Sunday Morning Greek Blog

March 4, 2023

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

Filed under: Biblical Studies,Birth Stories,Christology,Christology,Chronology,Ecclesiology,Isaiah,Life of Christ,Luke Gospel of,Matthew Gospel of,New Testament,Old Testament,Passion,Temptation — Scott Stocking @ 10:14 pm
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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,

2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

3           and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

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

the oil of joy instead of mourning,

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

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

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

Conclusion (for now)

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

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

My opinions are my own.

Scott Stocking

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

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

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

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

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

December 5, 2022

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

Filed under: Biblical Studies,Birth Stories,Christology,Eschatology,Life of Christ,Matthew Gospel of,Passion,Prophet,Psalms — Scott Stocking @ 8:36 pm
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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:

1 The Lord says to my lord:

“Sit at my right hand

until I make your enemies

a footstool for your feet.”

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

“Rule in the midst of your enemies!”

3 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

4 The Lord has sworn

and will not change his mind:

“You are a priest forever,

in the order of Melchizedek.”

5 The Lord is at your right hand;

he will crush kings on the day of his wrath.

6 He will judge the nations, heaping up the dead

and crushing the rulers of the whole earth.

7 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.

April 10, 2022

The Day of the Donkey: Holy Week Events From the Perspective of the Prophesied Donkey

Filed under: Biblical Animals,Biblical Studies,Christology,Genesis,Greek,Hebrew,Isaiah,John Gospel of,Life of Christ,Luke Gospel of,Passion,Prophet,Zechariah — Scott Stocking @ 2:47 pm
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Press play to hear the message. I had forgotten to record this the day of the message, so I recorded it at home. My apologies for the cat chiming in.

Scripture quotations taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version® NIV®
Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™
Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Author’s Note: Dr. Wayne Shaw, my preaching professor at Lincoln Christian Seminary in late 1980s, had assigned as one of our textbooks Lake Wobegon Days by Garrison Keillor. He did this so that we as preachers would not just preach exegetical, point-by-point sermons all the time, but to learn how tell stories as well. Every once in a while, I will break from my normal preaching (and writing) style and do just that, tell a story. My message this morning (April 10, 2022) at Mt. View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, Nebraska, was a retelling of the triumphal entry and the events of Holy Week from the perspective of the donkey who carried Jesus into Jerusalem on what we now know as Palm Sunday. I hope you enjoy.

My name is Ḥamor (חֲמוֹר). A silly, almost embarrassing name, really. I mean, why couldn’t my parents just name me Hammer, like the great Judas “the Hammer” Maccabeus. That sounds so much cooler than “Ḥamor.” That guy knew how to take it to the enemy and gain Jewish independence 200 years ago. But I digress.

I said my name is almost embarrassing. In fact, it really is quite embarrassing unless you know the history of my ancestors and how they’ve played an important role in the spiritual history of my people. Wait, what? You say you don’t know what the name Ḥamor means? Ohhh, that’s right, most of you probably don’t speak Hebrew, do you. Well, this is embarrassing then, because in your language, my name really doesn’t have a good reputation at all. In the language of the Romans, Latin, I’m known as Equus asinus (AH see noose). The Greeks would call me ὄνος (onos). That came over into the King James Version of the Bible as, well, uh—this is so embarrassing—(whisper) “ass.” Whew, there, I said it. Let me say it again (with confidence): “I am an ass.” Feels good to get that out. Yes, I say it proudly: I am a donkey! Go ahead, get it out of your system. Laugh if you want, “heehaw” and all that. I’m used to it. But be careful: I’m not just any donkey. I am THE donkey. Yep, I’m the one the prophets talked about as far back as the time of Jacob and his sons in Egypt. I’m the one the Messiah rode into Jerusalem last week.

