Sunday Morning Greek Blog

May 19, 2025

Communion as a Call to Action (John 13:31–35)

Filed under: Biblical Studies,Christology,Communion/Eucharist,Courage,Easter,Faith, Faithfulness,forgiveness,Hebrews,Immersion/Baptism,John Gospel of,Liturgical Calendar,Luke Gospel of,Mark Gospel of,Matthew Gospel of,Passion,Psalms — Scott Stocking @ 6:40 pm
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I preached this message May 18, 2025, at Mount View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE. Fifth Sunday after Easter, Year C.

I find it interesting that in the weeks after Easter, the gospel passages in the Lectionary are revisiting Jesus’s Holy Week events. That probably shouldn’t surprise us with John’s gospel, though, as the last half of his gospel deals with the events of Holy Week. One explanation for this, I think, is that Jesus taught his disciples so much in that last week, and much of it occurred, apparently, immediately after the “Last Supper.” Given what happened in the 24 hours that followed that last supper, I think it’s safe to say that the apostles probably didn’t remember too much of that teaching. It’s a good thing John wrote it down, then! This gives them the opportunity to revisit those precious final moments with Jesus and to review his teachings to see what they missed about his death and resurrection.

Since we’re going back to Holy Week, and especially since today’s passage comes after John’s unique account of the Last Supper, I think it’s worth it to take a look at his account, especially, and add in the details that Matthew, Mark, and Luke provide. At the beginning of John 13, we see that the meal is already in progress, but we don’t get the “ritual” language we’ve become accustomed to from the other three gospels.

There’s no “This is my body” or “This cup is the new covenant in my blood poured out for the forgiveness of sins” in John’s gospel. That’s not to say there’s a contradiction here in the storyline: John focuses on a more radical form of demonstrating the forgiveness that would come from the shed blood of the Messiah. He tells us that the Messiah himself washes the feet of ALL the disciples. When Jesus gets to Peter, we find out a little more about Jesus’s motivation for doing this: “Unless I wash you, you have not part with me.” Jesus turns this act of service into a living, “practical” memorial that his disciples would not soon forget. Not only has he said his blood would bring forgiveness; he touches each one of the disciples, even Judas, who he knows will sell him and out, and Peter the denier, to give them “muscle memory” of forgiveness.

Matthew, Mark, and Luke all say something about the bread and the cup. Matthew and Mark both say simply: “This is my body,” while Luke adds two extra phrases: “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19). Notice that none of the gospel writers ever say, “This is my body broken for you,” although the piece of unleavened bread in this part of the ceremony was the only one formally broken. The church through history almost naturally added in that bit about “broken for you” to parallel what happens to the bread. Note also the references to the cup in the three synoptic Gospel accounts have Jesus saying that the wine is “the new covenant in my blood” or “the blood of my covenant.” Matthew is the only one who connects the blood with the forgiveness of sins.

One thing that Jesus says in all three gospel accounts may get overlooked: “I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.”[1] Jesus here is looking far beyond his own time with this statement: he’s looking ahead to his second coming where we will share in the glorious feast of the Lamb with him in heaven. It’s also worth noting here that Jesus still considers what he’s drinking is “the fruit of the vine” and NOT blood at all.

But this also begs the question: what does Jesus mean when he says, “This IS my body” and “This IS the new covenant in my blood”? I think as Presbyterians we can agree there is not some mystical transubstantiation of the wine into Jesus’s blood. Nor is there a mystical transubstantiation of the bread into the flesh of Christ. But I also don’t think the cup and the bread are merely “symbols” either. I prefer to use the word “signify” to describe the elements because they do have significance for my faith.

In this way, communion is akin to baptism. What does Paul say about baptism in Romans 6:3? “Don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?”[2] Baptism signifies (there’s that word again) that we have come in contact with blood of Christ, which Matthew affirms is for the forgiveness of sins. That is our “initiation” rite, a marker or monument, if you will, that God has done something special in our lives and that we are set apart for something special. The water doesn’t become the blood of Christ when we’re baptized. But in a way that only God knows, the waters of baptism are infused with the power of spiritual cleansing and renewal.

