song instantly became a favorite of mine. I want to close out with the second verse and chorus of this song this morning. In the first verse, the auctioneer is trying to sell an old, dusty violin and starts the bidding process on the violin, the last item on the block, with a one-dollar bid request. The second verse goes like this:

Well the air was hot and the people stood around

As the sun was setting low,

From the back of the crowd a gray-haired man,

Came forward and picked up the bow,

He wiped the dust from the old violin

Then he tightened up the strings,

Then he played out a melody pure and sweet, sweet as the angels sing,

And then the music stopped and the auctioneer,

With a voice that was quiet and low,

Said what is the bid for this old violin

And he held it up with the bow.

And then he cried out “One give me one thousand,

Who’ll make it two? Only two thousand; who’ll make it three?

Three thousand twice, now that’s a good price,

So who’s gotta bid for me?”

The people called out, “What made the change? We don’t understand.”

Then the auctioneer stopped and he said with a smile,

“It was the touch of the Master’s hand.”

May you be touched by the Master’s hand as you go from here this morning. Amen.


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

March 24, 2024

Rigged Trial; Real Redemption (Luke 22:54–62)

I preached this sermon Palm Sunday, March 24, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church.

“Lawfare” may be the political “term du jour” but it is hardly a new concept. The first known use of the word has been traced back to 1975, and at the time it referred to actions of an aggressor designed to try to declare military actions against them illegal by using human shields or other uses or misuses of the law to achieve military objectives. It has also been used to describe the attempts of some to question US military actions taken against terrorists, especially after 9/11. In the current climate, it refers to frivolous or unfounded legal action against those who’ve either committed no crime or whose actions did not deserve the level of retribution “the law” has thrown at them.

This doesn’t just affect political candidates or others who go against an “approved” narrative either. Some of you may have heard last week about a woman who was arrested in New York because she changed the locks on the doors of a house she owned to try to get rid of a squatter, someone who had illegally invaded her home and attempted to take possession of it by fraudulent means. The process to eject such people from a home you legally own can take up to two years in some places, and the owner is responsible for spending the money to prosecute the squatter and prove they legitimately own the home, all the while being denied access to their home. “The process is the punishment,” even if you’ve done nothing to deserve it.

As we come to our passage this morning from Luke, Jesus is being arrested after being betrayed by Judas and a violent confrontation in which Peter (at least according to John’s gospel) cuts off the ear of the high priest’s servant, Malchus. Jesus, even while under arrest, reaches out to heal the servant. Peter follows the crowd at a distance to the high priest’s home late that night. Our passage focuses on Peter’s actions outside the residence, but we’ll get to that in a bit. Luke doesn’t give us as much insight into what happened inside the high priest’s home, but other Gospel writers do. It’s there that we see some of the “lawfare” waged against Jesus.

Matthew puts Jesus before the Sanhedrin that evening, while Luke records the concluding element of the all-night trial happening the morning after. The High Priest and the rest of the council sort of back into prophesying that Jesus is the Son of God, especially with Jesus turning the tables on them in Matthew 26:64: “You have said so.” Basically, Jesus is saying that just by them entertaining the possibility that he is the Son of God, they themselves have committed the blasphemy they are accusing Jesus of. In John 11:51, we’re told that the High Priest had unwittingly prophesied that Jesus would die for the Jewish nation, so he’s again unwittingly confirming Jesus’s true nature and purpose.

Another element of their lawfare was the apparent illegality of the trial. The very judges that condemned Jesus were the same one who bribed Judas to betray him. Technically, they should have been disqualified from judging him. Jewish custom of the day, as recorded in their other writings at the time, forbade capital punishment trials from taking place after sunset. Furthermore, their customs forbade such trials from beginning on the day before the Sabbath, because their custom did have an element of compassion to it in that you couldn’t decide a capital punishment case in one day, and a unanimous verdict was considered possible evidence of conspiracy. Jesus was never given any chance to have an advocate for his defense, either, which was another violation.[1]

All of this was done to fulfill the Suffering Servant passage in Isaiah 53, especially vss. 7–8, which said:

He was oppressed and afflicted,

yet he did not open his mouth;

he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,

and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,

so he did not open his mouth.

By oppression and judgment he was taken away.

Yet who of his generation protested?

