Sunday Morning Greek Blog

March 4, 2023

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

Background

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

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

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

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

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

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

Advent: Preparing for the Coming Messiah

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

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

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

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

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

Epiphany

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

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

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

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

Lent

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

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

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

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

The things that move us away from The Light.

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

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

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

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

5 Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,

only a day for people to humble themselves?

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

and for lying in sackcloth and ashes?

Is that what you call a fast,

a day acceptable to the Lord?[4]

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

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

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

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

And so on and so on and so on.

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

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

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

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

3           and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

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

the oil of joy instead of mourning,

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

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

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

Conclusion (for now)

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

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

My opinions are my own.

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.


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

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

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

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

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

February 27, 2023

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

Click Play above to hear the message.

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

Historical Background

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

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

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

Word Study on ἐπιφαίνω (epiphainō)

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

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

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

Background of the Magi

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

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

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

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

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

Prophetic Background for Epiphany

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

“Arise, shine, for your light has come,

and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.

See, darkness covers the earth

and thick darkness is over the peoples,

but the Lord rises upon you

and his glory appears over you.

Nations will come to your light,

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

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

“Lift up your eyes and look about you:

All assemble and come to you;

your sons come from afar,

and your daughters are carried on the hip.

Then you will look and be radiant,

your heart will throb and swell with joy;

the wealth on the seas will be brought to you,

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

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

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

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

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

What Epiphany Means for Us

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

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

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

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

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

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.


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

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

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

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

December 13, 2022

Signs of the Son (Matthew 11:2–11; Psalm 146:5–10; Isaiah 35:1–10)

Message preached at Mt. View Presbyterian Church December 11, 2022, Third Sunday in Advent, based on passages from the Revised Common Lectionary for that day.

How many of you remember the 1971 hit song “Signs” by the Five Man Electric Band? “Sign, Sign, everywhere a sign, blockin’ out the scenery, breakin’ my mind. Do this; don’t do that. Can’t you read the sign.” The song came out at the tail end of the Hippie movement, questioning authority and flaunting rules that seemed to exclude those who weren’t socially acceptable in the eyes of those who had power.

The Bible only ever speaks of two such “signs” associated with Jesus: One sign read, “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews,” and it was hung on the cross with Jesus. The other sign was a seal on the stone covering the entrance to his tomb (Matthew 27:66), indicating that Rome had authorized it and secured it. The first sign was accurate, even if the Romans only intended it to indicate the accusation against Jesus for which he was crucified. The second sign turned out to be of no consequence, because no one could keep the Son of God from rising from the dead and sealed in a tomb.

Of course, the other signs associated with Jesus in the Scriptures were not carved into wood, embossed on a wax seal, or chiseled into stone. They were the kinds of grandiose signs that only God and his son could “write” both in people and in nature. These were the signs that the prophets had written about long ago of what to expect when the Messiah would come.

The reading from Psalms (146:5–10) today speaks of some of those signs:

Upholding the cause of the oppressedForgiving the woman caught in the act of adultery when the male was nowhere to be found (John 7:53–8:11)
Giving food to the hungryFeeding the 5,000 and 4,000 (Luke 9:10–17 & par.; Mark 8:1–13 & par.)
Setting the prisoners freeAt Jesus’s crucifixion, the dead came out of their tombs in Jerusalem (Matthew 27:52–53)
Giving sight to the blindHealing many who were blind (Luke 7:21–23)

Isaiah 35:1–10 gives us more insight into what the OT prophets were expecting from the Messiah, some of it overlapping with the Psalm passage above:

The desert and the parched land will be glad;

the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.

Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom;

it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.

The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,

the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;

they will see the glory of the Lord,

the splendor of our God.

Strengthen the feeble hands,

steady the knees that give way;

say to those with fearful hearts,

“Be strong, do not fear;

your God will come,

he will come with vengeance;

with divine retribution

he will come to save you.”

Then will the eyes of the blind be opened

and the ears of the deaf unstopped.

Then will the lame leap like a deer,

and the mute tongue shout for joy.

Water will gush forth in the wilderness

and streams in the desert.

