Sunday Morning Greek Blog

December 7, 2024

Advent Hope

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let’s take a look at each of these.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May 13, 2024

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

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.

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,

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

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.

“There is no one holy like the Lord;

there is no one besides you;

there is no Rock like our God.

“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.

“The bows of the warriors are broken,

but those who stumbled are armed with strength.

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.

“The Lord brings death and makes alive;

he brings down to the grave and raises up.

The Lord sends poverty and wealth;

he humbles and he exalts.

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.

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)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was oppressed and afflicted,

yet he did not open his mouth;

he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,

and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,

so he did not open his mouth.

By oppression and judgment he was taken away.

Yet who of his generation protested?

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

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

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

The Lord says to my lord:

“Sit at my right hand

until I make your enemies

a footstool for your feet.”

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

“Rule in the midst of your enemies!”

Your troops will be willing

on your day of battle.

Arrayed in holy splendor,

your young men will come to you

like dew from the morning’s womb. j

The Lord has sworn

and will not change his mind:

“You are a priest forever,

in the order of Melchizedek.”[3]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My thoughts are my own.

Scott Stocking


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

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

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

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

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

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

March 13, 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

February 29, 2024

How to Not Be Ashamed of Jesus (Mark 8:31–38)

Message preached second Sunday of Lent, February 25, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, NE.

Think for a moment about the things people give up for Lent: Chocolate, coffee or other caffeinated beverages, maybe adult beverages, or something that might take more discipline like trading in turf for surf on Fridays or not watching TV. But should Lent really be about giving up things that maybe aren’t so good for us physically or spiritually anyway? Why not instead give up those things that distract us from our commitment to Christ? For those not familiar with the seasons of the church calendar, it may be best to first answer the question, “What is Lent?”

The word Lent itself simply means springtime. For those of us in the northern parts of the northern hemisphere, that seems like a funny thing to call it, because it starts in the dead of winter, anywhere from the middle of February through first week of March, typically. But it does end just before Easter, or Resurrection Sunday as some call it, so that is springtime for us.

Because it typically starts in the dead of winter, the acts of denial typically associated with Lent may not have been a deliberate choice in the early and formative years of church polity. Winters were probably pretty harsh for some. But the fact that Lent looked forward to a time of emerging from the darkness and coldness of winter into the light and life of spring was certainly a means of hope and a renewed sense of purpose. But it wasn’t just a meteorological hope: Lent as a religious holiday always looks forward to the eternal hope we have because of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

As we come to our passage today, we see Jesus is beginning to experience some frustration with his closest followers. Peter has just made the good confession that Jesus is the Messiah when the other apostles couldn’t figure that out. Up to this time, the disciples had been holding out the hope that Jesus would finally be the political leader the Jews had been expecting to come throw off the chains of Rome and allow them to live as a free people again. But Jesus knew he had to set them straight on just what his kingdom was going to be like. He knew freedom was coming, but it wouldn’t necessarily be from Roman rule. He knew blood must shed, but it wouldn’t be the blood of Romans. He was looking for a kingdom that would not be limited by a geographical region because it would rise up in the hearts and souls of his followers. But just because this kingdom wouldn’t come by war doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be difficult.

This is why Jesus starts teaching his disciples and followers about his upcoming suffering. He wants his disciples to be ready as well, as they will not be immune to suffering and persecution. Peter, ever the fireball, rebukes Jesus for talking about suffering and rejection. After all, Peter thought Jesus would use his divine power to take care of Rome once and for all. Yet Jesus rebukes Peter harshly for thinking like this: “Get behind me, Satan!” O you of little faith. When James and John ask if they can sit at the right and left hand of Jesus, that must have broken his heart as well. Even Judas, we’re told, is “helping himself” to the group’s funds at this point, presumably thinking he might be the minister of finance in the kingdom he thought was coming. Jesus was realizing their human frailty didn’t allow them yet to see what kind of kingdom he would raise up.

What’s interesting about v. 31–32 in our gospel passage this morning is that, when Jesus talks about what he must suffer and at whose hands he must suffer, never once does Jesus mention Rome. Jesus said he would suffer at the hands of the religious leaders of his day, not at the hands of Rome. Did you ever notice that little detail? Apparently the disciples didn’t notice that little detail either when he said it, because they went on thinking the kingdom would be all about confronting Rome. That’s why Jesus must tell them two or three times about his suffering and death in the last half of the gospel accounts.

So what can Jesus do about it at this point? The Jews were not expecting a suffering Messiah, so they weren’t even paying attention to the suffering Messiah psalms or prophecies. We read the last part of Psalm 22 this morning, which is quite upbeat compared to the first part of that Psalm whose verses detail many aspects about what happened to Christ on the cross. The truth is, Jesus knew he must begin to explain more in detail about what he himself would be facing, “the baptism with which Jesus will be baptized with,” and for that matter, what John and James and the rest of the disciples would be facing.

For whatever reason, the Lent passages are a little out of order. A couple weeks ago was “Transfiguation Sunday,” and the Scripture for that Sunday was the gospel text immediately following today’s passage, Mark 9. Apart from Jesus’s words and teaching in the last part of Mark 8, the Transfiguration event should have been the first clue to Peter, James, and John that Jesus’s coming kingdom was not going to be one of this world. It would in fact be a very different kingdom and look nothing like any kingdom ever before seen on earth.

Notice after Jesus finishes rebuking Peter, the very next thing Mark records Jesus saying is that his disciples must take up their cross and follow him. The question is, how would the disciples have understood the “taking up the cross” reference if they hadn’t yet seen Jesus crucified? They knew that the cross was an instrument of Roman torture and punishment, so Jesus’s mention of it must have been somewhat concerning to them if not frightening.