Communion, then, is our regular connection with our baptism, because in communion, as we’ve said, we also encounter the blood of Christ, or what it signifies, in the cup at the communion table. The bread reminds us of the physical suffering Christ endured on the cross. But it also reminds us that we are all part of the body of Christ as well—that’s why we take it together, whether it’s monthly, weekly, or whenever we gather in his name. Out of all the different denominations out there, communion reminds us what we have in common: faith in Christ.

I’ve been studying what the Bible says about communion for quite a long time. It was the topic of one of my early blog posts. In my home church, we take it every Sunday, because that seems to be the practice of the early church in Acts. But my church also typically qualifies it when giving the communion meditation: “If you’re a believer in Christ, we invite you to participate.” There’s no official check for membership or a communicant’s card. Just a simple question to be answered on your honor. Some denominations or branches of mainline denominations require you to be a member of the church. Others may even suggest you’re committing heresy or blasphemy if you take communion in a church where you’re not a member.

The variety in how communion or the eucharist is handled in the modern church concerns me. Communion should be about what Jesus accomplished on the cross, not about your personal affiliation with a particular church. In that early blog article, A Truly Open Communion?, I asked the question this way:

If Jesus calls sinners to himself and eats with them; if Jesus broke bread at the Last Supper with a table full of betrayers and deserters; if Jesus can feed 5,000 men in addition to the women and children with just a few loaves of bread and some fish; why do many churches officially prohibit the Lord’s Table (communion, Eucharist) from those who are not professed Christ-followers, or worse, from those professed Christ-followers who are struggling with sin or divorce or other problems?

Should we really be denying or discouraging those who come to church looking for forgiveness and a connection to the body of Christ the very elements that Jesus uses to signify those things—the bread and the cup? Author John Mark Hicks says this in talking about communion as a “missional table”:

The table is a place where Jesus receives sinners and confronts the righteous; a place where Jesus extends grace to seekers but condemns the self-righteous. Jesus is willing to eat with sinners in order to invite them into the kingdom, but he points out the discontinuity between humanity’s tables…and the table in the kingdom of God.[3]

The implication here is that Jesus is in our midst in a special way, I think, not just because “two or three are gathered in his name,” but because we are doing this “in remembrance” of Jesus. The Old Testament concept of “remembering” is what is key here. In the Old Testament, when the writer says something like, “Then God remembered his promise to Abraham” or “Then God remembered his covenant with Israel,” this not God just calling a set of facts to mind. When God remembers like this, he also acts, and usually in a mighty way.

So when we remember, I believe it is also a call to action on our part, to be empowered by the presence of the Holy Spirit in that moment to make a commitment to action for the days that follow. It’s similar to what Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:23–24): “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift.”[4] By his blood we are forgiven and cleansed to start afresh. By remembering Christ, we are empowered to go out and serve.

As we come to today’s gospel passage again, we find ourselves at the end of the dining part of the Last Supper gathering. Jesus wants this time to be memorable for his disciples, because he tells them this is the last time they’re going to have any meaningful contact with him, at least in his earthly form. John makes a point of saying “When [Judas] was gone,” Jesus began delivering his final instructions, his “action plan” if you will, to give them assurance that they will have the guidance of the Holy Spirit after his death, burial, resurrection, and ascension. All of the elements leading up to his crucifixion have been set in motion, and there’s no turning back now.

That is why Jesus can say, “Now the Son of Man is glorified and God is glorified in him.” He knows what is about to happen. Although Jesus will experience many strong emotions, including betrayal, abandonment, and those associated with excruciating pain, he knows the end result will benefit all mankind for eternity. It’s the day he prepared for but perhaps had hoped would never come, or at least had hoped he would not have to endure alone. He knows the days ahead will be difficult, so he gives them a new command.

“Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (John 13:34).

That word “as” carries a huge load with it. It’s not the regular word for “as” in Greek, which is also a two-letter word. The word John uses is a compound word that has the sense of its root words: “love one another according to the way I loved you.” The theme of this new command is found in a few other verses in this part of John, as well as in Luke 6:31: “Treat others according to the way you want to be treated.” “Love” is less about a feeling and more about action. Earlier in John 13, Jesus says, “I have set you an example that you should act toward others according to the way I have acted toward you.” In 15:9, he says, “I have loved you according to the way the Father has loved me,” and then repeats the command from John 13 a few verses later.

Showing this radical, sacrificial, agape kind of love that expects nothing in return is how we show the world we are Jesus followers. It calls us in some cases to reach out beyond our comfort zones and to be hospitable and welcoming to strangers. The author of Hebrews exhorts us in this way in 13:1: “Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters. 2 Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.”[5] We could all use an angel in our lives from time to time, right? The first chapter of Hebrews (1:14) mentions the function of angels: “Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?”[6] God uses angels, in conjunction with the Holy Spirit, to empower and enable us to show love to others. But I digress just a bit.

God demonstrated his great love for us in Jesus through his life among us, his crucifixion, and his resurrection. I want to bring in the last couple verses of our reading from Psalm 148 this morning, because it is one of the foundational prophecies that show us what the Israelites expected of the Messiah, and Jesus proved faithful to that promise:

13 Let them praise the name of the Lord,

for his name alone is exalted;

his splendor is above the earth and the heavens.

14 And he has raised up for his people a horn, k

the praise of all his faithful servants,

of Israel, the people close to his heart.

Praise the Lord. [7]

Jesus is our horn, the strength that we need to endure each day. Let us continue to hold fast to our Savior so that the world will know him, his salvation, and the power and love of God Almighty. Amen!

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

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

[3] Hicks, John Mark. “The Lord’s Supper as Eschatological Table” in Evangelicalism and the Stone-Campbell Movement, Volume 2: Engaging Basic Christian Doctrine. William R. Baker, ed. Abilene: ACU Press, 2006.

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

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

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

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

April 20, 2025

Running the Resurrection Race (Easter 2025; John 20:1–18)

Filed under: 1 Corinthians,1 Samuel,Christology,Easter,Ephesians,Faith, Faithfulness,forgiveness,Galatians,Hebrews,John Gospel of,Jonah,Life of Christ,Luke Gospel of,Passion,Proverbs,Psalms,Repentance,Resurrection,Soteriology — Scott Stocking @ 7:55 pm
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I delivered this message Easter (Resurrection Sunday), April 20, 2025, at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, Nebraska. I focused on the theme of “running,” picking up on the account of Peter and John “racing” to the tomb.

Good morning! Hallelujah, Jesus is Risen!

The Bible has a running theme. No, seriously, the Bible talks a lot about “running” in the context of our faith. Consider these two verses from 2 Samuel 22:29–30 (par. Psalm 18:28–29) NKJV:

29          “For You are my lamp, O Lord;

The Lord shall enlighten my darkness.

30          For by You I can run against a troop;

By my God I can leap over a wall.[1]

Or how about Psalm 119:32 (NKJV):

I will run the course of Your commandments,

For You shall enlarge my heart.[2]

Then there’s Proverbs 18:10 (NKJV):

10          The name of the Lord is a strong tower;

The righteous run to it and are safe.[3]

The running theme carries over into the New Testament as well, especially in Paul’s letters:

There’s 1 Corinthians 9:24 (NIV): “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize?”[4]

And Galatians 2:2b (NIV): “I wanted to be sure I was not running and had not been running my race in vain.”[5]

Even the author of Hebrews gets in on the theme in 12:1–2a (NIV): “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.”[6]

We see the running theme in the parable of the prodigal or “lost” son in Luke 15:20 (NIV), although in a slightly different way when it comes to the father in the parable:

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.”[7]

A few verses later, we learn why the father ran to greet his son: “‘This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.”[8]

I think you see where I’m going with this now, right? In our gospel passage this morning, however, Mary and the disciples aren’t looking for a “lost” or prodigal son, but, as they will realize shortly, the once dead and now risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Mary runs to tell the disciples the news, and Peter and John run, no race back to the tomb to see if what she’s telling them is true. The news was that incredible that they couldn’t just take a casual morning stroll back to the tomb.