The burning sand will become a pool,

the thirsty ground bubbling springs.

In the haunts where jackals once lay,

grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.

And a highway will be there;

it will be called the Way of Holiness;

it will be for those who walk on that Way.

The unclean will not journey on it;

wicked fools will not go about on it.

No lion will be there,

nor any ravenous beast;

they will not be found there.

But only the redeemed will walk there,

10   and those the Lord has rescued will return.

They will enter Zion with singing;

everlasting joy will crown their heads.

Gladness and joy will overtake them,

and sorrow and sighing will flee away. [1]

Most of us know the various stories from the Old and New Testaments that go along with Isaiah’s description in the first 7 verses of chapter 35. Noah and his family were spared through the flood, which Peter would say is a “sign” or “type” of the NT concept of baptism in his first letter. The Passover and the parting of the Red Sea were the ultimate events that won the Jews their freedom from Egypt. In the church today, we celebrate that “Passover” with the signs of the bread and cup at communion. Moses drew water from the rock for the Jews in the desert, and Jesus told the woman at the well (John 4) that he had water that would permanently end her thirst. Elisha raised a Shunamite widow’s son, and Jesus brought forth Lazarus from the tomb after four days. Let’s not forget the resurrection, either!

In vs 8 of the passage from Isaiah, the prophet mentions a highway called “The Way of Holiness.” In those times, some religions had special paved roads between temples only for those who were faithful. Essentially what this is saying is that God will clear out all obstacles that might keep us from heaven. No longer would it depend on legalistic rules or strict adherence to the Law of Moses. Jesus himself would be the Way, and that is in fact what he calls himself in John 14, “The Way, the Truth, and the Life,” and the believers early on in Acts are said to be following “The Way.”

So as we turn to our Gospel passage today from Matthew 11, let’s look at what’s been going in Jesus’s ministry to this point. In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus spends three chapters delivering the Sermon on the Mount. Then the next two chapters after that contain several stories of Jesus healing people, calming a storm, and calling more disciples. In chapter 10, he solidifies his “leadership team” of the twelve disciples and gives them a long list of instructions before sending them out, as well as the authority to heal and cast out demons on their own. In chapter 11, Jesus’s ministry, mission, and popularity have grown significantly, and his cousin John the Baptizer wants to know if Jesus really is the coming Messiah. I think this is why Matthew has organized his Gospel the way he did, because Jesus can point to his teaching and the miracles he’s been doing and others are doing in his name as “signs” that he is indeed the Messiah. Jesus always seems somewhat reluctant to admit that outright; he simply indicates that his work speaks for itself. As Muhammed Ali once said, “It’s not bragging if you can back it up.”

After Jesus sends John’s disciples away with the information they needed, he turns toward the crowd and their attention to John the Baptizer. He asks them about who they came out to see when John was preaching in the wilderness. The bottom line was, they had come out to see a prophet, because there hadn’t been a prophet in Israel for over 400 years. With this, Jesus confirms yet another “sign” for the crowd, the sign of John’s ministry, by applying the words of Malachi 3:1 to John: the messenger who goes ahead of Jesus announcing his arrival. By doing so, this adds another layer of fulfilled prophecy to what Matthew already applied to him: not only does Jesus indicate he’s fulfilled prophecies about his work and ministry, but now he’s saying he’s fulfilled prophecies about what others would be saying about him.

The Pharisees and Sadducees should have recognized the signs. They, after all, were the primary repository of all Jewish written and oral tradition when it came to the Scriptures and history. But in Matthew 16, Jesus scolds them for being able to interpret weather signs, but not the “signs of the times” that pointed to Jesus. In Matthew 24, we get the fuller picture of what that “end time” might look like. Wars and rumors of war; famines and earthquakes; persecution and death; false prophets; the increase of wickedness; and every other evil at work to spiral us down the drain.