His words get more concerning as he goes on. It’s not enough for one to take up their own cross, but then he starts talking about “losing” your life or your very being. The contradiction of what he was saying must have been mind blowing. If they want to keep their current life, they’ll actually wind up losing it. But if they give up their current life in favor of following Christ and proclaiming his gospel, they’ll actually find out who they truly can be in Christ and what is God’s purpose for their life.

He begins to cut at the heart of the disciples’ misleading conception that they would be “gaining the world” by following Christ, gaining positions of influence and power in an earthly kingdom. What good is it to get all that power if you forfeit who you are and what God wants of your life? O, that many of our politicians would learn that lesson, right? How much is your soul, your very being worth if you would cast it aside for earthly gain, especially when you hold that up against the value that God places on your soul?

Jesus minces no words as he closes out his teaching. It’s time to take sides. If you’re ashamed of Jesus, Jesus honors that and won’t invite you to hang out with him anymore. You won’t have to worry about being seen with someone you’re ashamed of. Is that what you want? On the other hand, if you’re “at home” with Jesus and not afraid to be identified as one of his followers, then you’ll get to join him in the eternal home prepared for you.

Before addressing the positive elements of this passage, I want to wrestle with one question about the negative element: What does it mean to be ashamed of Jesus? The concept in the Bible suggests that being “ashamed” of something is the opposite of being confident you’ve done something right or good and taking a sense of inner pride in that. Being ashamed is more akin to being disgraced, that is, wanting to hide your face from others for whatever it is you’re doing, whether it is a sinful act that deserves shame or a cowardly attitude that causes you to either not take action when you should or even worse, to outright deny the value of something. Additionally, the root of the word is also the root for the concept of strength or power in the New Testament, but for the meaning “ashamed,” the negative prefix is added ἐπαισχύνομαι (epaischynomai)[1]. So there is an underlying nuance of not having or losing strength or power when your ashamed of good things. However, the shame we experience when doing something wrong is meant to motivate us to strengthen our resolve and our character so we have the power to do better the next time.

I know I’m jumping ahead a bit in the biblical timeline, but we have two appropriate examples of shame we can point to, especially in the events surrounding the crucifixion. Perhaps you’ve probably already made the connection to Peter’s actions outside the high priest’s residence at the illegal trial of Jesus the night before his crucifixion. Not once, not twice, but three times Peter denies knowing Jesus. Those were acts of cowardice on his part, but I’ll give him credit for at least showing up there. Where were the rest of the disciples after Jesus’s arrest?

The other example that perhaps you haven’t considered as an act of being ashamed of Jesus would be Judas’s betrayal. As I said above, Judas and the other disciples were expecting an earthly kingdom. Judas seems to have become disillusioned with the direction Jesus’s teaching and ministry had taken and was ashamed that things seemed to be falling apart from a worldly perspective. Perhaps he thought that getting Jesus arrested would be just the catalyst needed to start a revolt or rebellion that would cast off Roman rule once and for all. He wasn’t the only one who hadn’t yet grasped that there was a more eternal, spiritual kingdom on the way. When what he had hoped for didn’t pan out, his own shame was so great that he went out and hanged himself. He lost any shot at redemption at that point.

Peter, it seems, gave up at the point of his denials, but fortunately for the early church and the rest of us today, he didn’t follow in Judas’s footsteps. A few days after the resurrection, Peter received forgiveness when Jesus asked him not once, not twice, but three times if Peter loved him. It was as if each yes answer Peter gave undid each of his denials at Jesus’s trial.

How can we today show that we’re not ashamed of Jesus? The most obvious thing is keep sharing the good news of Jesus. As long as this congregation is doing the work God is calling and gifting you to do, you have no reason to be ashamed about any aspect of the ministry of this church. Don’t even be ashamed of the size of your congregation. Where two or three are gathered in Jesus’s name, he’s here in our midst. Don’t be discouraged. I also want to encourage you NOT to think that this church will inevitably close its doors. God works in mysterious ways, and he can bring life to places in ways we never imagined.

The Gospel of John has a slightly different version of this passage. It’s not strictly a parallel passage, but it does involve Jesus predicting his death and has the piece in it about losing your life for the sake of eternal reward. Listen to the words of Jesus John records for us:

23 Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24 Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. 25 Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26 Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me.[2]

Now of course, in this passage, Jesus is referring to himself as the seed. But if we are in Christ, we also can be the seeds that produce a whole new crop. So I would encourage you not to think of Mount View Presbyterian in terms of it being in its twilight. Think of this church as a seed that is planted here in the neighborhood of 52nd & Hartman, where you have several grade schools within a three-mile radius. I would encourage you to look beyond yourselves and see what possibilities lie ahead, because God is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine according to his power that is at work in us (Ephesians 3:20). We may not see it ourselves, but I truly believe God has a long-term vision and plan for this congregation in this location.

Need more encouragement? I told you a few weeks ago in the parlor about how I’ve been recording my messages and putting them on my blog page. Well, I found out I underestimated how much impact that is having, apparently around the world. Last year, my messages were downloaded over 2,000 times by I don’t know how many people. Just so you understand how that works, someone has to send out a link to the message file on my blog, and others have to intentionally click the link to pull it up on their computer or phone and listen to it. Already this year, there have been an additional 400 downloads of these sermon files. As I said a few weeks ago, I always put on the text version of the file that I’ve preached the sermon here at Mount View.

Unfortunately, I have no idea where these people are who are downloading and listening to these sermons. But am I crazy to think that maybe someday someone might show up at our doors who says, “Hey, I thought I’d check out your church because I heard one of your messages on the Internet”? Regardless of the long-term outcome, know that people all over the world are hearing the word of God in messages preached from this pulpit. Last year alone, people from over 160 countries read at least one article or listened to at least one sermon on my blog. I don’t say this to brag about me. All I do is post the files on the Internet. I don’t do any significant promotion. This all happens by word of mouth and the power of God in fulfillment of his promise that his word never returns void. This has been a God thing through and through, and I pray that this congregation will reap the reward from that.