For he was cut off from the land of the living;

for the transgression of my people he was punished.[2]

One last thing about the trial of Jesus that night. Jesus quotes the Messianic Psalm 110 about being seated at the right hand of God. Psalm 110 is the most-quoted psalm in the New Testament, especially the first four verses:

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.”[3]

Psalm 110 was also a popular psalm to discuss among the early church fathers in their writings in the first four centuries of the Christian era as proof of Jesus’s messiahship and, especially as used in later parts of the New Testament, proof of his resurrection. Most Jews were not keen on having the Messiah sit at the right hand of God in heaven. They simply saw that as a reference to the authority of the human descendant of David who would sit on the throne. However, at least one prominent rabbi and his followers did use this passage and another one in Daniel to argue that the Messiah indeed was divine in nature. (For an in-depth study of this passage in relation to its use by early Christian writers, see Ronald Heine’s excellent book Reading the Old Testament With the Ancient Church (Baker, 2007) available from Logos Bible Software if you have an account with them or in ebook format through Christian Book Distributors.)

Now we know that at Jesus’s arrest, the disciples scattered, fulfilling Zechariah’s prophecy in 13:7: “Strike the shepherd and the sheep will be scattered.” Mark’s account of the arrest has a detail none of the other gospel writers have, that of a young man fleeing naked from the scene of the arrest. Some scholars have suggested that this was Mark himself, the author of that gospel. Even though the gospels say all the disciples scattered, we do know that Peter was able to follow the crowd that had arrested Jesus at a distance, which is where we pick up our main gospel passage this morning.

Now Peter knew from the Last Supper that Jesus had predicted he would deny knowing him three times before the rooster crowed but leave it to bull-headed Peter not to take heed to that, or at least, not to worry about any possible fallout from that. Or maybe it just went right over his head, thinking “Of course I won’t deny him!” The very fact that Jesus predicted that means Jesus knew his trial would be conducted illegally at night. If Jesus had predicted something like that about me, I might have been inclined to go shut myself in a cave somewhere and not speak to or be seen by anyone. But then, wouldn’t that in itself have been a form of denial? Even though Peter was arguably the most well known and the most vocal of the apostles, and thus the most recognizable, he still tried to conceal himself in a crowd outside the high priest’s home.

Sure enough, several in the crowd recognized Peter, first for his appearance and second for his Galilean accent when he protested and denied knowing Jesus. Each time someone called him out as one of Jesus’s followers, the rooster cleared its throat for that fateful crow. Had Peter somehow hoped Jesus’s prediction would be wrong? Or did Peter not realize that roosters always crow around sunrise? I don’t think the crow of the rooster was really a surprise to Peter, though. I believe he knew in his heart his denials, his lack of strength of character to acknowledge that he was a Christ-follower, were piercing his soul and conscience. Two weeks ago, when I spoke on the passage about being ashamed of Christ, I covered this, so I won’t go into again here.

However, I want to look forward a bit to see how Peter came out on the other side of this. Peter apparently had no idea what was going on with the trial of Jesus inside the high priest’s home. If he had been inside the house and had seen how the Sanhedrin was treating him, I wonder if Peter would have spoken up at that point, especially since there was no love lost between the Sanhedrin and the apostles at that point. If two people could have spoken in his defense, the whole thing might have turned out differently. But we know it wasn’t meant to end that way, because as Jesus had been telling his people and as the high priest had predicted, Jesus would have to die for our redemption.

Therein lies the irony of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus. A rigged trial ultimately led to our real redemption. Not only was the trial rigged on the Jewish side, but once the Sanhedrin had wrongly convicted Jesus of blasphemy, they knew they couldn’t be the ones to put him to death. Only Rome had the authority to do that. So when they turned him over to Pilate and Herod, did they do so under the charge of blasphemy? Of course not! The Romans didn’t care about their religious disputes. Instead, the Sanhedrin changed the charges to usurpation, that Jesus was claiming to be the king of the Jews. That, they knew, would earn him the death sentence “In the Name of Roman Injustice” (INRI, get it?). The Sanhedrin had to stir up the crowd before Pilate to the point of making him fear a riot in order for Pilate to pronounce the flogging and the death penalty on Jesus, even though the gospels reveal some hesitation on his part to do so.