Now you may think I’m just a dumb…donkey, a beast of burden to carry your stuff around and pull your plows. But what you don’t know is that, just like every Hebrew mother thought her son would be the Messiah, every donkey mom thought her little colt would be the one who’d fulfill the donkey prophecies in what you call the Old Testament. What? You’re not familiar with those prophecies? Well, we donkeys are taught them from the time we’re born. I guess if you’re not a donkey, it might be hard to appreciate the stories about donkeys. But it really is a fascinating story, and I hope by the end, you’ll have a new appreciation of donkeys, and maybe you’ll stop using that other word as a bad word, because I’m proud of our history and heritage.

Before we get too far into those stories, let me give you a little history of donkeys, especially as they relate to this part of the world. We donkeys have a bit of a mixed reputation throughout history. Let me start with the bad news first: some Christian traditions later on will associate us with absurdity, obstinacy, and slothfulness, and at some point, a red donkey becomes the symbol of Satan. I really don’t know how we got connected with that evil accuser, but I do admit that we can sometimes be a bit stubborn and slow starters. Plato called us “perverse” for whatever reason, and another Roman writer said we were the meanest of all animals. Not sure where he got that one from. Maybe he was thinking of our half-breed cousins, the mules.

But the good news is, there were plenty of cultures that had very high opinions of donkeys, so much so that they were always included in royal ceremonies. The Ugarits have artwork showing their gods riding donkeys, while the Muslims would call some of their heroes “donkey-riders.” One ancient Christian tale (Vita Sanctae Pelagiae Meretricis) even suggests that a woman riding on a donkey represents the height of beauty. Generally speaking, if someone with a lot of power and clout was riding a donkey, it usually meant that they were coming in peace.[1]

As far as the Bible itself goes, however, we seem to get a pretty fair shake. It all started with Jacob when, on his deathbed, he was blessing all his children, and pronounced this regarding Judah (Genesis 49:8‒12):

      8 “Judah, your brothers will praise you;

         your hand will be on the neck of your enemies;

         your father’s sons will bow down to you.

      9 You are a lion’s cub, Judah;

         you return from the prey, my son.

         Like a lion he crouches and lies down,

         like a lioness—who dares to rouse him?

      10 The scepter will not depart from Judah,

         nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet,

         until he to whom it belongs shall come

         and the obedience of the nations shall be his.

      11 He will tether his donkey to a vine,

         his colt to the choicest branch;

         he will wash his garments in wine,

         his robes in the blood of grapes.

      12 His eyes will be darker than wine,

         his teeth whiter than milk.

All the Hebrews knew that the Messiah would come from the tribe of Judah based on this prophecy. And all the donkeys knew that this ruler, the Lion of Judah, would eventually choose one of us for the most important mission in history. It seems like God is saying that he’s already got a plan to put all the players in place for when this ruler comes, even though the Hebrews had never had a king to this point. But one thing we’ve never been able to figure out about that prophecy is the bit about washing his garments in wine and his robes in the blood of grapes. Seems like they’d come out sticky and disgusting if we did that. One day we’ll know, though, I guess, right?

It’s not really a prophecy, but there is that story about Balaam in Numbers when he got a little too eager to help Moab out against the Hebrews. Keep in mind that Balaam probably wasn’t a Hebrew, but just a pagan prophet for hire. When the mama donkey (אָתוֹן, ʾāṯôn) he was riding (yes, she was female!) saw the angel of the Lord trying to stop him three times, she stopped and got a beating each time from Balaam. When mama donkey had finally had enough of that, she became a mama bear and chewed Balaam’s…, I mean scolded Balaam for his misplaced eagerness. Wouldn’t you have loved to see Balaam’s face when that mama bear voice started reading the riot act to him? He must have been white as a ghost. Mama donkey saved our reputation that day. She’s definitely one of our heroes.

Then there was that time that David had his son Solomon ride David’s own mule (פִּרְדָּה, pirdā(h); in case you don’t know, a mule is a cross between a horse and a donkey) to name him as successor to his throne. That must have been quite a day of celebration, pomp, and circumstance. I wish I could have been there.

But the ultimate prophecy that impacts us donkeys is the one in Zechariah 9. All of us have to learn this one.

      9 Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!

         Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!