So I leave you with this: Do not be ashamed of your congregation, because you are the body of Christ, placed here for his purposes. Do not be ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God for salvation. And do not be ashamed of Jesus, who has given us life and hope in his kingdom, both now and for eternity. Amen.


[1] Swanson, James. 1997. In Dictionary of Biblical Languages with Semantic Domains: Greek (New Testament), electronic ed. Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, Inc. Accessed February 29, 2024, from the software. The word used here has an intensifying prefix (ἐπ’) before the more common word for “ashamed.” The root of the word appears to be *ἰσχύ, which means “to be strong, capable.” The negative prefix alpha is added to the beginning of the root and after the intensifying prefix. The complete concept of the word “ashamed” in context, then, is akin to a complete absence of strength of character to stand for one’s convictions.

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

Scott Stocking

My thoughts and ideas are my own, and I have given credit where credit is due.

February 4, 2024

Teaching With Authority (Mark 1:21–28)

I preached this message January 28, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church. It’s based on the Gospel passage for the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany in Year B of the Liturgical Calendar.

When was the last time you were in a hurry to finish up a task? Sometimes, we have deadlines to meet and need to ensure everything gets done just right. Those who like working under that kind of pressure may feel like they’re more focused and some extra adrenaline kicks in to help them get the job done quickly. Others may not like being in a hurry so much. They get flustered and may make mistakes or miss important items they need for whatever they’re preparing for.

The Gospel writer Mark gives us the impression that Jesus is the kind of person who was always in a hurry, and he seemed to thrive on the urgency of the situation. Now some of you might say, “Come on, Scott, how could you know Jesus was in a hurry?” Well, I’ll lay it out here for you.

The verses at the beginning of Mark’s gospel set the theme for Mark’s gospel. Listen to Mark 1:3, quoting Isaiah 40:3:

3 “a voice of one calling in the wilderness,

‘Prepare the way for the Lord,

make straight paths for him.’ ”[1]

The Greek adjective for “straight” means what it says: a straight road unhindered by obstacles, the shortest distance between two points. What is of note for us today is that the adverb form of that verb, often translated “straightaway” or “immediately” in older translations, is used another 41 times in Mark’s gospel, with 10 of those occurrences in Mark’s first chapter alone, and three times in our passage this morning. Mark is letting us know that Jesus is wasting no time in embarking on that straight path, and he has no intention of stopping any time soon.

A quick recap of Mark up to our current passage will help set the stage for talking about Jesus as an authoritative teacher, and how that translates to you and I teaching with authority. Jesus’s cousin John is in the wilderness preaching about the coming of the Messiah when who should show up but Jesus himself. John baptizes Jesus in the Jordan and “immediately” as Jesus came up out of the water, the Holy Spirt visibly descended on Jesus. Mark then gives just a brief statement about Jesus “immediately” going out into the desert and being tempted by Jesus.

After Jesus returns from the desert, he begins preaching a simple message in Galilee, “Repent and believe the good news!” His reputation begins to grow to the point where, in vv. 18 and 20, Simon, Andrew, James, and John all “immediately” leave their fishing boats to follow Jesus. His new followers give him a sense of legitimacy (not that he needed it) in the eyes of the Jews. His “official” ministry had begun.

So now that Jesus has laid the groundwork for his ministry, he returns to his hometown Capernaum, and “immediately” at the next Sabbath synagogue service begins teaching the good news. “Immediately” upon finishing, a man with an unclean spirit cries out that Jesus is the Lord’s Messiah, and Jesus casts out the unclean spirit. In the last verse of our passage today, we see that the end result was that news about what Jesus had done and his teaching with authority “immediately” spread throughout Galilee.

So what does it mean that Jesus “taught with authority”? Aside from being the Son of God and having a direct line to his father, we can be pretty certain that he was a regular at synagogue service growing up, so he’d heard the stories and wisdom literature of the Old Testament and the priest’s or rabbi’s exposition of those scriptures. He grew up in a carpenter’s home (probably not in poverty), so he certainly learned a trade like all other Jewish boys would have, and he had friends that he interacted with. Even as an adolescent, he had already begun to understand and empathize with human condition so that he was no stranger to our sorrows.

The synagogue was also the center for education, at least for males, in the local communities, so Jesus would have likely had a solid education as well, including some Torah training. But he had to bide his time, because 30 was the age a male was considered fully qualified to teach of his own accord in that day.

What Jesus did NOT apparently have in that day was a connection to any of the rabbinic schools who would have trained rabbis to go out to the local synagogues to teach. Nor did he have any letters of recommendation from the Pharisees or Sadducees of his day to further bolster his legitimacy. But that was okay, because he challenged all of those groups to reconsider many of their legalistic interpretations of the Old Testament and, being an outsider, he couldn’t get stripped of any of the privileges or prestige enjoyed by those groups. He was his own man. He knew what his father wanted of him, and he knew how to get there.

In those days, it was important for a teacher to have both an aura of authority and a group of followers. Without followers, people would not give him a second look as teacher; they’d think he and his message were irrelevant. And without authority, especially the authority of his miracles, it would have been easy to dismiss him as a phony and charlatan.

The difficult part of that combination is maintaining authority, because this was a huge barometer in a culture built on the principles of honor and shame. You’ve probably noticed in the Gospels that when someone tried to challenge Jesus’s authority or trap him in his words, he has a couple different ways he responds. With the average person, he tends to be more compassionate and sympathetic with his response. He knows what kind of religious legalism they live under and how that makes them feel inferior.

We see this especially in the Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus starts with the Beatitudes and transitions to challenging the “authorized” teaching of his day. “You have heard it said that,…but I say to you….” This is speech seasoned with salt, if you will, speaking the truth in love and compassion.

