Sunday Morning Greek Blog

May 6, 2023

Of Sheep, the Shepherd, and His Open Door (John 10:1–10)

My message from three weeks after Easter, 4/30/23. I’ll add the audio file later.

Nehemiah was a central figure in the rebuilding of Jerusalem after the Exile. Around the year 444 BC, he had approached King Artaxerxes about returning to Jerusalem to see the city walls restored. Some families had been there for almost 70 years already, beginning to return in earnest after the new temple was completed, but they had no protection from enemies around them because of the decimated walls. Most of us, I think, are somewhat familiar with the big picture of the story of rebuilding the wall. The task was divided up among several different groups, with each group taking responsibility for a section of the wall that contained a particular gate—10 gates are mentioned as Nehemiah details the assignments.

One thing of note in this story, especially as it relates to our passage today, is that the Sheep Gate was the first section of the wall to be assigned. It was on the northeast corner of the Temple mount near the recently rebuilt Temple and adjacent to the Pool of Bethesda, and it was most likely the gate the sheep would come through when brought in for the sacrifices. This particular gate was so significant and so important that Nehemiah assigned the high priest and his fellow priests to be in charge of that section. This would be the cornerstone, as it were, for the rest of the wall. That the high priest was involved let everyone know in Jerusalem that this project was serious business. They would establish the standard and the work ethic for getting this project done in 52 days.

John doesn’t give a lot of details about where Jesus is at when he speaks the message of the sheep and the good shepherd in John 10. I can imagine, however, if he was in Jerusalem, he was probably pretty close to the Sheep Gate. Five chapters earlier, Jesus had healed an invalid of his 38-year disability at the nearby Pool of Bethesda. One might say Jesus had already rescued one of his sheep in that instance, just like the parable of the lost sheep from Luke 15.

This location was special not only to Jesus, then, but also to his followers and to those who had witnessed that miracle. Historically, there has been and continues to be an occasional sheep market near that gate, so it’s special to the shepherds as well. It’s entirely possible that Jesus had this as his backdrop while teaching his disciples.

Now the word used for “gate” here is the typical word that would have been used for the door of a house, or more figuratively, a “door” of opportunity. The Greeks had a unique word for gate that typically implied either the entrance into an outdoor enclosed area that didn’t have a frame save for the fence on either side, or a city gate, which may have been reinforced to withstand attacks. In the context of shepherding, a “door” for the sheep may have referred to a corral that had some sort of sheltered area the sheep entered through and could stay under in bad weather.

Regardless, the purpose of the door or gate was to keep the predators out. Verse 1 makes that plain: “Anyone who does not enter the sheep pen by the gate, but climbs in some other way, is a thief and a robber.” In verse 8, Jesus tells his listeners that “all who have come before me are thieves and robbers,” and he finishes off this section by warning them of their purpose: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.”

That sounds pretty scary, right? But in this story, we also get a glimpse of the relationship between the sheep and the shepherd that has helped the sheep develop a sense of when danger is near so they know when to flee. In verse 8, Jesus says the sheep won’t even listen to the thieves and robbers, and in fact, as verse 5 says, they will run away from the thieves and robbers because they don’t recognize the stranger’s voice.

But they do recognize the shepherd’s voice, and they will follow the shepherd. If they’re out in the field grazing, they know when it’s time to come in. If they get lost, they can listen for the shepherd’s call and follow their voice to get home safely.

I think the parallels here for our own lives are obvious to most people, but they always bear repeating. How do you recognize the Shepherd’s voice? How many times have we caught ourselves saying something like, “I just wish God would tell me what to do!” If you’ve spent enough time reading and studying Scripture, praying to God, and hiding his word in your heart, you probably already have the ability to discern God’s voice. You may not hear an audible voice, but sometimes the Holy Spirit’s promptings are so powerful, you cannot help but pay attention and act accordingly. We’ll talk about that some more in a couple weeks.

Another way to hear God’s voice is to read the Bible out loud for yourself. This same John who wrote this gospel says in the introduction to the book of Revelation, “Blessed is the one who reads aloud the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear it and take to heart what is written in it, because the time is near[1]” Did you know that reading out loud takes longer than reading without speaking? When I’m reviewing my sermon to put the finishing touches on it, I can read through it on paper in about 5 minutes just in my head. But when I read it out loud, it forces me to consider how my words sound as they come out of my mouth. What seems perfectly normal to me on paper may have a slightly different nuance when I read it out loud.