         See, your king comes to you,

         righteous and victorious,

         lowly and riding on a donkey,

         on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

      10 I will take away the chariots from Ephraim

         and the warhorses from Jerusalem,

         and the battle bow will be broken.

         He will proclaim peace to the nations.

         His rule will extend from sea to sea

         and from the River to the ends of the earth.

      11 As for you, because of the blood of my covenant with you,

         I will free your prisoners from the waterless pit.

      12 Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope;

         even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you.

      13 I will bend Judah as I bend my bow

         and fill it with Ephraim.

         I will rouse your sons, Zion,

         against your sons, Greece,

         and make you like a warrior’s sword.

Oh, how I love this prophecy, especially now, because I’m realizing I’m living in the midst of it. Verse 13 refers to Judas Maccabeus, you know, the Hammer guy I mentioned at the beginning of my story. He and his followers were able to overcome the Greek Seleucids and bring independence to Judah for a long time. It was from them that the Herod dynasty arose in Judah. They were okay at first, as most new rulers are, but they’re just sniveling little Roman puppets now. Nobody likes them. In fact, one of them tried to have the Messiah killed after he was born, and another one had John the Baptist beheaded. They’re just puppet kings; they’re not real kings, and they’re certainly not on the Messiah’s side. But, that was exactly the situation God needed to send the Messiah.

I’m pretty sure the current Herodian wouldn’t have ridden into town on a donkey. He’s too full of himself to go near us donkeys. But about a week ago, we started to hear the buzz around Jerusalem: Jesus and his disciples were on their way. He’d already earned quite a reputation with his miracles and his teaching, and it was obvious he was doing something right because the religious rulers were having a really hard time accepting him. Our donkey spy network, if you want to call it that, had been hearing troubling conversations, even to the point of the religious rulers wanting to crucify the Messiah. We were scared and excited at the same time.

We had been noticing that the crowds coming to Jerusalem for Passover were a lot bigger than in recent years, so my person thought we ought to get a jump on the day last Sunday, even though my hometown of Bethphage was only a few miles away. My mom and I were tied up outside, waiting to get loaded up and leave, when these two guys who looked like they’d been traveling forever came up, scratched my nose, and started to untie me. Now you’d think my mom would have started braying and kicking up a storm when that happened, but instead, she gave them both a gentle nuzzle. My person came out and asked, “Why are you untying the colt?” The older of the two just smiled and said, “The Lord needs it.” That was good enough for my person. Mom gave me a knowing look and kind of nudged me, as if to say, “It’s okay. Go with them. It’s time.”

So they led me a little way toward Jerusalem, and who do think was at their camp waiting for me? It was Jesus!!! There were so many people around, I was a little scared, but I realized this must be the time that Zechariah and Jacob had talked about in their prophecies. People put their cloaks on me and on the road ahead of me, waved palm branches, and Jesus himself sat on me! What an honor! A whole crowd of people were so happy to see him and were shouting all kinds of praises to him. But I saw a couple grumpy Pharisees trying to get Jesus to quiet the crowd. Yeah, right. Good luck with that, Pharisees. I imagine Rome was getting pretty nervous as well.

Even though the crowd was cheering, as we got closer to Jerusalem, Jesus started crying and pronounced a sad, scary prophecy about the city. That kind of took me by surprise. Why was he so sad and so gloomy about Jerusalem when most everyone else seemed so excited and joyful?

Well, it didn’t take too long to find out. Our huge parade went into the city, and the first place we went, as you might imagine, was the Temple. I couldn’t go in, but Jesus was really upset at those who were taking advantage of the poor who were coming in for the Passover and overturned their tables and chased them out of the Temple courts. Something about making his father’s house a den of robbers. That just seemed like quite a turn of events at that point, and it seems to have set the stage for what happened the rest of the week.