With most of the Pharisees and Sadducees, however, it’s a completely different attitude. At times he comes across as downright snarky and perhaps even a little belligerent, at least from our own perspective, when he challenges their legalistic platitudes and nitpicky “requirements” they claim to discern from God’s law. Why did Jesus, whom so many see as a man of peace, respond in this way to the religious leaders?

In a culture of honor and shame, if someone challenged your authority or demonstrated apparent hypocrisy in your teachings and you couldn’t defend yourself against those charges, that usually meant you were done for as a teacher or as an advocate for whatever it was you were promoting. Jesus knew that, of course, so when he responded, he made sure that he not only got his point across but that he also destroyed the argument of those challenging him. After all, he was calling people to follow him, so he needed a compelling reason for them to abandon their current teacher if they weren’t on the up-and-up and a compelling reason to follow him instead.

Jesus employed not just words and wisdom in his teaching, in his defense of his ministry, and in his rebuttals against the religious leaders of the day, but wonders and miracles as well to back up his authoritative words. Like the famous baseball player Dizzy Dean said, “It ain’t bragging if you can do it!”

We see, then, that Jesus’s authority as a teacher comes not only from being the Son of God, something that was not necessarily obvious to anyone who saw him, but also from the wisdom and knowledge he gained from a human perspective and his ability win over followers. But being the Son of God, he had an advantage that you and I typically don’t have when it comes to authority. He could do the miracles.

So how does that impact us today as we live out the witness of our faith and teach others about the Word of God? If you’ll remember when I was here a few Sundays ago, I said that Epiphany was a time for us to introduce people to Jesus. How can we do so with conviction and authority as the body of Christ?

One of the first things I heard about Bible colleges when I went to seminary after getting a degree from UNO was that, for all intents and purposes, a Bible college education was essentially equivalent to having grown up going to Sunday school every week and paying attention along the way. You and I are long past our Sunday school days now, but that doesn’t mean we still can’t learn from the Word of God. Regular study of God’s word, individually and collectively in groups, will always help us “be prepared in season and out of season”[2] to share the hope and encouragement of the Gospel.

I don’t know of any Bible colleges, seminaries, or churches in general who require preachers or members who want to join to fast for 40 days and nights as Jesus did! But there is value in practicing such spiritual disciplines as fasting for a short period, as you are able,[3] and prayer. Such disciplines, when done regularly, give you the spiritual “muscle memory” to develop a Christlike mind set and worldview. You will find that not only will you recognize God’s voice more clearly than ever, but that deciding to do the right thing or avoiding the bad thing will become a more natural choice for you.

You and I may never do anything close to what Jesus did when it comes to miracles, but believe or not, Jesus did give us a means of working miracles in the lives of others. It’s a little verse that says, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Of all the ways people turn their lives around when coming to faith in Jesus, I can say with great certainty that it’s not just our words but how we made others feel. You’ve heard the saying: “I may not remember what you said, but I remember how you made me feel.”

One of the best stories in the Bible that makes this point is the story of the woman caught in the act of adultery in John 8. The religious leaders had brought her into the temple courts and stood her up before the crowd Jesus was teaching to. They were adamant that the woman must be stoned to death for her sin. Jesus takes his time to answer. John says Jesus bends down to write something on the ground, what we don’t know. Then Jesus stands up and says, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.[4]” Then Jesus bends down again and continues writing. That was it. Jesus won. With one simple statement, he destroyed the logic behind the action the religious leaders wanted to take and telegraphed a clear message of compassion and forgiveness to the woman caught in adultery. I’m sure those religious leaders never forgot how Jesus humbled them, and some of them may have genuinely had a lasting change of heart. The woman, of course, was relieved that she was spared from the stoning, but Jesus was clear that she should not continue in her life of sin. She seems to have had a change in heart as well, as we see here later on in the gospel story. That’s the miracle of love and speaking the truth in love.

Finally, your ability and authority to teach has nothing to do with any of your innate biological makeup. The New Testament is clear, when read in the proper cultural and biblical context, that men and women could and did have teaching responsibilities in the early church. I don’t believe anything has changed in 2,000 years of church history to overturn that precedence, in spite of what some have proposed at times. I have studied this quite thoroughly and have written about it elsewhere if you’re interested. (Qualifications of Male and Female Leaders in the Church (1 Timothy); The Temple of Artemis of the Ephesians as Background for Understanding 1 Timothy 2)

We can have confidence to speak and teach the Word of God with authority as we invite people to church and introduce people to Jesus. As you go out the doors this morning, the world is your mission field. Let’s let the world know that Jesus lives and reigns in our hearts. Amen.


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

[2] 2 Timothy 4:2 (NIV).

[3] Disclaimer: Please consult with a medical professional to ensure this would be appropriate for your health situation.

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

January 14, 2024

Epiphany in Ephesians (Ephesians 3:1–13)

I preached this message January 7, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church, after being called upon in the 11th hour to fill in for the scheduled speaker that day. Lightly edited for publication.

Last year you may remember that I spoke about the “epiphany” I had in diving into the celebration of Epiphany and the ancient biblical history, both the Old Testament background and the New Testament setting, behind it. I also shared with you one author’s view that the “wise men” who visited Jesus may not have been Persians, as we’ve typically assumed for many years, but perhaps Jewish scholars or priests who lived in post-exilic Jewish communities that had relocated east of the Jordan River, but not quite to the heart of Babylon. In other words, they would have had an intimate connection to the OT prophecies to such a degree as to have been willing to make the journey to see the newborn Messiah.