Jesus was crucified shortly thereafter. The typical method of crucifixion involved breaking the legs of the crucified so they could not push themselves up to breathe, but by the time the guards had gotten around to Jesus, he had already suffocated, according to John’s account (19:31–37). The fact that they only pierced his side but didn’t break his legs[4] was a fulfillment of two prophecies (Psalm 34:20; Zechariah 12:10). The water and blood that flowed from his side was a medical indication that Jesus was in fact dead.

Hebrews 9 gives the ultimate treatise on why blood needed to be shed in order for purification to take place and a covenant to be established. In vs. 19, we’re told that a diluted mixture of the calves’ blood and water was sprinkled on all the people to sanctify them for the new covenant under the Ten Commandments. Verse 22 says that “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness.” Jesus was the perfect, unblemished lamb of God because he never sinned. Although his body had been thrashed by a cat of nine tails whip, he had no bones broken, so he met the qualifications for the Passover lamb, which happened when God delivered the Jews from slavery in Egypt.

Here’s another connection you may not have considered. In Leviticus, Moses says that certain types of sacrifices, both meat and grain, could be eaten by the priests. When Jesus instituted communion at the last supper, he identified the bread and the wine as his body and blood. When we take communion, that is our way of connecting with the body and blood of Christ, not in the Catholic sense of the elements becoming the body and blood of Christ, but in the sense that we, like the priests, are partaking in the sacrifice first-hand. That’s why we consider communion a “sacrament,” because if we understand its true meaning and the reality behind it, we know that such an act has redemptive power for us. As one Scottish Presbyterian minister in the 18th century said when a woman who was not a member of his congregation asked if she could take communion, the minister replied, “Tak’ it; it’s for sinners.” There’s a spiritual benefit for each of us when we take communion, especially with a proper understanding of its meaning.

Getting back to Peter: he experienced real redemption in several ways after Christ rose from the dead. Jesus appeared to the disciples the very night of the day he was resurrected, and they all received the same blessing and commission from Jesus. John records his encounter with Jesus at the Sea of Galilee after Peter had apparently returned to the life of a fisherman. He asked Peter three times, once for each denial, if he loved him, and Peter emphatically said he did. Peter would go on a few weeks later to deliver the Pentecost sermon that started it all, the birthday of the church. History (or is it tradition?) has it that Peter was eventually crucified upside down on a cross because he didn’t feel worthy of the same kind of crucifixion Jesus suffered.

As Lent comes to a close this week and we embark upon the Easter season and look forward to our birthday celebration of Pentecost, let us not forget the sacrifice of our savior on the cross, and the provisions he made for us upon his resurrection and in the pouring out of the Spirit at Pentecost. We have a great Savior who has done great things for us, so let us not be ashamed to proclaim his name and his salvation to the world. Amen.

My thoughts are my own.

Scott Stocking


[1] See, for example, 10 Reasons Why the Trial of Jesus Was Illegal – Bible Study (crosswalk.com), BibleResearch.org – Twelve Reasons Why Jesus’ Trial Was Illegal, and The Illegal Trial of Christ | Christ.org, accessed 03/22/24.

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

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

[4] The leg bone of the Passover lamb in Exodus was not to be broken either (Ex 12:46).

Postscript: I want to include the study note from Mark 14:53–15:15 from the 2011 version of Zondervan’s NIV Study Bible, because it contains a harmonization of the various Gospel accounts of Jesus’s trials.

Jesus’ trial took place in two stages: a Jewish trial and a Roman trial. By harmonizing the four Gospels, it becomes clear that each trial had three episodes. For the Jewish trial, these were: (1) the preliminary hearing before Annas, the former high priest (reported only in Jn 18:12–14, 19–23); (2) the trial before Caiaphas, the ruling high priest, and the Sanhedrin ([Mk] 14:53–65; see Mt 26:57–68; Lk 22:54–65; Jn 18:24); and (3) the final action of the council, which terminated its all-night session ([Mk] 15:1; see Mt. 27:1; Lk 22:66–71). The three episodes of the Roman trial were: (1) the trial before Pilate (15:2–5; see Mt 27:11–26; Lk 23:1–5; Jn 18:28–19:16); (2) the trial before Herod Antipas (only in Lk 23:6–12); and (3) the trial before Pilate continued and concluded (15:6–15). Since Matthew, Mark, and John give no account of Jesus before Herod Antipas, the trial before Pilate forms a continuous and uninterrupted narrative in these Gospels.