Christians throughout the ages have found reason to speculate they were each living in the time of the end and that they would see the return of the Messiah. I can remember in the late 70s and early 80s when I first began to understand that Jesus was coming again and the various things they were saying about the world we live in. Talk of supercomputers, even as the home computer was just starting to enter the market, that would be able to read the mark of the beast on your forehead or hand to determine if you could buy or sell. The irony is, the talk in the 70s and 80s about what some of these things might look like sound very much like our modern day smart phones. But don’t go chucking your cell phones through the stained glass here: They’re not the antichrist. But they are tools that can be used for both good and evil; we’re called to make sure they don’t get used or abused for evil purposes. It’s a little scary to think they’re real-time history books of our own lives, so let’s make sure we’re writing a good history.

Two weeks ago, we learned that no generation of God’s people has ever lived that didn’t have the hope of a coming Messiah. Today we’ve seen that the signs of that coming Messiah show up in so many places in the Old Testament. Doesn’t it make sense then that God has been revealing signs of Jesus’s second coming throughout history since his crucifixion and resurrection? Jesus does imply that we should be able to recognize the signs of the times, so they must be out there, right? But as technology has gradually taken over our lives and our culture has sadly grown more biblically illiterate, we’ve tended to lose the sensitivities we once had as a human race to see these “big picture” signs that God is still at work to bring his eternal kingdom to those of us who believe.

God has been revealing signs of Jesus’s second coming throughout history since his crucifixion and resurrection

I think most of us are savvy enough to distinguish what these “signs” of Jesus’s second coming look like. Matthew 24 has an extensive list, and some of the things on that list are not much different now than what they were in Jesus’s day. They’re not limited to a particular political viewpoint or cultural perspective. After all, we’ve ALL sinned and fallen short of God’s glory; but thanks be to God for his grace, forgiveness, and mercy that will protect those who put their trust in him in the last days.

So amidst the hustle and bustle of the final two weeks of the Christmas season, take some time to reflect on the signs of the Son: those that show he is the Messiah, and those that suggest he may be coming soon. Rejoice that we have a Savior who’s sent his Spirit to encourage and embolden us. Be alert, be aware; prepare yourselves and be ready. That day may be closer than you think.


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

December 5, 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Lord says to my lord:

“Sit at my right hand

until I make your enemies

a footstool for your feet.”

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

“Rule in the midst of your enemies!”

Your troops will be willing

on your day of battle.

Arrayed in holy splendor,

your young men will come to you

like dew from the morning’s womb. j

The Lord has sworn

and will not change his mind:

“You are a priest forever,

in the order of Melchizedek.”

The Lord is at your right hand;

he will crush kings on the day of his wrath.

He will judge the nations, heaping up the dead

and crushing the rulers of the whole earth.

He will drink from a brook along the way,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When day is night,

Darkness is honored as light

And wrong is deemed as right.

When no one is shocked

That God is mocked

And our foundations are rocked.

When war is peace

And the greedy feast

On the lies of men

Who ignore the Ten

Commandments meant to bring us life

So our lot is only pain and strife.

When the tools of power

Are the delicate flowers

Who are pawns in a game

That has no shame.

“When wasteful war shall statues overturn,

And broils root out the work of masonry,

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

The living record of your memory.”[2]

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


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

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

August 10, 2022

Having a Heavenly Head: Colossians 3

Listen to “Having a Heavenly Head”

Sermon preached at Mt. View Presbyterian Church July 31, 2022. Lightly edited for publication.

Probably a lot of people were asking each other this past week, “What would you do with a billion dollars?” With one of the largest jackpots ever, who could blame us for asking, right? If I had won it, I’d probably quit my job, go back to school to get my PhD, and spend the rest of my days preaching and writing. I’d also build, or hire someone to build, a really great model train layout so I’d have something entertaining for myself. And of course, my wife and I would travel to the historic sites of the Bible and other great places in the world.

But as Christians, of course, we’d have to be careful that our wishful thinking about a billion dollars doesn’t turn into outright greed. There’s nothing wrong with wealth in and of itself. But perhaps we should ask ourselves a different question if we have any thoughts about buying that longshot ticket to fortune: “What would a billion dollars do to me?”