Now before I dive into this morning’s passage from John, I want to do a quick sidebar on one of the most common questions people ask about the crucifixion and resurrection. Jesus was crucified on a Friday and rose from the dead on Sunday. That sounds like about 48 hours, right? Two days? But Jesus had predicted all along that he would rise on the third day. He “borrowed” that timeline from the prophet Jonah, who had spent three days and nights in the belly of the great fish. By Jewish reckoning, the first day of anything is “day one.” We see that in Genesis: “There was evening and morning, the first day.” Jesus was arrested (i.e., “swallowed up”) on Thursday evening after sundown and subjected to a rigged trial that was illegal by Jewish laws in several ways had sealed his fate before it even started, so the period from sundown Thursday through sundown Friday was “the first day.” The Sabbath, of course was on Saturday, having begun at sundown Friday night, the second day. This of course makes Sunday the third day. Jesus could have risen any time after sundown Saturday night and would have fulfilled the prophecy of rising on the third day.

In fact, John’s account tells us it was still dark when Mary Magdalene got to the tomb Sunday morning. John says nothing about whether the guards were there. I’m guessing not, though, as they probably ran off terrified that the stone rolled away seemingly all by itself. Matthew says the guards had to make up a story about it, but they most likely would have been disciplined if not executed for their inability to keep a dead man in a tomb. The details differ among the gospel writers, but I’ll stick with John’s narrative here the rest of the way. Mary didn’t wait around to find out what happened. She had apparently looked in the tomb before running back to Peter and John (“the other disciple”) because she told them Jesus wasn’t there anymore.

Peter and John went racing back to the tomb. John made sure he reported that he won the race, but Peter went in first. Isn’t that the reverse of the Prodigal parable? The prodigal Peter, who had denied knowing Jesus three times during the illegal trial, came running back to his savior. It seems odd that they just looked into the tomb and apparently shrugged their shoulders at each other. John tells us that he and Peter found strips of linen there and a separate head cloth when they went into the tomb. Not sure what that means for the Shroud of Turin. But it does suggest that someone had to unwrap Jesus, unless his arms weren’t secured to the body.

Because they still hadn’t put two and two together yet, they decided to head home. No further investigation; no searching for clues or footprints in the dust; no trying to find eyewitnesses that may have seen what happened. What’s especially surprising to me is this: why did they leave Mary Magdalene at the tomb all alone, still crying in grief and shock that someone might have stolen Jesus’s body? Not very gentlemanly of them. And they missed the best part.

Mary, however, did not miss the best part. When she looked into the tomb again, she saw the angels, probably the same ones who unwrapped Jesus’s body that morning. Why weren’t they there when Peter and John went in? Difficult to say, except perhaps that they should have been able to recall Jesus’s teaching about him rising from the dead after three days. Or maybe it’s because Mary was the first one to arrive at the tomb, so she got to be the first one to see him when he made his appearance. Jesus was apparently just freshly resurrected, because Mary couldn’t touch him for whatever reason.

The fact that Mary has a validated claim of being the first to see Jesus risen (besides perhaps the Roman guards) might add some credibility to the resurrection story. If Peter and John had been the first ones to see him alive, it’s possible they could have been accused of a conspiracy to hide the body and say he rose from the dead. It would be more incredible to believe that a couple older Jewish women could have carried his body off than it would be to believe Jesus had risen from the dead.