Now I did stay in Jerusalem after that Temple incident, but I didn’t go everywhere Jesus went. However, I had begun to hear stories of Jesus confronting the Pharisees, prophesying against the Temple, and other stuff like that. When I did see Jesus, he was resolute, like a man on a mission who could not be deterred. On Thursday night, a few of the disciples loaded me up with some Passover food and we headed to a house in town. The meal was upstairs, so I had to stay outside. It was a quiet night because it was the Passover meal, so I was able to hear bits and pieces of the conversation coming through the windows. Something about washing their feet, body and blood, and even a betrayer. It wasn’t long after that conversation that I saw Judas running out of the house and headed toward the Temple.

After that is when things get a little confusing. Jesus and the rest of the disciples sang a hymn and came down from the meal. We all went to the Garden of Gethsemane, but by that time we were all getting pretty tired and the sun had set. I lay down there to try to sleep, and I heard Jesus say something to Peter and John about staying awake. All of the sudden, everyone started shouting, because Judas had come to the garden with soldiers. They were arresting Jesus!!! Things got really confusing then. I heard a couple swords drawn, someone got hurt but Jesus healed him, and then all the disciples scattered, forgetting about me.

I managed to follow Jesus back to Jerusalem without being too obvious and was just able to slip through the city gate before they closed it again. I heard someone say they were going to the high priest’s house. We got there, and there was quite a crowd for that late at night. I heard a lot of shouting and arguing coming from the house, and eventually Jesus came out, still tied up. It was weird. Right when he came out, a rooster crowed, and I could see Jesus was looking straight at Peter, who was in the crowd. Peter looked sad, but the crowd surged at that point, and I lost sight of him.

It’s hard for me to describe what happened the next day, because it was so gruesome and ugly and I’m still pretty shaken by it. The pharisees turned Jesus over to the Romans, who whipped him, then he was brought to Pilate, who wanted to release him. But the Pharisees were stirring up the crowd, shouting “Crucify him!” I couldn’t bear it anymore. I just wanted to go home. Here, I thought I was the donkey of the prophecies, yet the “king” was going to be crucified instead. As I was exiting the city, I saw three poles on a hill nearby. It looked like there were already several Roman soldiers there and a crowd gathering. Then I heard behind me a mob approaching. I went down the road a little bit where I could get off to the side and still watch the hill. In the midst of the mob, I saw Jesus, whipped, bleeding, struggling to carry the horizontal beam of the cross. Oh, wait, maybe that’s what the prophecy meant about his garments washed in wine. Eww (shudder). It couldn’t be. I watched the rest of that scene unfold in utter disbelief. I watched as they hung Jesus from the cross between two other criminals. I could see that Jesus was shouting something as best he could, but I couldn’t make it out. I saw a soldier poke him in the side. Then the sky went dark. Yeah, that seems to fit the way this day is going.

As I was watching all this, I remembered that along with the donkey prophecies, my parents had taught me an Isaiah passage as well: “He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities. The punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds, we are healed.” How could all that pain and suffering bring healing? Then I made the connection: I realized I have a cross on my back; most donkeys do. Could it be that God made us beasts of burden with a cross on our backs because one of us would one day bear the one who would be burdened with the sin of mankind on a cross? As much as I wanted to go home, my eyes and my soul were captivated by the horror of what I was seeing. I had to get closer. I watched as they took his limp body down from the cross. I could see the general direction they were headed, so I tried to get to where they seemed to be headed. I’m glad I did. When I got to the place where they would bury him, I watched as they took his body, wrapped in linen cloths, into the tomb, rolled the stone in front of it, and put the Roman seal on it. And then I saw two people I recognized: Mary and John. I went up and nudged them gently, and they recognized me. But it was getting close to sundown, and they had to get home before the Sabbath started. They tried to get me to come, but I put on my stubbornness and wouldn’t budge. I wanted to stay near the tomb.

As much as I wanted to go home, my eyes and my soul were captivated by the horror of what I was seeing. I had to get closer. I watched as they took his limp body down from the cross.