In the liturgical calendar, Epiphany is more than just one day of celebrating the visit of these Magi to the house (notice they were no longer in the stable) where Jesus and his family were residing. Epiphany is the season on the church calendar between Christmas and Lent and covers the early chapters of the Gospels up to Jesus’s transfiguration, which is celebrated the Sunday before Lent. The transfiguration is a seminal event in the ministry of Jesus, because it is at that point, I believe, that the disciples, at least the ones who witnessed it, began to comprehend the divine nature of Jesus and his place as the Messiah of God. And of course Lent leads us up to Easter and the resurrection of the Lord, and the Easter season that follows leads us to Pentecost, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit and the foundation of the New Testament church.

A year ago, then, I found myself reflecting on this organization of the liturgical calendar and kept coming back to one certain conclusion: the liturgical calendar is not intended to be some legalistic formula that we follow, but rather a microcosm of our respective journeys with respect to our faith in Christ, how we come to understand his grace in our lives, and how we discover his purposes through and for our lives.

Now we know the magi went out of their way to find the baby Jesus and worship him, because they knew he was the Messiah. But what was their “takeaway” from that experience? How did it impact their lives? Would they have had the same insights that Simeon and Anna had as we saw in last week’s passage? What was the message they brought back to their people from whence they came? Unfortunately, we don’t know much more about the magi and what happened to them afterwards, because they went home by a different route to avoid the clutches of Herod.

One point about the birth of Christ we often point out is that Christ wasn’t born in a royal palace or into a royal or politically connected family. He had humble beginnings in a stable. God wasn’t completely hiding Jesus from the rich and powerful because God did honor the Magi’s heartfelt search for his son. But what we see happening in the early church after Jesus’s resurrection is that the church, the body of Christ, is now tasked with taking the Gospel message not only to the rulers of the earth, as Paul does in Acts, but to “the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms” as Ephesians 3 says.

We see in the book of Acts that Paul, after his dramatic Damascus Road conversion, becomes the most prominent representative of the new Christian faith to the gentile world. From Asia Minor, whence Paul hailed, westward to Rome, Paul’s missionary journeys and the connections he made along the way were instrumental in the spread of the faith in the northern Mediterranean region. Along the way, Paul finds himself before a number of prominent Roman political figures as he’s defending himself for preaching the good news of Jesus.

To summarize, in Acts 21, Paul is arrested in Jerusalem, but when the Roman commander realized Paul was a natural-born Roman citizen, they had to change their approach to him. He was brought before the governor of the region at the time, Felix, who kept Paul in prison “as a favor to the Jews.” Felix was recalled by Rome and replaced by Festus, who was a more even-handed governor. Festus wanted Paul to stand trial before the Jews, but Paul took full advantage of his Roman citizenship and appealed to Caesar instead. Festus refers the matter to King Herod Agrippa, where Paul recounts his conversion experience. In the end, Agrippa concludes that Paul could have been set free had he not appealed to Caesar. Paul asked Agrippa if he believed what the prophets said about Jesus, but Agrippa’s famous response was, “Do you think that in such a short time you can persuade me to be a Christian?”

Had Jesus been born into royalty, riches, or political power, his message surely would have been lost on the world because of how corrupt and power hungry the rulers of the world were in that day and age. The evidence of the power of the Gospel, the good news that Jesus preached and lived out, is found in the body of Christ today. We are his hands. We are his feet. We are his messengers, advocates, warriors, defenders. Without this testimony of the great cloud of witnesses and the growing, flourishing church in Paul’s day, his message before the rulers of the Roman rule would have surely fallen on deaf ears.

You and I may never be arrested and brought to trial for our faith, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still testify to and before our own political leaders, be they local, county, State, or federal positions. The beauty of living in a republic, “if you can keep it” said Ben Franklin, is that we do have the freedom to speak out, even if the expression of faith is becoming increasingly less popular. Paul’s courage to speak of his faith in a time when he could have been (and was) imprisoned or even put to death should be a testimony to those of us who, at least on paper, cannot and should not be imprisoned for speaking our beliefs.

But Paul takes this one step further in Ephesians 3:1–12, which is the evergreen epistles passage for Epiphany. Listen to his words:

For this reason I, Paul, the prisoner of Christ Jesus for the sake of you Gentiles—

Surely you have heard about the administration of God’s grace that was given to me for you, that is, the mystery made known to me by revelation, as I have already written briefly. In reading this, then, you will be able to understand my insight into the mystery of Christ, which was not made known to people in other generations as it has now been revealed by the Spirit to God’s holy apostles and prophets. This mystery is that through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body, and sharers together in the promise in Christ Jesus.

I became a servant of this gospel by the gift of God’s grace given me through the working of his power. Although I am less than the least of all the Lord’s people, this grace was given me: to preach to the Gentiles the boundless riches of Christ, and to make plain to everyone the administration of this mystery, which for ages past was kept hidden in God, who created all things. 10 His intent was that now, through the church, the manifold wisdom of God should be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms, 11 according to his eternal purpose that he accomplished in Christ Jesus our Lord. 12 In him and through faith in him we may approach God with freedom and confidence. 13 I ask you, therefore, not to be discouraged because of my sufferings for you, which are your glory. [1]

After confirming that the wall of separation between Jews and us Gentiles has been forever demolished and that we are, in fact, coheirs with God’s chosen people, Paul expands the audience for our evangelism “to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms.” In other words, when we speak forth God’s word and testify about Jesus, his one and only son, our words have eternal impact “in the heavenly realms.” When we act upon our faith, be it through service or speaking, our actions and words have eternal impact “in the heavenly realms.”

We can view Epiphany, then, as a time to introduce Jesus to those around us, whether that be through service and ministry or just the casual conversations we have in daily life. Depending on the nature of your relationships, those introductions can be very basic or go more in depth. Just as the disciples early on probably didn’t grasp the fullness of who Jesus was just based on his teachings and occasional healing, they needed more experience with Jesus. When Peter, James, and John witnessed the transfiguration, they began to understand more fully who Jesus was. Our goal should be to help people see and experience the divine nature of Jesus as well.