When we read silently, we typically read in monotone in our minds. When we read out loud, especially if we’re familiar with the passage, we begin to understand where the author may have intended to inflect their voice one way or the other. When we speak, we tend to emphasize certain words by raising our voice, or maybe drop it to a whisper if we want to add some more drama to it. We raise our voice at the end of a question, right? When we’re getting to our conclusion, we tend to slow down a bit to make sure every word is clearly understood. I do love it that we read whole passages out loud here every Sunday. I think that’s important for any church to do that. And those of you do read up here on Sundays do a great job of putting expression and emotion into the passages you’re reading. That brings God’s word alive and gives all of us a chance to learn it and take it to heart even more fully.

Finally, hearing God’s word read or seeing it portrayed in a movie or television show adds extra depth to God’s word, because you can see an interpretation of the historical and cultural setting in which it’s spoken. A few weeks ago, when I spoke on the woman at the well, instead of reading that long passage from John chapter 4, a passage filled with drama, emotion, and suspense, I thought it much better to show you the clip from The Chosen series about that passage. I think I’m a pretty good reader, but my speaking skills just were not up to the task of trying to portray a frustrated, heart-broken, oppressed woman who’s had five husbands. I just can’t do that role justice! Watching a series like The Chosen, or any of the movies depicting the biblical stories like Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ or Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments, can help bring the biblical story to life for us and give us a new and deeper understanding of God’s word. They help us hear God’s voice in a different way.

Another way we can hear his voice is by fellowshipping with one another. Since we’re called to be part of the body of Christ, fellowshipping with one another allows us to share our experiences with each other and learn from each other how God has worked in and spoken in their lives. We are not alone, and I don’t mean there are aliens out there. We have a great cloud of witnesses surrounding us to give us their historical perspective through their lives, their written or recorded word, and the fruit of their ministry.

If you’re more of a politically or civically minded person, you might be hearing God’s voice if you find you have a passion for some social justice cause on any side of the issue. It’s not my job to tell you which side to take, of course. This is America, after all, and we’re all free to not only express our opinions and beliefs, but to defend and try to persuade others of our beliefs, in love of course. God’s kingdom has a diverse population, and we can’t always expect that everyone will be on the same page of every issue all the time. But let’s not resort to extremes like “cancelling” or ostracism either just because we disagree with a brother or sister in Christ. Let us speak the truth in love to each other. Even if we don’t agree with one another on something, having a robust discussion on issues of the day helps us to understand one another and develops a certain sense of empathy, even if in the end neither side budges. It helps us to see how God may be moving in others’ lives.

There’s one other aspect of this passage that is worth noting, and this really cuts to the core of what Jesus’s statement “I am the gate” is all about. Look at verse 9 again: “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture.” First notice that Jesus says he is THE gate. He’s not just any old gate, and he’s not one of many gates; he’s the only gate. And what does that gate lead to? The salvation of our souls. It’s interesting, I think, that there is only one other time in John’s gospel where Jesus uses the phrase “through me.” It comes in the sixth “I am” statement of Jesus in John 14:6: “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

Jesus is the only way to get to our eternal reward. But what does it mean to go “through” Jesus? It means we become part of the body of the Christ and maintain that connection by being faithful to him. We immerse ourselves in God’s word and surround ourselves with other faithful followers so we have a strong support network. But notice the other part of vs. 9: “The will come in and go out, and find pasture.” Jesus is not saying here that we move in and out of salvation. What he recognizes here is that, as Christ-followers, we can’t avoid being out in the world where wolves and thieves and robbers want to attack us. But we have a safe haven in Christ, where we can enter in and find rest from the struggles of life. Knowing we have that safe haven helps us endure in the “pasture.” In vs. 11, Jesus says he’s the good shepherd. As the good (and perfect) shepherd, he maintains the boundaries of his pen so that we can have that safe place to rest. But he also promises that he won’t abandon us when the wolves come after us in the pasture. He is watching over us, giving us a strong sense of security that he will never leave us nor forsake us. We have a wonderful shepherd, a great high priest who knows what it’s like to be us and can empathize with us in every way.