That Sabbath yesterday was the worst day of my young life. I was still in shock. I couldn’t even move, let alone eat. I just hid out in some nearby trees and kept guard as best I could. I dozed off and on all day (just like the Roman guards!), until I finally realized I had slept through most of the night. Just before daybreak on the morning after the Sabbath, I felt the ground shake and heard the Roman guards yelling as they ran away. Then I saw them at the tomb, two angels rolling the stone away! I saw Jesus come to the opening of the tomb. He looked straight at me, winked, and disappeared. Could I be dreaming?

Just then Jesus’s mother, Mary, and Mary Magdalene came running up to the tomb, only to find the stone rolled away. I hadn’t been dreaming! I wanted to approach them, but before they noticed me, the angels appeared to them and told them what had happened. It was true then, Jesus was alive! The women never saw me, but turned and ran back toward Jerusalem, presumably to tell the rest of the disciples.

After the women ran off, one of the angels looked at me and said, “Well done, faithful Ḥamor. You may return home.” I had done my part that the prophets had predicted so long ago. I was indeed THE donkey that gave the king a ride into Jerusalem, and now I knew just what kind of king he would be. I headed home to tell my mom, and I can’t wait to see what happens next.

[1] Ryken, Leland, Jim Wilhoit, Tremper Longman, Colin Duriez, Douglas Penney, and Daniel G. Reid. 2000. In Dictionary of Biblical Imagery, electronic ed., 215. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press.

May 27, 2012

Some Thoughts on the Trial of Jesus (Luke 22:67–70 and parallels)

Filed under: "I Am" Statements,Luke Gospel of,Mark Gospel of,Matthew Gospel of,New Testament,Passion — Scott Stocking @ 7:21 am

Something interesting struck me as I read Jesus’s response to the illegal council called to accuse him of blasphemy and condemn him to be crucified. Jesus tends to be a little tight lipped in the Gospel accounts of his Passion, so the words the Gospel writers attribute to Jesus are important for understanding why he responded the way he did when he did. Let me cite the relevant passages in a vertical parallel, all from the NIV (with the exception of the plural “you” modified in Luke):

Parallel Accounts of the Trial Statement

Matthew 26:62–64

62Then the high priest stood up and said to Jesus, “Are you not going to answer? What is this testimony that these men are bringing against you?” 63But Jesus remained silent. The high priest said to him, “I charge you under oath by the living God: Tell us if you are the Messiah, the Son of God.” 64“You [singular] have said so” (Σὺ εἶπας), Jesus replied. “But I say to all of you: From now on you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven.”

Mark 14:60–62

60Then the high priest stood up before them and asked Jesus, “Are you not going to answer? What is this testimony that these men are bringing against you?” 61But Jesus remained silent and gave no answer. Again the high priest asked him, “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?” 62“I am” (Ἐγώ εἰμι), said Jesus. “And you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven.”

Luke 22:67–70

67“If you are the Messiah,” they said, “tell us.” Jesus answered, “If I tell you, you will not believe me, 68and if I asked you, you would not answer. 69But from now on, the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of the mighty God.” 70They all asked, “Are you then the Son of God?” He replied, “Y’all say that I am” (Ὑμεῖς λέγετε ὅτι ἐγώ εἰμι).

John’s account of this meeting (John 18:19–24) is so different that it won’t be a factor in my comparison here, but I will return to it in a later post. Let me illustrate the key differences in the three Synoptic passages in Table 1:

Table 1: Parallel accounts of the “Son of Man” statements in the Gospel trials

Matthew 16:63–64

“Tell us if you are the Messiah…”

[follows]

“You (sg) have said”

[omits]

“Son of Man sitting…”

“coming in the clouds of heaven”

Mark 14:61–62

“Are you the Messiah…?”

[follows]

[omits]

“I am”

“Son of Man sitting…”

“coming in the clouds of heaven”

Luke 22:69–70

“Are you the Son of God?”