Jesus told her to go find Peter and the rest of the disciples and let them know he was indeed alive. The disciples don’t have to wait too long to see the risen Savior for themselves. That very night, Jesus would appear to them behind locked doors and reveal himself. Jesus was revealing himself to more and more people and would continue to do so for the next 40 days or so to establish an irrefutable claim that he had indeed risen from the dead. He had won the victory over death and the grave so that we also could live in that hope of the same victory.

What is the message we can take from this passage today, that the disciples ran to see if the hope of Jesus survived his crucifixion? Well, lately I’ve been seeing news reports that people, especially young people, are coming back to church after the COVID shutdowns had decimated many congregations. The White House has established an Office of Faith that is, ostensibly, looking out for the rights of those who live out their faith but have been hounded or cancelled by antireligious forces. We’re even seeing some politicians be more sincerely bold about speaking about faith matters. If we’re in the start of a revival in our country, let’s jump on the bandwagon!

I want to read to you part of an opinion piece that came out Saturday morning from columnist David Marcus. In it, he speaks of the connection between the suffering the church experienced through COVID and the beautiful end result that the church experienced in history after other periods of suffering:

Perhaps we should not be surprised that the bitter cup of COVID led to greater religious observance by Christians. After all the Holy Spirit, speaking through the prophets, has told for thousands of years of periods of loss and suffering that end in the fullness of God’s light.

From the banishment from Eden, to the Flood, to the Exodus, and finally Christ’s 40 days of starvation and temptation in the desert, again and again, it is suffering that brings God’s people closest to Him.

During COVID, our desert was isolation, and especially for young people, it only exacerbated what was already a trend of smartphones replacing playgrounds, of virtual life online slowly supplanting reality.

At church, everything is very real, much as it has been for more than a thousand years. At church, we are never alone. At church, things can be beautiful and true and celebrated, unlike the snark-filled world of our screens that thrives on cruel jokes.

Human beings need a purpose and meaning beyond being a cog in the brave new world of tech. We need connection to our God and to each other.[9]

I hope that Mount View can be a place where you continue to find connection to God. If you’re visiting today, I hope and pray that you’d want to stick around and discover more of that connection to God. And if I may speak from my own heart for a moment, I want to say this: I’ve been filling the pulpit off and on for over 3½ years at this point, and much more frequently since last October. You have grown on me, and I hope that you’ve grown with me. And I pray that the testimony of your fellowship will attract more and more people who desire to connect with God. I pray that the messages here as people download them from the Internet will bear much fruit wherever it is heard and repeated.

The church is winning the race to win the hearts and souls of those who seek a deeper connection with God and with their own faith. I mean, who would have ever thought that the American Idol reality show would have a three-hour special featuring “Songs of Faith” like they’re doing tonight! I’d say the Spirit is on the move! You and I may never be on American Idol, but we can be bright and shining lights so that the world may know the hope we have.

On this day when we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus, I want to close with an encouragement to you from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, 1:18–20 (NIV):

I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, 19 and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength 20 he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms.[10]

Amen, and have a blessed Resurrection Sunday with friends and family.

[1] The New King James Version. 1982. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

[2] The New King James Version. 1982. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

[3] The New King James Version. 1982. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

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

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

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

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

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

[9] DAVID MARCUS: 5 years after a dark COVID Easter, faith is flourishing | Fox News, accessed 04/19/25.

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

May 13, 2024

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

Filed under: 1 Samuel,Birth Stories,Courage,Easter,Exodus,Faith, Faithfulness,Greek,Luke Gospel of,Matthew Gospel of,Prayer,Women in Leadership — Scott Stocking @ 8:41 pm
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Message preached on May 12, 2024, (Mother’s Day; Ascension Sunday) at Mount View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE. Scripture readings for the day were Psalm 1 and Luke 24:44–53 (from Ascension Thursday).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My heart rejoices in the Lord;

in the Lord my horn u is lifted high.

My mouth boasts over my enemies,

for I delight in your deliverance.

2 “There is no one holy like the Lord;

there is no one besides you;

there is no Rock like our God.