March 13, 2024

How God Loved the World: John 3:14–21; Numbers 21:4–9

This message was preached on the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year B (March 10, 2024), at Mount View Presbyterian Church. Text is lightly edited for publication.

IMPORTANT NOTE: I’ve now added an e-mail option to the blog so you can contact me directly. scott.stocking@sundaymorninggreekblog.com.

“Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?” I think most of us remember that classic line from Raiders of the Lost Ark. Indiana, Sallah, and several workers have just opened up the roof of a long-buried crypt that was home to the Ark of the Covenant to reveal a “moving floor” about 30 feet below them. Indiana drops a torch down to reveal why the floor was moving: thousands of snakes. Of course, the best line in the movie comes right after that, though, delivered by John Rhys-Davies: “Asps, very dangerous. You go first.”

The Israelites must have had a similar response to Moses and to God when they had finally pushed God to his limit with all their complaining in their 40-year wilderness journey. The story is told in Numbers 21:4–9. They were impatient; they didn’t have any “real” bread; no water; and they hated what God had provided for them. Basically two million disgruntled souls who were trying to rough it out, knowing in their hearts they had to keep going for their children, because they had already lost their shot at dwelling in the Promised Land. God sent a bunch of poisonous, or “fiery” snakes to bite them. Some of them died, but the people pleaded with Moses and with God to save them from yet another judgment for their disbelief and unfaithfulness.

God told Moses to fashion what in Hebrew is called a saraph (שָׂרָף śārāp̄), a bronze serpent that itself must have had a fiery appearance in the desert sun, and put it on a pole so the Israelites who were bitten could look upon it and live. However, it did nothing for those who had already died. This bronze serpent was not an idol originally but rather something akin to a sign of judgment on the Israelites. It couldn’t save them from the pain of being bitten by the snakes, but it would save them from the poison that had entered their bodies. Something else was absorbing the fatal penalty of their disbelief. It’s a bit of a mystery why the word for the winged angels, or seraphim, of Isaiah 6 is also translated snake or serpent elsewhere. Regardless of the specifics of what it looked like, it must have fostered some measure of fear among the Israelites. “You can look at the scary bronze snake, or you can die from the real ones.”

As we read in our gospel passage this morning from John 3:14 and following, Jesus uses this story as a comparison to his own ultimate purpose for his incarnation. Even at the very beginning of the gospel, we get a preview of Jesus’s crucifixion and death even as Jesus has just finished speaking to Nicodemus about being “born again.” Jesus would be lifted up, but not as a king on a throne, a powerful warhorse, or carried on litter, but as a crucified savior on the cross. Look at the frightening image of what our own “poison,” our sin, has done to him and believe in God’s ultimate salvation, or walk away thinking it’s all over with and the cause is lost. Fortunately for us, the disciples did not choose the latter course of action.

This brings us to one of the most beloved and well-known verses of the Bible, John 3:16. “16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”[1] Most Bible translations put this paragraph from verses 16–21 on Jesus’s lips, but the NIV seems to think this verse and what follows is commentary added by John as he writes the gospel story. That’s a moot point, however, because regardless of who said it, it’s still true, right? Nevertheless, it seems to make sense to put these words in Jesus’s mouth, given he says some very similar things later in this gospel.

We can break verses 16–21 into two distinct sections. Verses 16–18 speak of “condemnation,” or the “perish” part of vs. 16. Verses 19–21 hearken back to the opening verses of John’s gospel by saying Jesus is the light. Let’s look at the condemnation section first and the conditions around that.

Notice first that Jesus says God’s purpose is that those who believe in him will inherit eternal life. This would have stuck in the craw of the Sadducees because a consequence of not believing in the resurrection was not believing in eternal life in God’s kingdom. Of course, this early on, the Jews may not have fully grasped that concept yet since many were expecting a physical kingdom and the overthrow of Rome. Eternal life is the opposite of “perish.” “Perish” at least refers to a spiritual death of sorts here, but it may also include physical death and perhaps even one’s own “extinction.” Jesus seems to have said this a slightly different way in Matthew 10:28: “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”[2]

Jesus also affirms the negative of this is NOT true, that is, it was NOT God’s purpose to have Jesus condemn the world, as such condemnation would lead to death. Only God the Father does the condemning. Although Jesus would have his fiery moments with the often times smug religious leaders of his day, his ultimate purpose was to get people to see a more excellent way, that of loving one another.