Jesus addressed that issue with his followers and disciples in several different ways: “What good is it if for someone to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit their very soul?” (Luke 9:25). In our Gospel reading this morning (Luke 12:13–21), Jesus said to the rich fool, “Life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.” Jesus told the pharisees, “You cannot serve both God and Money” (Luke 16:13). He also told a parable about a man who was forgiven thousands of dollars’ worth of debt, but then couldn’t even offer that same forgiveness to someone who owed him a couple hundred dollars (Matthew 18:21–35).

I’ll tell you how I’d answer the question, “What would a billion dollars do to me?” because I’ve thought about it quite a bit, and some of the answers I don’t like. For starters, I think I’d be a little paranoid about people doing all kinds of crazy things to get a piece of the pie. Like claiming to have injured themselves by slipping on the ice in front of my house…in August…when the projected high is over 90 degrees for the next two weeks. I have a mindset that God has me where he wants me, and if I’d win that much money, I might not be doing what God wants me to do anymore. That actually scares me a little. But then again, God can redirect me at any moment he chooses, jackpot or not. I’m not sure I’d tell my kids, either. I want them to know what it’s like to have a career and work for the things that are important to them. That builds character, personality, integrity, and wisdom. I turn 60 in a few months, so I’m thinking more and more about retirement and less and less about working!

But alas, some lucky person in Des Plaines, IL, purchased the winning ticket, so I won’t have to wrestle with that question any time soon, or probably ever. It’s probably a good thing too, because in today’s passage, Colossians 3, Paul warns us about the dangers of greed and inappropriate desires, not to mention a host of other sins and concerning behaviors.

Now to refresh your memories, last week we looked at chapter 2 and how we have fullness and a foundation in Christ that helps us to stand strong in our faith. Paul also used the imagery of baptism to show us how we have been saved from eternal death through the power of Christ’s resurrection that baptism represents. This is where Paul picks up the discussion in chapter 3.

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.[1]

I want to stop there because these four verses are intended to let us know what our standing with Christ is, and I want to break that down a little bit.

I mentioned last week that Colossians and Ephesians have numerous parallel themes. The first verse in Colossians 3 sounds very much like Ephesians 2:6: “And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus.” Paul goes on to say in Ephesians 3:6 that we are “sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus.” In a spiritual sense, then we can live and act with the authority of Christ. That doesn’t mean we’re bossing others around, but it does mean we have the spiritual authority to speak against the evil that Satan tries to throw our way.

When talking about spiritual warfare in Ephesians 6, Paul says we have the full armor of God so we can stand against the devil’s schemes. And that armor isn’t just “standard issue” that any soldier would get. If you look up the Old Testament references to the armor Paul describes in Ephesians 6, you’ll find that in every case, it refers to armor that God himself figuratively wears. We have divine protection in Christ. And corporately, as a congregation, Paul says in Ephesians 1 that we have every spiritual blessing in Christ. How cool is that!

Colossians 3:3 lets us know we’re protected from Satan’s reach by being “hidden with Christ.” This doesn’t mean that we’ll never be tempted or never have bad things happen to us, but that we can have confidence that Christ will see us through whatever may come our way. And at the consummation of his kingdom, we know that we will appear with Christ in glory ready to embark on our eternal journey in heaven.

But until such time as we depart from this mortal life, Paul warns us about several sins and behaviors that tend to lead us into temptation and sin.

Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. Because of these, the wrath of God is coming. You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived. But now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices 10 and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator. 11 Here there is no Gentile or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all.

This is probably one of the most comprehensive lists in the NT of bad behavior and stinkin’ thinkin’. In Colossians 2:11, Paul says “Your whole self ruled by the flesh was put off when you were circumcised by Christ.” In Ephesians 4:22, Paul says something similar: “22 You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires.”

Now all sin is equal in God’s eyes, so I don’t think the fact that we seem to have two lists here (vss. 5 and 8) can be used to imply some sort of ranking of sins from worst to not-so-bad. Paul seems to suggest in vs. 5 that the sins listed there have to do with our earthly nature, our “body of flesh” as Paul put it in the previous chapter. They also seem to be a little more aligned directly with the Ten Commandments, especially when he equates greed with idolatry. He also specifically says after that list that it is these things that bring on the wrath of God. He seems especially concerned about these, because those sins were apparently once a way of life for the Colossians.