3 “Do not keep talking so proudly

or let your mouth speak such arrogance,

for the Lord is a God who knows,

and by him deeds are weighed.

4 “The bows of the warriors are broken,

but those who stumbled are armed with strength.

5 Those who were full hire themselves out for food,

but those who were hungry are hungry no more.

She who was barren has borne seven children,

but she who has had many sons pines away.

6 “The Lord brings death and makes alive;

he brings down to the grave and raises up.

7 The Lord sends poverty and wealth;

he humbles and he exalts.

8 He raises the poor from the dust

and lifts the needy from the ash heap;

he seats them with princes

and has them inherit a throne of honor.

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

on them he has set the world.

9 He will guard the feet of his faithful servants,

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

“It is not by strength that one prevails;

10   those who oppose the Lord will be broken.

The Most High will thunder from heaven;

the Lord will judge the ends of the earth.

“He will give strength to his king

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

March 24, 2024

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

Filed under: Biblical Studies,Christology,Easter,Isaiah,John Gospel of,Lent,Life of Christ,Luke Gospel of,Mark Gospel of,Matthew Gospel of,Passion,Psalms,Resurrection,Spiritual Warfare,Trial of Jesus — Scott Stocking @ 7:16 pm
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I preached this sermon Palm Sunday, March 24, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church.

Click here to save 10% on various Logos Bible Software packages and get five free digital books.

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

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

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

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

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

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

7 He was oppressed and afflicted,

yet he did not open his mouth;

he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,

and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,

so he did not open his mouth.

8 By oppression and judgment he was taken away.

Yet who of his generation protested?

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

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

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

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.”[3]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My thoughts are my own.

Scott Stocking

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

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

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

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

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

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

March 4, 2023

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

Filed under: Advent,Adviento,Biblical Studies,Birth Stories,Christology,Christology,Chronology,Easter,Ecclesiology,Epifanía,Epiphany,Isaiah,Lent,Life of Christ,Liturgical Calendar,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.

May 23, 2022

A Nation of Praise: Psalm 67

Filed under: Biblical Studies,Easter,Hebrew,Liturgical Calendar,Prayer,Psalms,Thanksgiving — Scott Stocking @ 11:25 pm
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Listen to “A Nation of Praise: Psalm 67”

Preface and Introduction

I want to give this preface to my message this morning: The Book of Psalms was the hymnal for the Jews. It’s not completely clear when the collection as we have it today was complete, but we do know that long before the great Psalm writer David ever was born, God’s chosen nation was already starting to write and sing some of these hymns. So fair warning this morning, since the psalms were sung, you might catch me breaking out into song during my sermon. I may not be able to help myself!

The Songs of Moses and the Israelites

The Old Testament gives us many stories of the deeds of great men and women of faith, along with the praise that accompanied those deeds and in many cases told their stories. The first such example of this, at least in a big way, is the song of Moses and Miriam in Exodus 15 after the Israelites passed through the Red Sea and God drowned the Egyptian army. Here are the first few lines of that song:

“I will sing to the Lord,

for he is highly exalted.

Both horse and driver

he has hurled into the sea. (sing it with the “Yeehaw” at the end)

2 “The Lord is my strength and my defense;

he has become my salvation.

He is my God, and I will praise him,

my father’s God, and I will exalt him.

3 The Lord is a warrior;

the Lord is his name.

There’s a short song of praise in Numbers 21, where the Lord provides water for the Israelites: “Spring up, O well!”

Deuteronomy has another long song of Moses just before his death.

3 I will proclaim the name of the Lord.

Oh, praise the greatness of our God!

4 He is the Rock, his works are perfect,

and all his ways are just.

A faithful God who does no wrong,

upright and just is he.

David, toward the end of his life and after had won victory over all his enemies, including Saul, sang a 50-verse song of praise in 2 Samuel 22, which was included with the Psalms in Psalm 18:

“The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;

3     my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,

my shield and the horn of my salvation.