I suppose we can say that our church family is our “sheep pen.” I do hope that you all feel that sense of security and belonging being here on Sunday mornings and whenever else you gather to make quilts or carry out your other ministry activities. The church is the place where that should happen. I also hope you know that your church family can be a valuable source of support for you in times of trouble, darkness, and even despair. Even though this congregation is small in numbers right now, I have seen the impact of your ministry. I am one of the results of the ministry of this church from 50+ years ago. Many of you have been faithful to this ministry for even longer. I know the good shepherd looks down on this part of his flock and smiles, and I pray you will continue to lead others to gates of heaven, just as you have been doing. Amen.


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

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.

April 13, 2023

Some Thoughts on Inerrancy

He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your ancestors had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.[1]

Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.[2]

Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.[3]

Again Jesus said, “Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.” And with that he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”[4]

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile. For in the gospel the righteousness of God is revealed—a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: “The righteous will live by faith.”[5]

All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God p may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.[6]

For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.[7]

Bear in mind that our Lord’s patience means salvation, just as our dear brother Paul also wrote you with the wisdom that God gave him. He writes the same way in all his letters, speaking in them of these matters. His letters contain some things that are hard to understand, which ignorant and unstable people distort, as they do the other Scriptures, to their own destruction.[8]

The other night, just before I was ready to turn in, a long-time acquaintance and friend, Terry, IM’d me and asked me about biblical inerrancy. I hadn’t really given that much thought since seminary because I’ve been pretty settled on the issue for some time, but I thought I’d put down a few of my thoughts that came to mind as he and I briefly chatted.

  1. I believe 2 Timothy 3 that God’s word is inspired, that is, God-breathed. However, I also believe he speaks it both directly and through his fallible servants in a fallen world. He did this through his prophets in an authoritative way, but I don’t doubt that they may have added “local color” to their prophecies.
  2. I believe Jesus commissioned his apostles (and perhaps a few of their successors) with an ex cathedra authority, tempered by mutual accountability, to establish the primitive structure of the early Christian communities, the core doctrines of the faith, and vital practices to share and spread that faith. I do not believe this ex cathedra authority survived past the first or second generation of believers.
  3. I believe the historical books of the OT, from Genesis through Kings and Chronicles, were collated from extant copies of original writings and official journals. Some of these texts have obvious signs of an editor long after the recorded events took place (e.g., 2 Chronicles 20:26).
  4. I believe the Hebrews had in place a diligent process to copy their texts to ensure their accuracy and fidelity from one generation of texts to the next.
  5. I believe the NT autographs (original letters and Gospels) were without error doctrinally and textually. However, since we can be relatively certain that none of these have survived the ravagees of time, this statement has qualified significance. As the letters were copied in scriptoriums, human error inevitably made its way into the successive copies.
  6. I believe the science of the study of textual transmission is more than sufficient in most cases to identify when and where these errors entered into the text and which of the variant readings are the most reliable. I do not believe any of the disputed variations affect any doctrine of Scripture, especially since most doctrines do not rely solely on any one single text. The eclectic Greek text is the best modern version to use, as it takes into account the opinions and research of several qualified scholars.
  7. I believe “the Church of Christ on earth is essentially, intentionally, and constitutionally one”[9]; the differences we see among and within denominational traditions are reflections of the diversity of God’s kingdom. If we can appreciate the diversity in God’s creation, with hundreds of different varieties within each species, then why should we expect that the local manifestations of the church be copycats? I do not believe that such diversity, by itself, disqualifies the Scriptures in any way.
  8. I believe that anyone who can hear or read the Word of God translated into their own language, regardless of version, can understand and respond to the Gospel at its most basic level. The study of the Word of God in its original languages adds depth and color to the story and may convince some who think the principles taught therein are archaic, pedantic, or irrelevant.
  9. I believe that above all else, love for one another founded in the love God has shown and is still showing us is the highest virtue for the Christ-follower at least, and for all humanity generally, regardless of their belief. Love is necessary for the survival of the human race; faith and faithfulness are necessary for salvation; hope is necessary for our security in the faith and our strength to love one another. All other arguments pale in comparison to the power and testimony of faith, hope, and love.

Of course, this list is nowhere close to exhaustive, but I pray that it gets you, the reader, thinking about what you believe about Scripture and the testimony you bear as Christ-followers. Peace to all!

My thoughts are my own, and annotated when borrowed from elsewhere.

NOTE: If you have some other Scriptures you’d like to add on the reliability of God’s word, feel free to add them in the Comments section. I’d love to hear from you!