Once they come to accept that, it becomes more natural to talk about Jesus’s death and resurrection and what those events mean for our salvation and hope. That is, if you will, the “Lenten season” of our lives, as we remind ourselves of the sacrifice Jesus made and that he was preparing his disciples to accept when the time of his crucifixion would come. And as we remind ourselves of that and affirm or renew our commitment to Christ, we can bring others along with us as well.

In the beginning, I asked what was the “takeaway” for the magi who had worshiped Jesus and given him gifts. Although we don’t have specific examples of what they did, I think what we’ve seen here in Acts and Ephesians today is that God wanted to establish his church before any formal outreach began to earthly or heavenly rulers and authorities. Paul seems to have understood that it was the job of the church, the body of Christ, to carry out the ministry of preaching to earthly rulers so that all the world might know eventually.

If you’ve never heard this message of Epiphany before, consider yourselves introduced to Jesus! If you have heard this message before, then this is an invitation for you to introduce him to others. God loves us and wants the best for us, which is why he sent Jesus in the first place. The more we introduce others to Jesus, the more the good news of his kingdom spreads. Grace and peace to you all in this new year, and especially in this season of Epiphany. Amen.


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

Scott Stocking.

My views are my own

Follow and communicate with me on Facebook: Sunday Morning Greek Blog (FB)

December 31, 2023

Praising the Savior (Luke 2:22–40)

I preached this sermon at Mount View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE, on December 31, 2023, the First Sunday After Christmas on the liturgical calendar year B. I was on the back end of a cold, so I sound a little different.

Last Sunday, Christmas Eve, I had the privilege of baptizing my half-sister at my home church. Thirty-three years and day before that, December 23, 1990, I had been present at her dedication and baptism at the Lutheran church on N. 30th Street. My dad and her mom wanted me to be her “sponsor” or “Godfather.” It was a distinct honor to come full circle like that on a commitment I quite frankly had little influence on in her early life because I lived 500 miles away.

Lindee’s story parallels my own faith journey as I’ve shared with you in past, but our stories both parallel the life of Jesus in this regard as well, and we see the first part of that story in our passage today. Mary and Joseph take Jesus to the Temple to go through the Jewish purification rites. Mary had to wait 40 days to be purified from giving birth, which as we all know involves some blood. But because Jesus was also a firstborn son, he had to be dedicated to the service of the Lord as the Israelites were commanded in Exodus. That involved a sacrifice as well, as we see in the final “plague” of the Exodus. And of course we know that Jesus was baptized as an adult “to fulfill all righteousness,” as Matthew records. The Western church recognizes that event the day after Epiphany next week.[1]

Now when you and I dedicate ourselves to raising our children in the Lord, whatever that looks like from your perspective, I would venture to guess none of us has any idea what our kids are going to be like some thirty years later. But Mary and Joseph encountered two people in the Temple that day of Jesus’s consecration who seemed to know quite a bit about what Jesus would be doing thirty years later.

Simeon’s prophecy about Jesus is both encouraging and haunting. On the one hand, he is saying that Jesus is the light to the Gentiles Isaiah spoke of in Chapter 9 of his prophecy. But then it takes a darker turn, speaking of the rising and falling of many and that he would be a sign spoken against. The final part of his prophecy to Mary is the most haunting of all: “And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” That little word “too” at the end of the prophecy reveals that Jesus is destined for incredible suffering at some point in the future, which we now know was the cross. Mary witnessed that event as well, so you can imagine the pain she must have felt.

Anna also had what at least on the surface appears to be an encouraging prophecy as well, giving thanks to God, but she mentions the redemption of Jerusalem. Now I know we may tend to throw around these $20 religious words like “salvation” and “redemption” without thinking more deeply about what they imply, but the Jews would have understood from their sacrificial system that “salvation” and “redemption” both required blood sacrifices in the Old Testament. So even as Simeon and Anna spoke over the infant Jesus, their words prefigured in some way, subtle or not, that Jesus would suffer death at some point.

It’s hard to say what the son of God knew or understood as an infant when he heard these words. His human side would not have understood them, but his divine nature surely would have, and how those two natures worked together will perhaps forever be a beautiful mystery to us. But the text in Luke goes on to say that Jesus’s parents took Jesus to the Passover every year in Jerusalem, so Jesus, as he grew older, began to understand that the Temple wasn’t just a place of worship, but his own spiritual home, because the Temple was his Father’s house.

It’s a fair extrapolation, I think, to assume that Jesus and his family were regulars in the local synagogue as well when they weren’t in Jerusalem for the Passover. Luke gives us just a glimpse of Jesus as a preteen with the story of him staying behind to school the teachers of the law in the Temple courts. Now if he was doing that with the teachers in the Temple, can you imagine what he must have been like in the local synagogue? We don’t see Jesus begin his ministry until he was thirty years old, but what was he like as a young adult? Did he give the synagogue leader some pointers after each message? Surely he didn’t live in isolation as a young man. Were the women oohing and aahing about his theological prowess? I’m guessing not. He was probably a Nazarite like Samson, except he knew how to behave himself, which is why we never read about him getting married. He was off limits to women, because he was laser-focused on preparing for his ministry as the Messiah.

All of what I’ve said up to this point is more or less an intellectual exercise, examining the history and background around the birth and dedication of Jesus and the times he lived in. But what are some takeaways for us? What are some things we can do to help our kids and grandkids raise their own kids so they can take ownership of their faith and understand God’s purposes for them in this day and age?

The most obvious takeaway for us is the importance of gathering with God’s people in God’s house. For the Jews, that was primarily the local synagogue, with the Temple being a special destination, one to three times a year depending on how often people could make the journey. For us Christians, we really don’t have anything akin to the Temple, so it’s the local church that’s important.