The second list in vs. 8 seems to be more about behaviors that are not related to our bodies of flesh but rather our minds or our learned behaviors that dishonor God and his kingdom. For example, on anger, Paul says in Ephesians 4:26–27: “26 Get angry but do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, 27 and do not give the devil a foothold.” In other words, it’s not a sin to get angry; that’s a natural response we have to certain situations. Our modern English translations don’t translate the first part of 26 as a command, but that’s what it is in NT Greek text and the Greek translation of the Hebrew text of Psalm 4:4. It warns us about dealing with our anger quickly and not “sleeping on it,” as that could give the devil an “in” to make your life miserable. Unresolved anger and grudges can eat away at our souls.

And note that Paul in vs. 9 especially highlights not lying to each other and ties that in with the fact that we’ve put off the old self and put on the new self. Lying, along with all the other sins and bad behavior listed here, are not consistent with a new or a renewed life in Christ. We’re learning how to live, love, and act as Jesus would have, because we’ve been transformed into a new creation in the image of Christ.

In a world that spends a lot of energy looking at diversity, verse 11 becomes all the more important. God doesn’t want us looking at people from a worldly point of view or according to their worldly, innate characteristics. Barbarians were those who didn’t speak Greek and lived primarily in northern and central parts of Europe. Scythians lived north of the Black Sea, in what is now modern-day Ukraine. Both were considered to be quite primitive, and the Scythians were considered especially brutal, little more than wild animals. It’s interesting they’re mentioned here, because their civilization had been overthrown by around 200 BC. Survivors of that culture had evidently migrated south across or around the Black Sea into Asia Minor and especially the area around Colossae. Knowing that, one has to wonder if some of the behaviors described in the previous verses may have been from a remnant of the Scythian peoples as they were assimilated into the culture of Asia Minor.

The only thing that matters, then, is whether we have Christ, who is all in all, and are living according to his standards.

Now it’s not enough just to get rid of the old. It’s important to replace our bad behaviors and stinkin’ thinkin’ with a renewed lifestyle and mindset. In Luke 11:24–26, Jesus gives us this teaching:

24 “When an impure spirit comes out of a person, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, ‘I will return to the house I left.’ 25 When it arrives, it finds the house swept clean and put in order. 26 Then it goes and takes seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that person is worse than the first.”

If we don’t replace the bad stuff with something positive, we run the danger of letting the bad stuff come in again, and potentially make things much worse for us than before. That’s where Colossians 3:12–17 comes in. Paul doesn’t leave us hanging. He gives us a corresponding list of the good behaviors and the mindset we need to lead a successful Christian life.

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

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

That phrase “God’s chosen people” in vs. 12 is not just a nice sentiment or a randomly chosen designation. That’s the same phrase Peter uses in his first letter, chapter 2, verse 9. Peter’s first epistle shares a number of common themes with Ephesians and Colossians as well. “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.” This goes right back to the authority Paul says we have because we’re raised up with Christ and seated with him. We’re “being built into a spiritual house” as the body of Christ, “offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God” (1 Peter 2:5).

The list of good stuff sounds very much like the fruit of the Spirit from Galatians. And notice how he puts it: he wants us to “clothe” ourselves in all these good things. This is a direct verbal contrast to our passage last week where he speaks of “putting off” the old self. I think we all know what the virtues listed are, so we don’t need to dive too deeply into that. I will say something about “kindness,” though. There does seem to be a slight difference between being “nice” and being “kind.” A nice person might not want to confront an issue because they don’t want to upset someone, whereas a kind person would confront an issue and give the other person a chance to do better.

I’ll take a recent example from my own life. We had some new siding put on the north side of our house in April, and it didn’t get painted until June. I was looking at the paint job when it was done, and noticed it was patchy; some places either didn’t have a second coat or perhaps they had two batches with a slightly different tint. As I started to look closer at the siding job, I began to notice there were gaps at the seams of the horizontal planks that were not acceptable. It was wavy and uneven. And to boot, some of the nails were already starting to pop through the siding leaving noticeable holes. Basically that would have left me with the same problem I was trying to fix.