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.


[1] Deuteronomy 8:3. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[2] Psalm 119:105. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[3] Luke 21:33. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[4] John 20:21–23. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[5] Romans 1:16–17. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[6] 2 Timothy 3:16–17. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[7] Hebrews 4:12. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[8] 2 Peter 3:15–16. The New International Version. 2011. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

[9] Campbell, Thomas. Declaration and Address.

March 12, 2023

A Woman, a Well, and Worshipping God (John 4; Romans 5:1–11)

I preached this message on March 12, 2023, Third Sunday in Lent, at Mt. View Presbyterian Church. The Gospel text was pretty much the entire chapter of John 4, so instead of reading all that, I showed a clip from The Chosen, Season 1, Episode 8, where Jesus encounters the woman at the well. 03/08/26 update: I repurposed this message for this morning’s message and remembered to record the message this time, so I’ve attached it above.

Someone might think John was trying to create scandal from the very first words of his Gospel. In the first couple verses, he claims Jesus is God and was present at creation. The Jewish leaders would have considered that blasphemy. John the Baptizer, who is NOT the same John who wrote this gospel, goes on to claim he is the one sent to prepare the way for the Messiah, and upon Jesus’s baptism, John declares him to be the Son of God.

Then, instead of picking the leading religious rulers of his day, Jesus chooses a few fishermen and other average, everyday men to be in his band of disciples. After that, instead of his first miracle being a healing or exorcism, he decides to make about 180 gallons of premium wine so the party can keep going at the wedding. Then John throws in a story about Jesus cleansing the temple of the money changers and about how he’ll be able to rebuild the temple in three days if it’s destroyed. In John 3, he declares that belief in him ensures eternal life. Again, probably grounds for blasphemy if he were just an ordinary man.

And so we come to John chapter 4, and the scandalous behavior continues. How dare he travel through Samaria! His disciples would have rather walked the extra distance around Samaria rather than soil their sandals with the dust of that land. How dare he talk to a Samaritan woman, let alone ask her for a drink from Jacob’s well, especially when the rest of his followers aren’t around. Don’t you know, Jesus, that we’re not supposed to even touch the Samaritans let alone eat and drink with them?

Many of you know that the Gospel of John is unique in that it has many stories about Jesus’s ministry that are not reflected in the synoptic Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Many think that John may have organized his Gospel theologically rather than chronologically. For example, the story of Jesus clearing the temple, which is found in chapter 2 of John’s gospel, is placed in the last week of Jesus’s ministry. It’s not clear whether this is the same story, or if there were two different episodes when Jesus cleared the temple.

Jesus is in the land of his ancestors, so it seems fitting, at least to John, that Jesus would want to reveal himself first to his ancestors.

For the sake of argument, then, I’m going to assume there’s a theological message John is trying to get across here: He establishes Jesus is fully divine and that God is his Father. Since he’s God’s “only begotten” on Earth, Jesus then is the primary authority in the Temple, which the Jews believed was home of God’s presence. Finally, Jesus, having been established as the authority for the Jewish religion, essentially abolishes the long-standing prejudice against Samaria by going to the place where his ancestor Judah’s father, Jacob (renamed Israel) first established himself in the Promised Land after returning from Laban’s home. I think this aspect of the story lends to its credibility and to the principle of worship he puts forth.

One of the most important things to note about this encounter with the woman is that Jesus actually takes the time to have a real conversation with the woman, although he slowly reveals that he knows more about her than she thinks he knows. Jesus is in the land of his ancestors, so it seems fitting, at least to John, that Jesus would want to reveal himself first to his ancestors. That would be like me going to the Stocking Township, named after my great, great, great grandfather in the Wahoo area, or perhaps even to the historic site of the 12th-century Stocking Abbey in England, where my ancestors likely came from and ministering to a congregation in either of those places.

So what can we learn from the encounter between Jesus and this woman? The first thing is that Jesus did not recognize the ethnic boundaries that existed in his day and age. The Samaritans followed only the Torah, the five books of Moses, but not the prophets who came later. So they were a people who had deep Jewish roots, but because the Northern Kingdom had been conquered within a couple generations of rise of the prophets and the prohibition against intermarriage had been abandoned, they had little connection to the prophets and they were no longer considered “pure” Jews. The Jews considered them unclean. That didn’t matter to Jesus, though. He wanted the Samaritans to know that a “prophet” had returned to the area after some 700 years,

Because the Jews considered Samaritans unclean, they weren’t permitted to eat or drink from any of any of their plates or vessels. And the fact that she was divorced several times, well beyond what Jewish law would have permitted to remain in good standing, added to her social stigma among her own people not to mention the Jews. This is another barrier that Jesus would shatter: that it was okay to eat and drink with “sinners” and other outcasts like tax collectors.