I’ve often had people tell me, and perhaps you’ve experienced this as well, that you don’t need to go to church to be a Christian. I would beg to differ. As believers, we are part of the body of Christ; we may be set apart from the world in God’s eyes, but we are not set apart from our brothers and sisters in Christ. We are united essentially, intentionally, and constitutionally in God’s eyes through Christ. Wherever God has a child, we have a sibling in Christ. Hebrews 10:24 and 25 puts it this way:

24 And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, 25 not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.[2]

Most of us who have grown up in the church recognize this distinctly. We recognize the power of connection and the shared purpose and goals that develop from such a connection. The local church is not just a place where we come to be uplifted and encouraged, but where we can also uplift and encourage others. It is a community with bonds that are not easily broken.

Related to this is the idea of service. Some churches have signs above the doors that exit out of their sanctuaries that say, “You are now entering the mission field.” In Acts 6, we see the apostles were concerned about the Hellenistic Jewish widows who were being overlooked in the distribution of food. They gathered everyone together and quickly worked out a solution and appointed capable people to handle that specific ministry. That couldn’t have happened if everyone was doing their own thing.

Another takeaway for us comes from the responses of Simeon and Anna. Granted, they had some prophetic insight into who the baby Jesus was and how he fit into God’s plan for salvation and redemption, but we now have the hindsight to know exactly what that looked like. Just as Simeon and Anna praised God for who he is and what he was doing through Jesus, so to can we praise God for who he is, what he has done for us through the death and resurrection of Jesus, and what he is doing in us through the work of the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Our reading from Psalm 148 gives us some hints about how we can praise God:

11 kings of the earth and all nations,

you princes and all rulers on earth,

12 young men and women,

old men and children.

13 Let them praise the name of the Lord,

for his name alone is exalted;

his splendor is above the earth and the heavens. [3]

Like attending church, praise is not just an individual effort we make to show our gratitude to God. Praise also flows from our experience together as a community, especially as we see the fruit of our mutual and collective labors. It also flows from reading and hearing about God’s great works in the service. Psalm 148 also has several references to God’s wonderful creation that is available to all mankind, not just to those of us who believe.

One final thought about Luke’s passage here: Simeon especially indicates that following Jesus is going to cause people to take sides. We see more and more in our world today the antagonism toward the good news of Jesus. This is all the more reason for us to maintain community on the one hand, so there’s strength in numbers. But also we can take a unified stand for righteousness and truth and send a powerful message of unity and steadfastness to the world.

As we look forward to the new year, then, let us resolve and recommit ourselves to serving and praising God and meeting together as body of believers to carry out the various ministries he’s called us to. Together, we can be shining lights in a world of darkness, a beacon of hope amidst the signs of fear and despair. Amen.


[1] I removed the following because I didn’t want the sermon to get too long, and I didn’t want to dive into the topic of adult baptism with an older congregation.

But the parallel doesn’t stop there. I think most of us recognize that next week is Epiphany, where the Western church celebrates the visit of the Magi to the baby Jesus. But how many of you know that the day after Epiphany is the recognition of Jesus’s baptism by John? Even though John knew he needed to be baptized by Jesus, and even though Jesus knew he was the son of God and sinless and had no need to “repent and be baptized” as John was preaching, still Matthew records Jesus’s desire that he be baptized “to fulfill all righteousness.”

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

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

May 6, 2023

Assurance, Hope, and Power: The Disciples’ Resurrection Rebound (John 20:19–31)

Click the Play button below to hear the recording of the message.

My message from 4/16/23, the week after Easter, at Mt. View Presbyterian Church in Omaha.

I learned a fancy new ten-dollar word this week. “Denouement” (day new MA). If you’re into literature or are a member of book club, perhaps you already knew the term before today. It’s a French word that’s made its way into English that refers to what happens in a story after the climax or high point of the action has occurred. The meaning of denouement is “untying of the knot.” An English equivalent, at least in the context of literature, might be “resolution.” How does the story “resolve” or work itself out after the climax.

Why am I starting my message this morning with a vocabulary lesson? (Don’t worry, no quiz at the end!) Well, you may have already guessed where I’m going with this. The crucifixion, burial, and resurrection of Christ is the climax of the Gospel story in the New Testament. Like the Gospels, the Christian liturgical calendar begins with the “prequel” of the Advent, the birth of Christ, beginning the Sunday after Thanksgiving; passes through several “seasons” in which we see the nature and work of our servant-savior; and leads up to the crucifixion and resurrection.

We’ve now entered the “denouement” of the liturgical seasons, the time between the Resurrection, celebrated on Easter Sunday, and Pentecost, 50 days following. After that, aside from the first Sunday after Pentecost being “Trinity Sunday” and the last Sunday of the liturgical year being “Christ the King,” the rest of the liturgical calendar is officially “proper,” or the nth Sunday after Pentecost. That’s doesn’t sound near as exciting as all the stuff at the beginning of the liturgical year.

Of course, the Gospel is a compelling and engaging story regardless of the season, month, or day in our liturgical or regular calendars. It is made so, in part, by the way you and I live out our faith in the places we find ourselves in this world. As disciples of Christ, we have been charged with being light and salt in an increasingly dark and bland world. But it’s hard to do that if we’re not convinced and assured that the resurrection of Christ has secured that hope for us.

That is where we find ourselves in the early stages of this denouement: Jesus had appeared to the women who came to the tomb, and even to two unnamed disciples on the road to the Emmaus, but the 11 remaining apostles had not yet seen him and, according to the longer ending of Mark’s Gospel, they didn’t believe either of those reports from earlier in the day. But on the evening of that same day Jesus was resurrected, Jesus literally drops in on them in the house where they were staying; the door was locked.