If I had decided to be “nice,” I might have said, “Oh well, they did their best, I guess I’ll have to live with it,” and spend thousands more a few years down the road to fix the same problems all over again. But the “kind” thing to do in my mind was to let the company know and give them a chance to make it right. That may be more painful for all involved, especially for the siding company financially, but in the end we’re both better off knowing it’s a job well done.

The point is, these virtues aren’t intended to make us milquetoast. It takes a certain strength of character and a good deal of self-control to be gentle and patient in the face of life’s challenges. It takes courage to bear with each other through the tough times and forgive one another when we’ve been hurt. Even as Jesus was hanging on the cross, he said, “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.”

And just like 1 Corinthians 13, the greatest virtue of all to put on is love. Love covers over a multitude of sin, as Peter says.

And not only are we called to put on new behaviors, but a new mindset as well. “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts.” What does that look like? That may be different for each one of us. When we’re ruled by the love and peace of Christ, we are bold evangelists for the good news. Unbelievers will be more inclined to listen to us if our actions are consistent with what we profess to believe about Christ. And I’m sure many of you have heard the adage, “I may not remember what someone said to me, but I do remember how they made me feel.” If we act and speak in the name of the Lord Jesus, the world will see that and perhaps share in giving glory and thanks to God.

So as we go from here today, let’s remember that not only do we have fullness in Christ, but that he’s empowered and equipped us to live lives holy and pleasing to him. Amen.


[1] The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan. Note that I did not include the comma after “is” as the NIV (2011) version and other versions have it in 3:1. The Greek text appears to be periphrastic, with four words separating ἐστιν and καθήμενος. The NIV and other versions presume that οὗ ὁ Χριστός ἐστιν modifies ἄνω. But this makes no sense, since the rest of the sentence doesn’t flow neatly after that. The periphrastic makes the most sense here, because Christ is seated at the right hand of God. It does NOT refer to Paul’s audience, since he addresses his audience in the plural, and the participle is singular. (For comparison, see Ephesians 2:6, where Paul says we are “seated with Christ in the heavenly realms.”) The comma only serves to make this poor English syntax.

May 19, 2021

What Makes God Weep?

Sermon preached by Scott Stocking, Wheeler Grove Rural Church, January 17, 2021. This was the first Sunday the church was open after COVID.

Introduction

This past year has certainly been a challenging one for the world. Many of us know people affected by COVID, whether testing positive without any more symptoms than a few sniffles, to those who unfortunately lost loved ones or their own lives to the disease. My wife works in a skilled nursing facility in Omaha as an occupational therapist, and had to put on her “protective armor” to work with residents who tested positive for the disease.

Jill and I also have two friends who went to death’s door with the disease, but have or are making what seems to be full recovery. One friend’s wife had actually gone to talk to the funeral home before he rebounded. Another friend, just in that last few weeks, had been on a ventilator. Those who go on a ventilator have a 10% chance of survival. He eventually got off the ventilator and beat the odds, and at last report, he was doing quite well in rehab, just having his trach removed and talking up a storm with his family members.

It’s been an eye-opening experience for me, as I’ve never had two friends in one year come this close to death, and it reminds me both of how fragile life can be, and also how precious life is. In Jesus’s day, life was considered cheap. The philosopher Aristotle said, in so many words, you were born to either be an elite-class ruler or part of the masses of the lower-class ruled. There really wasn’t much of what we call the “middle class” in that day and age, socially or economically.

In the passage we’re looking at today, we see Jesus’s countercultural attitude toward life, at least countercultural in his day and age. 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. Even though “all the fullness of the Deity dwells within him,” he is still fully human as well, so much so that the Gospel writers record Jesus using the title “Son of Man” for himself.

The story starts at the beginning of chapter 11 when Jesus learns that 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 under Jesus’s delay, but only because he knows “this sickness will not end in death,” but “is for God’s glory.” He eventually says cryptically a few verses later that “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep,” but the apostles don’t pick up on the subtle reference. Jesus must tell them plainly a few verses later that “Lazarus is dead.”