“Son of man will be seated…”

“You (pl) say that…

… I am”

[precedes]

[omits]

Explanation

Luke only has Jesus quoting Psalm 110:1 (109:1 LXX) about sitting at God’s right hand before saying “You say that I am.” Matthew and Mark both add Daniel 7:13, “coming in the clouds of heaven” (a clear reference to the Messianic portion of Daniel) after the Psalm 110:1 quotation, but they put those quotations after the “You say” (Matthew) or “I am” (Mark). The little bit about sitting at God’s right hand may seem perfectly innocuous to us, unless we, like the Jewish scribes, understand the full context of Psalm 110:1. The very next phrase after “Sit at my right hand” in that verse is “until I make your enemies your footstool.” Wow! Here we have the Pharisees accusing Jesus, and Jesus responding with a statement that essential signals his accusers are enemies of God! Not exactly a soft-spoken answer when you come to think about it. Add to that the quotation from Daniel, and Jesus is really putting the Sanhedrin in its place: By saying the Son of Man will come on the clouds, he is equating himself with the “Ancient of Days” in Daniel, leaving no doubt about his divine mandate and divine nature.

Add to that Mark and Luke’s account of Jesus using the phrase Ἐγώ εἰμι, which some in Jesus’s day (or even in the modern day) see as an intentional reference to God’s divine name in Exodus 3:14 (see discussion below), and we’ve got Jesus essentially giving the Sanhedrin the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Jesus proved it over and over again (in John’s account, Jesus chides the Sanhedrin for doing this in secret when he taught publicly everywhere he went), but the Pharisees have to say it as well, especially the high priest (see, for example, John 11:51).

One thing to keep in mind when examining the modern eclectic Greek New Testament: punctuation was added at a much later date. It didn’t exist in the autographs. Have you ever thought about why, after the Sanhedrin “asks” Jesus a question (in the NIV, anyway), Jesus treats the “question” like a regular statement? There is no “question” word that one might expect to find if the one asking the question expected a certain answer. Granted, not all questions need one of these special words to be understood as a question, but in the case of the Gospel writers, I would suggest that the phrase Σὺ εἶ ὁ Χριστὸς ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ εὐλογητοῦ be taken as a statement, not a question. This accomplishes two things in my mind if it is true:

  1. If John 11:51 has a broader application, then the high priest not only must prophesy about Jesus’s death, but he must also prophesy about his nature: The high priest prophesies that Jesus is the Son of Man; that means there is now another witness to Jesus’s true nature, but
  2. Without Jesus ever directly stating it in trial (with the possible exception of Mark, who may have a shortened version of Luke’s account), Jesus stealthily gets the Sanhedrin (or at least the high priest) to commit “blasphemy” by declaring Jesus to be the Son of Man. When Jesus says “You have said it,” he is in fact turning the tables on them and accusing them of very “blasphemy” they’re trying to pin on him! (I recognize there’s no real blasphemy here, because Jesus really is the Son of Man, but the Sanhedrin doesn’t want to see things that way.)

I think this latter point especially is fully in keeping with the nature of how Jesus responded to the religious rulers of his day. He always turned the tables on them to show them their erroneous thinking and oppressive religious “leadership,” if one can call it that. If Jesus had said outright the full phrase in their hearing, it would have been over and done, and the Sanhedrin would have been fully justified in their own minds in sentencing Jesus to death. Jesus was not wont to leave them with that kind of self-satisfaction. The reason the Sanhedrin gets so angry is precisely because Jesus has tricked them into committing the very “blasphemy” of which they are accusing him. Jesus had said that the demons believe he is the Son of Man, and they tremble. Here, the Sanhedrin apparently believes it as well, but instead of trembling in fear, they steel themselves against the possibility and (mis)use their authority to have Jesus arrested and eventually crucified.

Is Ἐγώ εἰμι a Direct Reference to Exodus 3:14?