All the apostles (“the Twelve”) except Thomas (and of course Judas) were there for the first visit. It’s likely that others were there as well, but the text is silent on that detail. Jesus shows his disciples his pierced hands and side and even asks his disciples to put their fingers in the holes. The disciples are not only convinced, but the text says they are overjoyed as well. Something else happens here that I think gets overlooked in the Gospel story. Jesus essentially commissions the disciples—we don’t know if this meant only those of the Twelve who were present or everyone—by giving them the Holy Spirit in advance of the day of Pentecost. He also gives them authority to forgive sins or not forgive sins. Jesus was granting them a portion of divine authority here, collectively, so that he could have an official complement of representatives to prepare the world for the coming of the Holy Spirit to believers and birth of the Church on the day of Pentecost.

This is important for a couple reasons. First, just as plant seedlings are often nurtured in the controlled environment of a greenhouse or a baby is born in sterile conditions in the hospital, so too did the church need a perfect or near-perfect spiritual environment to get started and to grow. I believe the authority Jesus gives them, again collectively, included the knowledge of the perfect, untainted Gospel on which Jesus wanted to found the church. Their proclamations were considered authoritative, and as a group, they could hold each other accountable for that perfect doctrine, instead of having all of the authority for the church rest in one person. Eight days later, Thomas would be added to that group when he finally got to see Jesus and had every doubt erased. He would be able to proclaim, “My Lord and my God!” after seeing Jesus for himself.

On the other hand, having a group of leaders thus empowered and commission would also help with the stability of the local, usually house, churches that would begin to form after the day of Pentecost. With so many hearing the Gospel in their own language that day, it would be important that someone with that kind of authority could be sort of a regional overseer for the fledgling churches and communicate officially on behalf of the apostles whenever questions arose. We see some hints of that in the middle chapters of the book of Acts. I think it’s safe to say the apostles didn’t want 3,000 new converts going back to their respective homelands without some kind of help from those who had first-hand experience with Jesus and the apostles.

Getting back to Jesus’s first appearances to the disciples, they had assurance of what we read in our passage from Psalm 16 this morning. Here’s verses 9–11 from the New International Version:

9 Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices;

my body also will rest secure,

10 because you will not abandon me to the realm of the dead,

nor will you let your faithful one see decay.

11 You make known to me the path of life;

you will fill me with joy in your presence,

with eternal pleasures at your right hand.[1]

The apostles realized that Jesus was the “faithful one” who did not see decay, and by implication, those faithful ones who had died before had also been safe from that decay. Paul tells us in Ephesians that Christ, upon his resurrection, led an army of captives out of the “lower earthly regions” into the heavenly realms. Peter would use this passage from Psalm 16 in his powerful sermon on the day of Pentecost because he had realized and experienced its truth for himself.

Peter would later write in one of his two letters about the living hope that comes through the resurrection of Jesus. He says this in the opening chapter of his first letter:

3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, 5 who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. 6 In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7 These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. 8 Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, 9 for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls. [2]

Thomas had the luxury of seeing Jesus on his second appearance to the group and finally believing he had risen, even though he refused to believe his closest friends after Jesus’s first appearance convinced them. You and I will probably not have that luxury of seeing Jesus while we dwell on earth, unless he comes again in the immediate future. We would fall, then, in the second category: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

As disciples of Christ, we have a wealth of resources available to us as we live and serve in God’s kingdom. We have a new birth, or as Jesus told Nicodemus, we’re “born again” of the Spirit. The old has gone; the new has come! The past no longer controls us. We have a living hope affirmed by the resurrection. The faithful in the Old Testament probably could not have even conceived of what the New Testament has revealed to us about eternal life in the heavenly kingdom. Our inheritance is permanent! No moth or rust can destroy it!

We’re shielded by God’s power (and his armor) through faith, and we have the hope of his second coming and the eternal salvation that will be ours to claim. We have this assurance even in the midst of the trials and griefs we suffer corporately and individually, for it is in standing firm through these trials that our faith is tested, purified, and proven true. Paul says in Ephesians that when we put on God’s armor, we can stand firm in the faith. We can know in part here on earth that joy we will fully know in heaven!

Even though Easter is the climax of our liturgical year, our denouement need not in any way diminish the joy and excitement of living for Christ in the hope of our resurrection and our salvation. Each and every day can be an adventure with Christ as we read his word, serve those who need an extra measure of his grace, and walk in faithful fellowship with one another. Those first few weeks after the resurrection, the believers had a lot of knots to untie to figure out their part in growing the early church. Of course, the Spirit was calling people, and that couldn’t be stopped. But they had to move quickly. For us today, we could use this season to think about how we do our own ministries. How can we use the excitement of celebrating Jesus’s resurrection to channel that energy into “untying the knots” that may be holding us back from doing more for God’s kingdom or for the local church or community? Are there others we could reach? Are there others we could invite? Are there others who need our help? Who could I talk to about my doubts and fears? These don’t have to be grandiose, but I do think the answers should be just big enough to require some faith in and reliance on God to get them done.

As we move through this season leading up to Pentecost, remember that Christ has given us assurance of his resurrection and our own, the hope of eternal life in an imperishable kingdom, and the power to minister in his name and encourage those who also need that assurance and hope. Peace to you! Amen.


[1] Psalm 16:9–11. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[2] 1 Peter 1:3–9. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

March 4, 2023

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

Background

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

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

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

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

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

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

Advent: Preparing for the Coming Messiah

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

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

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

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

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

Epiphany

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

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

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

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

Lent

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

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

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

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

The things that move us away from The Light.

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

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

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

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

5 Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,

only a day for people to humble themselves?

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

and for lying in sackcloth and ashes?

Is that what you call a fast,

a day acceptable to the Lord?[4]

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

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

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

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

And so on and so on and so on.

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

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

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

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

3           and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

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

the oil of joy instead of mourning,

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

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

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

Conclusion (for now)

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

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

My opinions are my own.

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.

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