He is my stronghold, my refuge and my savior—

from violent people you save me.

4 “I called to the Lord, who is worthy of praise,

and have been saved from my enemies.

The Praise of Jehoshaphat

Now all these songs of praise were sung after the fact, after the events for which they tell the story. But in 2 Chronicles 20, we have the story of Jehoshaphat, who decided his army should be led by a choir! We pick up the story of the impending battle in vs. 20:

“Listen to me, Judah and people of Jerusalem! Have faith in the Lord your God and you will be upheld; have faith in his prophets and you will be successful.” 21 After consulting the people, Jehoshaphat appointed men to sing to the Lord and to praise him for the splendor of his holiness as they went out at the head of the army, saying:

“Give thanks to the Lord,

for his love endures forever.”

22 As they began to sing and praise, the Lord set ambushes against the men of Ammon and Moab and Mount Seir who were invading Judah, and they were defeated.

Did you hear that? Judah put prayer and praise first in their battle plan, and they won the war without ever having to engage a single enemy with weapons of war. Now we probably don’t have the whole song here, because the writer speaks of “prais[ing] him for the splendor of his holiness.” What we probably have here is the most likely the first line of the song, in which case, we could make an educated guess that the rest of the song may be found in Psalm 136:

1 Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.

His love endures forever.

2 Give thanks to the God of gods.

His love endures forever.

3 Give thanks to the Lord of lords:

His love endures forever.

We see what can happen when a nation comes together in their faith in God: Mighty battles can be won, and the nation’s enemies turn and fight amongst themselves or are attacked by third parties to their own destruction. And not only that, it took Judah three whole days to plunder the resources of the dead armies in the desert. And although we have no record of the words of their praise after they finished plundering the Ammonites and Moabites, we still know that they did gather in “The Valley of Berakah”, or “The Valley of Praise,” then returned to the temple joyfully with the music of harps, lyres, and trumpets. Not sure how they managed the harps on the battlefield!

Psalm 67

So, when Psalm 67 came up on the Lectionary calendar for today, I knew I had to preach on it. It was the first psalm, in its entirety, that I’d ever written music for. I don’t remember whether it was in college or after I got to seminary, but I do remember after really reading it for the first time, and not just speed reading through it, that I actually felt inspired to put it to music. Let’s listen to it again, and I’ll offer up my own rendition of the chorus verses (3 & 5):

For the director of music. With stringed instruments. A psalm. A song.

1 May God be gracious to us and bless us

and make his face shine on us—

2 so that your ways may be known on earth,

your salvation among all nations.

3 May the peoples praise you, God;

may all the peoples praise you.

4 May the nations be glad and sing for joy,

for you rule the peoples with equity

and guide the nations of the earth.

5 May the peoples praise you, God;

may all the peoples praise you.

6 The land yields its harvest;

God, our God, blesses us.

7 May God bless us still,

so that all the ends of the earth will fear him.

Now I always liked to add a little pep to the song if it was appropriate, and since this was about everyone praising God, I thought the chorus should sound something like this (New American Standard Version):

Let the peoples praise thee, O God, Let all the peoples praise thee!

Let the peoples praise thee, O God, Let all the peoples praise thee!

Psalm 67 is a carefully structured psalm that really does lend itself to being put to music, especially in the modern era, as music theory has developed to this point. Verses 1 & 2 are the first stanza or musical “verse” of the song. Verse 3 is the chorus; verse 4 is the bridge and the only verse in the psalm that has three lines as formatted; followed by the chorus repeated in verse 5. Verses 6 & 7 are the second stanza or musical verse of the song.

The other interesting thing to note about the structure of the psalm is that it’s a chiasm. What’s that, you ask? A chiasm is fancy term describing a particular structure of a section or written text, large or small, in which the elements or themes as presented in the first part of the text section are repeated in reverse order in the last section of the text. So here we have a stanza, chorus, bridge, chorus, stanza. The reason this is important to know is that in a chiasm, usually the middle element (in this case, the bridge) is the main idea of the passage, if it’s long enough to warrant that. We’ll get to that part in a moment.