As tempting as it is to always assume that when Jesus says Ἐγώ εἰμι, he is always referring to the divine name in Exodus 3:14, I have to reject that notion to be universally true in the Gospels. There are clearly times when Jesus uses the phrase simply to indicate his presence or his existence without the theological weight. Given the full statement in Luke that includes those words (and since I think Luke is on most things more thorough than Mark), I don’t think Jesus saying Ἐγώ εἰμι here has much theological weight. What seems to upset the Sanhedrin is Jesus’s quotation of Psalm 110:1 and Daniel 7:13 more than anything else. Of course, Jesus could have said it in isolation (as Mark has it recorded) to get the Sanhedrin’s dander up, to make them think that’s what he meant even though he didn’t. It’s a word play that’s not intended to deceive, but to drive home the point.

Conclusion

These parallel accounts in the Synoptic Gospels raise some interesting issues in my mind. I think Jesus remains consistent with his approach to the religious elite of his day by not giving them the satisfaction of thinking they are right. A more detailed treatment of John’s version of these events goes beyond the scope of this blog post, but as I’m reading through John again now, I’m already finding things in the earlier part of his Gospel that tie into that account, so you can be sure I will have another post on these events from John’s perspective.

Peace!

Scott Stocking

February 20, 2012

Judas’s Kiss (Matthew 26:48–49; Mark 14:45)

Filed under: Acts,Life of Christ,Luke Gospel of,Mark Gospel of,Matthew Gospel of,New Testament,Passion,Septuagint — Scott Stocking @ 2:43 pm

Introduction

Those of us who read the Scriptures with any regularity (and even with some irregularity) have noticed the phenomenon of selective attention. What I mean by this is, when you read a passage of Scripture you know you’ve read before, you notice something that speaks to your heart in such a way that you say, “Why didn’t I see that before.” That has happened to me quite often in reading the English translations of the Bible, even though English is my native tongue. You’d think I’d remember more than I do when I read Scripture. But now on my second time through the Greek New Testament (GNT), I am experiencing that same phenomenon. Of course, having that full year of experience has seasoned me to notice certain features of the text that the occasional reader of the GNT might not notice.

Matthew 26:48–49

The subject of this blog post is one such passage. Matthew 26:48–49 is part of the story of Judas betraying Jesus to the authorities. My discussion in this post centers around the nature of the “kiss” by which Judas identified Jesus to the authorities. Here is how the text reads in the NIV, with the Greek words translated “kiss” identified:

Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them: “The one I kiss [φιλήσω from φιλέω] is the man; arrest him.” Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed [κατεφίλησεν from καταφιλέω] him.

The “Kiss”

New Testament Usage

Some may think the different words used for “kiss” here represent merely a stylistic difference, but an examination of the second word, καταφιλέω, reveals an interesting nuance that is lost in translation but not in context. The word is used six times in the New Testament: once each by Matthew and Mark (14:45) in their respective betrayal pericopes; and four times by Luke—three in his Gospel (Luke 7:38, 45; 15:20) and once in Acts (20:37).

Luke mentions the φιλέω kiss in his passion story, but he never outright says that Judas kissed Jesus. But it is Luke’s use of καταφιλέω that reveals the important nuance in Matthew and Mark. Luke 7 is the story of the woman who washes Jesus feet with perfume, tears, and her hair. The kissing is portrayed as a repeated action that at the same time indicates a sort of “sorrowful joy.” She is both truly repentant and truly grateful for the forgiveness Jesus would proclaim to her. In vs. 45, Luke even contrasts the φιλέω kiss he should have received from Simon as a customary greeting with the woman’s repeated καταφιλέω kissing. So Luke was fully aware of the contrast between the two words, just as Matthew and Mark were.

In Luke 15, Jesus uses καταφιλέω of the father welcoming home the prodigal son. In Acts 20:37, Luke again uses the word to describe what happened when Paul departed from Miletus after saying farewell to the Ephesian elders. Paul is facing grave danger as he returns to Jerusalem, and many of his friends think they will never see him again. This is no peck on the cheek. Strong emotions always accompany this kind of “kiss.”