Jesus also says that people must “believe” or “have faith” in him. To some, that may sound like a simple mental assent to acknowledge Jesus as Savior. But the Greek word for believe (πιστεύω pisteuō) implies much more than that. It’s not just head knowledge, but heartfelt action as well. Another well-known passage from Romans 8:1–2 puts it this way: “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death.”[3] The “therefore” in Romans 8:1 refers to the arguments Paul has put forth in the first seven chapters of Romans, where Paul speaks of counting ourselves dead to sin (Romans 6:11), about the significance of our baptism (6:1–10), and about how our suffering for the sake of righteousness produces perseverance, character, and hope (5:3–5), among other things, all of which are demonstrated in the way we live our lives. Notice also how Paul describes Jesus’s role in all this in 5:15: “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.”

We also see this in Hebrews 5:11–6:12, where the author says the new believers can’t keep living on baby food. They’re in danger of falling away if they don’t grow their faith and do the hard things and the necessary things that lead to maturity. It’s spiritual “adulting.” Ephesians 2:8–10 says we’re saved by grace because we are God’s workmanship, created to walk in the good works he’s prepared in advance for us to do. Jesus’s half-brother James says faith without works is dead and useless (2:20). The works don’t save you, but they demonstrate your faith. The more you practice that, the stronger your faith becomes and the less likely you’ll fall away.

Those who have a strong, active faith don’t need to fear condemnation, then, as Jesus says in 3:18. On the flip side, if you know you’re not doing much to grow your faith, those seeds of doubt and condemnation can start to take root and grow. Consider this: those who have been called by God are partners with God in showing his love. Jesus brings this home in the last three verses of our passage today when he says, “This is the judgment.” By judgment, he means here is the standard by which you will be judged. Let’s see what that standard is.

The standard, of course, is Light, or more appropriately, the Light of the world, Jesus, and his message. Jesus uses the word light (φῶς phōs) five times in verses 19–21. This hearkens back to the opening of John’s gospel, where John describes Jesus in verse 9 as “The true light that gives light to everyone.” In the first nine verses of John’s gospel, John uses the word light six times. The word is found 12 more times from chapters 5 through 12, with half of those occurrences at the end of chapter 12. But starting in chapter 13, where Jesus washes the disciples’ feet at the Last Supper, neither John nor Jesus ever mention the word light again in the remainder of his Gospel.

In the three chapters of John where the word light is used the most, we do see Jesus repeating John’s opening words in chapter 1 and his own words from chapter 3, no doubt for emphasis. Listen to the similar language from the three chapters, and you’ll pick up on why John stops using the word light after chapter 12 (all passages from NIV):

John 1:5: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

John 1:9: “The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world.”

John 3:19: “Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.”

John 3:21: “Whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.”

John 12:35: “You are going to have the light just a little while longer. Walk while you have the light, before darkness overtakes you.”

John 12:36: “Believe in the light while you have the light, so that you may become children of light.”

In those last two verses from John 12 I just read, Jesus emphasizes to his disciples to take advantage of every moment they have left with Jesus as he approaches his trial and crucifixion. By this point, it seems the disciples are starting to have some sense of what is about to happen, but they’re still in a fog about it. They do and will have the light, but there is no way they can anticipate the gut wrench from the events about to unfold among them.

Jesus’s final mention of light comes in John 12 46–47, and this is a fitting verse to wrap up this message, because Jesus repeats what he said about him self in our passage this morning.

46 “I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.

47 “If anyone hears my words but does not keep them, I do not judge that person. For I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world.[4]

Even though Jesus did not come to judge, I know it must have broken his human heart each time someone rejected his message. Jesus came to show God’s love and compassion to those oppressed under a strict religious legalism. But he also was not afraid to say and do the hard things to confront evil among his people and in the world around him. He knew he couldn’t give people hope if he also didn’t break the old order and establish a new kingdom in the hearts of his followers. As we approach Easter, let us be lights in this world of darkness to draw people to the hope of Jesus. 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. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

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

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.

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