Let’s break down this passage. The first verse sounds very much like what we know as the Priestly Blessing from Numbers 6:24–26:

24 “ ‘ “The Lord bless you

and keep you;

25 the Lord make his face shine on you

and be gracious to you;

26 the Lord turn his face toward you

and give you peace.” ’

Now this passage really brings back some memories of Mt. View when I was a kid. If you attended this church when I was a kid 45+ years ago, you know why. The choir used to exit down the aisle and line up in the walkway at the back of the sanctuary and sing this to end the service and dismiss us. (Sing it)

The Lord bless you and keep you,

The Lord lift his countenance upon you

And give you peace.

Now as when I was a kid, even though by that point in the service I was probably wanting to get home, I do remember having a bit of fascination with that musical benediction. Our choir back then did it quite well. Beautiful four-part harmony, a little bit of antiphony and overlapping melodies to mimic the voices congregation as they greeted each other on the way out of the sanctuary, and the descant over the “amen” chorus at the end as if an angel of God were signaling God’s pleasure with the saints gathered.

Verse 2 is the reason why he makes his face shine upon us: so we can share the good news with the world! If I’m not mistaken, I’d say that sounds very much like being the light of the world and letting the whole world see and glorify God. We are God’s representatives here on earth, and we’re called as a holy, set apart, people to live such lives that the world cannot refute or call us into question for what we believe. When the world sees us living united in our faith, that sends a positive to message to the world that the peoples and nations have no option but to praise God. And what is praise? Praise is nothing more than an expression of worthiness toward the one who is the object of praise.

As I indicated above, vs. 4 is the “bridge” verse, or perhaps better, the hinge pin that the Psalm is centered on. From vv. 2–4, we have three different words used for the “nations” or “people.” In vs. 2, the psalmist uses the word (גּ֝וֹיִ֗ם) goyim for “nations.” Typically this might be translated specifically as “gentiles,” referring perhaps to more of a religious feature: those who don’t worship God regardless of their nationality. “Peoples” (עַם ʿǎm) in vv. 3, 4, and 5 probably has to do more with local family units or tribes within a nation than a whole nation.

“Nations” in verse 4 (לְאֹם leʾōm) refers more to the general population as a whole without referring to ethnicity, race, or religious affiliation. This would simply indicate that God’s word is for everyone; no one is excluded!

If we recall Jehoshaphat’s strategy, he praised God with a choir at the head of the army. In our world today, which is becoming increasingly hostile toward Christianity and Christian values, we can use praise as a weapon to keep all things aligned for God. Our hope as Christians is that speaking and living out God’s word will bring all nations to repentance and to follow their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. We hope that all things will work together for good for those who love God. And we hope that we can convince the world to live in true peace and love.

In the last two verses, we see a promise of God, that we will not have need because we will have a good harvest to maintain our health and strength. As the light of God’s face brightens our lives, so the blessing of God in our lives will convince even more to acknowledge the healthy sense of fear we should have when coming before the God of the universe.

Conclusion

Every time we share the good news of Jesus and God’s greatness, we have the promise of Isaiah 55:10–11:

10 As the rain and the snow

come down from heaven,

and do not return to it

without watering the earth

and making it bud and flourish,

so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,

11 so is my word that goes out from my mouth:

It will not return to me empty,

but will accomplish what I desire

and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

Sometimes we may look at the world and see the moral fabric deteriorating around us. The words of the psalmist seem truer every day (14:1):

1 The fool says in his heart,

“There is no God.”

They are corrupt, their deeds are vile;

there is no one who does good.

We are the light of the world. We are the city on a hill. We are the salt of the earth. We are God’s hands and feet to take his message of hope and love to the world. Let’s go forth, singing his praises and proclaiming his blessings to those around us.

Scott Stocking. My views are my own.

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