Old Testament Usage

The use of this word in the Septuagint (LXX) is no different. It describes the affection Laban showed his grandchildren when Jacob departed (Genesis 31:28, 32:1). It also describes Joseph’s reunion with his brothers in Egypt (Genesis 45:15). Naomi parted with Orpah with this kind of kiss, and the bond was so strong that Ruth insisted on returning to Bethlehem with Naomi (Ruth 1:9, 14). The word describes David’s friendship with Jonathan as well (1 Samuel 20:41). But lest I be misunderstood or misinterpreted, there is absolutely no sexual connotation in these farewell “kisses.” They reveal the very deep bond of friendship that the people experienced.

Judas’s Kiss: What It Means

So what does this all mean for Judas’s kiss? The fact that Matthew and Mark use καταφιλέω to describe Judas’s betrayal kiss reveals a couple things in my mind. First, Judas seems to have genuinely loved Jesus. I don’t think it’s fair to suggest he wasn’t genuine about the show of affection, especially given the desperation of his remorse after the fact. Second, because of that love, I have to wonder if Judas was trying to force Jesus’s hand by having him arrested. Judas wanted as much as anyone to throw off Roman rule, but Judas apparently didn’t like where things were headed. I think it is within the realm of reason to suggest that Judas thought by having Jesus arrested, Jesus’s followers would rise up rebellion against Rome. Or perhaps he even thought that Jesus would make a mighty show of divine power to overthrow Rome.

His actions do not strike me as those of a man who had a traitorous heart from the beginning. Rather they seem to be desperate measures by a disillusioned man who was trying to make one last attempt to have things go his way. When he failed miserably and realized he had condemned his friend to death rather initiating a new world order, he killed himself in an ultimate act of desperation.

Conclusion

How many times do you and I get disillusioned about the way God is working in our lives? I know I have done my share of complaining to God that he’s not doing things the way I think he should be doing them. Then in desperation, I do something in an attempt to force God’s hand and realize after the fact how foolish I really was. I need to work on developing that deep and abiding trust in God that makes me want to melt into his καταφιλέω affection for me, just as the prodigal experienced when he returned home.

Peace!

Scott Stocking

November 1, 2011

“Father, Forgive Them…” (Luke 23:34)

Filed under: Biblical Studies,Christology,Greek,Luke Gospel of,New Testament,Passion,Soteriology — Scott Stocking @ 5:32 pm
Tags: ,

A friend of mine asked me the following question on Facebook and gave me permission to post the question and my response (edited a bit) here.

Here’s a question for you, Scott. Was just reading Luke 23:34 where Jesus says, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.” Really? They didn’t know what they were doing? Then can’t we all be absolved on the same basis, that we don’t know what we are doing? Also, didn’t they know in some sense what they were doing? Didn’t they at least know they were murdering an innocent man? They knew they were having to “plot” against him . . . Just wondered.

Some observations:

  1. You are not alone in questioning this statement. It is in double brackets in the Greek text, which means it is of questionable authenticity but was retained given its prominent place in church history and liturgy. (In the UBS 3rd edition of the Greek New Testament, the statement has a C rating on a scale of A to D, with A representing the highest certainty that the original text is restored.) I could not find the statement in any of the other Gospels, so it appears to be unique to Luke.
  2. Who are the “them” he forgives? The immediate context seems to suggest they’re the soldiers, who were only following orders and didn’t have a clue about Jesus being the Son of God and Savior.
  3. John 11:49–52 seems to imply that the leaders really didn’t understand the full implication of what they were doing. Yes, they knew they were plotting, but John’s statement about Caiaphas’s unwitting prophecy seems to imply the Jewish leaders were more or less in the dark about who Jesus really was and is.
  4. We can offer forgiveness to anyone regardless of intent, motivation, etc. Jesus is not declaring that they are forgiven, but rather asking the Father to forgive them. “Ignorant” people sin all the time: ignorance is no excuse for sin (or civic lawbreaking for that matter), but it is not unforgivable. Great question!

[For those of you wondering when something from Thessalonians or Timothy is coming along, please be patient. I’m working on an update of my treatment of women in leadership from 1 Timothy 3 and surrounding contexts. It’s taken on a life of its own, it seems, and I keep learning new truths about the passage.]

Peace!

Scott Stocking

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