Now it should not surprise us that Type A Martha, the control freak of the two sisters, is the one to go out and meet Jesus at the gate. 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, that 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.” Does that statement represent genuine concern, or is it more like a backhanded control freak statement? “I’ve waited four days for you to get here, Jesus, so you owe me big time!”

But Martha does prove 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 to him to (almost-) sacrifice 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.”

So 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, as my opening illustration revealed. So 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 11:32–33a.

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 11:33-35

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 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.” In the original language of the Scripture, that word is perhaps the strongest expression of “negative” emotion one could have. In Matthew 9:30, Jesus “sternly warned” the blind man not to say who healed him. That would have been akin to Jesus saying something like, “Don’t you dare, in a million years, tell anyone who did this to you.” At Jesus’s anointing in Bethany, where the prostitute broke an alabaster jar over Jesus’s head and let the perfume run down him, we’re told that those present (except for Jesus) “rebuked her sharply,” probably even to the extent of cursing her or reminding her in no uncertain terms about her profession.

Some commentators here go as far as suggesting that Jesus may have “snorted” (their word, not mine) here. 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, as he’s called in 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. John has already hinted to us that that is going to happen in the story, with Jesus’s “I am” statement and Martha’s statement. Keep in mind that John, in his short epistles toward the end of the NT, is fighting against Gnosticism, a belief that nothing done in the body matters at all for eternal salvation. When John says, “Jesus wept,” he’s acknowledging that God considers human life precious and valuable; that the body does matter for our earthly existence. That’s why “Jesus wept” is at the center of this whole story. 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 that Jesus could have kept him from dying. “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

Read John 11:38–40

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. So 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

Now when I set out to write this sermon, I had intended to do the three shortest verses in the NT and tie them together in a neat little package. But the more I got into, the more the Spirit led me down the road I followed today, focusing on “Jesus wept.” One of the three shortest verses is “Pray continually,” or more literally, “pray without ceasing.” Jesus offers his prayer here. He doesn’t need to do this, because he knows God is always listening to him. But as he’s said all along in this story, his goal is to make sure God is glorified. He wants to leave no doubt in anyone’s mind that what is about to happen is not some magic trick or sleight of hand. This is God-power all the way, the “incomparably great [resurrection] power for us who believe,” as Paul tells the Ephesians.

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”?

The third short verse precedes “pray continually” in 1 Thessalonians 5: “Rejoice always.” In the last part of v. 44, Jesus loses all the tension he’s been feeling to this point. 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?

In the ancient world, at and before the time of Christ, there were two practices that absolutely cheapened life. One of them was known as exposure. At that time, if you gave birth to a child you didn’t want, or the child was conceived in, shall we say, ill repute, it was legal, and in certain situation expected of you, to expose that infant to the elements and let the Fates decide what would become of the child. As Christianity took hold, Christians began to rescue these innocents. As Christianity grew and the concept that all life mattered began to take hold culturally, Constantine eventually outlawed the practice all together in the Roman empire.

The second practice was, in certain Greek democracies where they did not have the concept of freedom of speech, the casting of the ostraca. Ostraca were simply pieces of clay pots on which the voters (usually only “citizens”) wrote the name of a person whom they thought was not worthy of participating in their society any longer. The person receiving the most votes was “ostracized,” or banished from the city-state democracy. As you might imagine, the ancients had their share of folks on all sides who spread lies and misinformation about political enemies in order to influence who got voted off the island, so to speak.

In this day and age when our country is so divided on so many issues, it’s important that we learn how to not only respect our differences, but understand why each of us believes what we believe. Jesus’s disciples were a diverse group, from a hated tax collector to the lowly fishermen. My prayer is that we see the value in each and every individual and in what they bring to the table for the good of our Lord and our country. Peace to you all, and thank you for letting me share with you today.

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.

My views are my own.

February 21, 2011

Mark 1: More on “For the Forgiveness of Sins”

February 20, 2011

 It seems odd that just a little more than 1/8th of the year is already gone, but I only just finished the first book of the NT. In fact, according to my reading plan, I will be in the Gospels until almost the end of June, and then I won’t be done with Acts until the middle of August. Some of you have sent some special requests, and I will address those as I’m able. School kicks into full gear this week for me. I’m teaching two online classes now, followed by one online class after that.

 (Just in case you missed it, I had a bonus blog entry last Thursday on the “sleeping saints.” Please check it out when you have time.)

 I spent the last two days poring over Mark 1. One of the first things I noticed is how, when Mark begins the story with Jesus’ immersion by John the Immersing One ([ὁ] βαπτίζων, ho baptizōn, a participle verb form), he (through divine inspiration???) uses some of the very language that Matthew used at the end of his story with Jesus.

 Last week’s entry highlighted the phrase εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν (eis aphesin hamartiōn ‘into the forgiveness of sins’) and its use in both Matthew 26:28 in connection with the blood of Jesus and Acts 2:38 in connection with repenting and being immersed. Peter did not pull that connection out of his exegetical magic hat.

 Mark 1:4 uses the same phrase in connection with John’s immersion ministry. Mark says that John was “preaching an immersion of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” In the next verse, Mark says that people were coming to John to be immersed in the Jordan “confessing their sins.” Then in verse 8, Mark makes a statement that has been one of the sources of the debate surrounding the efficacy and signification of immersion. John the Immersing One says, “I am immersing you in water, but he [Jesus] will immerse you in the Holy Spirit.”

I use the word “but” there, because that is how most English translations render it. But this “but” (δε de in Greek) is considered to be a “weak” conjunction. It is not as powerful as καί (kai ‘and’, ‘also’), but when it can be used as a disjunctive, it is not as powerful as ἀλλά (alla ‘but’). The latter usually indicates a complete or emphatic break. But δε is often used to connect actions that happen in sequence. The primary example of this is Matthew’s use of  δε in his opening genealogy: “Abraham was the father of Isaac; then Isaac was the father of Jacob” and so on.

So when Mark records John using δε with respect to the signification of how Jesus will “immerse” us, he is not saying that his own “baptism of repentance” will be null and void once Jesus starts immersing. In some respects, John could be making a play on words here. But John (and Mark) could also be looking forward to Acts 2:38. (We shouldn’t ignore the fact that Peter and Mark were close companions in the early days of the church, so there is most likely some of that influence represented here, but Luke’s objectivity in Acts makes any possibility of collusion for Mark to redact John’s words to support Peter’s message or to match Matthew’s wording unlikely.)

The bottom-line translation or interpretation here is this: John says, “I am immersing you in water, then he [Jesus, when he immerses you] will immerse you in the Holy Spirit.” John 4:1–2 indicates that Jesus’ disciples continued John’s immersion ministry, although Jesus himself apparently never immersed anyone in water. Additionally, John indicates later in his Gospel that Jesus will send the Holy Spirit after his death, so Mark’s words indeed do look forward to Peter’s declaration in Acts 2:38.

Other notes on Mark 1.

The word εὐθὺς (euthys ‘immediately’) occurs 11 times in chapter 1 and 41 times in the entire Gospel. One of the early lessons I learned in seminary was the urgency with which Mark presented the good news: Jesus couldn’t wait to get the word out.

Jesus casts out (ἐκβαλλω ekballō) many demons in Mark 1. But what I found interesting is that this same word describes what the Holy Spirit did to Jesus when he “sent him out” into the wilderness to be tempted (vs. 12). Mark also uses that word later in the chapter when Jesus “sent away” the cleansed leper and warned him not to speak. The point is that the word has diverse usage: it’s not only used to cast off evil things or entities. But it is a little stronger than simply using the more common words for “come” or “go.”

One last point regarding the cleansing of the leper: it is significant, I think, that the word for “cleanse” (καθαρίζω katharizō) is used rather than the word for “heal” (θεραπεύω therapeuō) in Mark 1:40-45. Healing would have only involved the physical or even emotional scars or wounds. But cleansing took healing to a whole new level. Jesus not only healed the leper, but he made the leper socially acceptable by removing the stigma of his uncleanness. (See Leviticus 14:1–32 where Moses describes the procedure for making an offering for being cleansed of leprosy.)

As we go about our respective ministries, may we offer that same cleansing and acceptance to those who need the restorative power of the good news of Jesus.

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