The other New Testament text from today’s lectionary reading is Romans 5:1–11. Verses 6–8 say this:

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.[1]

Did you catch that? This is really important to understand. When we cry out to God for help, does he say “Quit your womanizing! Quit lying! Quit getting drunk! Then you can come to me and I’ll consider your request?” By no means! That passage doesn’t say Christ died for those who’ve cleaned up their lives first. It says Christ died for the ungodly, while we were still sinners! That sounds like we can have a great weight lifted from us so we can see more hope and more light at the end of whatever dark tunnel sin has led us through. God loves us even before we realize that his love is the greatest gift of all, even when we think we may not be worthy of it. That’s grace!

The offer of “living water” is the centerpiece of the story. Parts of this story hearken back to Isaiah 49:6 and 10, a prophecy about the Servant of the Lord and the restoration of Israel:

And now the Lord says—

he who formed me in the womb to be his servant

to bring Jacob back to him

and gather Israel to himself,

for I am honored in the eyes of the Lord

and my God has been my strength—

he says:

“It is too small a thing for you to be my servant

to restore the tribes of Jacob

and bring back those of Israel I have kept.

I will also make you a light for the Gentiles,

that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.

10 They will neither hunger nor thirst,

nor will the desert heat or the sun beat down on them.

He who has compassion on them will guide them

and lead them beside springs of water. [2]

This woman seems to have been suffering for some time because she felt like she needed to draw water in the heat of the day. We don’t know very much about her personal life aside from the divorces; no indication she had any children or what her current relationship was like. This leads us to another principle at play here: Don’t be afraid to speak to someone about whatever it is in their life that is holding them back from a full and vibrant relationship with God. Now Jesus had some special knowledge of her situation here, so he holds the advantage, but it’s for her benefit ultimately. Once he discloses what he knows about her marital status, she understands not only that Jesus is a prophet, but she also believes his claim that he is the Messiah and shared that convincingly with many people in her town.

Don’t be afraid to speak to someone about whatever it is in their life that is holding them back from a full and vibrant relationship with God.

Jeremiah mentions a couple times (2:13; 17:13) about how his listeners have “forsaken the LORD, the spring of living water.” But Zechariah, when prophesying about the second coming of Christ and the consummation of history, says this in 14:8:

On that day living water will flow out from Jerusalem, half of it east to the Dead Sea and half of it west to the Mediterranean Sea, in summer and in winter.

The Lord will be king over the whole earth. On that day there will be one Lord, and his name the only name.[3]

This is the ultimate and absolute promise of fulfillment we can look forward to when we humble ourselves before God and accept his free gifts of reconciliation and salvation. God will be in total control. No more crying, pain, or grief, just living eternally in the glory of God’s light.

Turning back to Romans 5 for a moment, Paul describes what happens when we come into that justification, and the woman seems to have experienced that, especially with respect to addressing the own suffering she had experienced for so long. Listen to verses 1–5:

Therefore, since we have been justified through the faithfulness [of Christ], we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by his faithfulness into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. [4]

The final takeaway from this passage is how Jesus is overturning the traditions (and exclusions) about worship. The woman was upset about how the Jews thought the Temple in Jerusalem was the only place you could really worship God. In fact, it seems like she’s trying to use that to get out of talking about her marital history. But Jesus assures her that a new way of worship has arrived. The place no longer matters; what matters is expressing her true feelings and emotions from her heart, soul, and mind to praise God for all he’s done for her. It’s that joy that causes her to leave her water jars behind and hurry back to her people proclaiming, “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Messiah?”[5]

John notes that the woman at the well was responsible, by virtue of her testimony, for many in her town believing, and they had that testimony confirmed by Jesus himself, because he stayed there a few days preaching and teaching. They knew the joy of personal justification and reconciliation with God. They also found the hope of eternal life as well. Listen to Romans 5:9–11:

Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! 10 For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! 11 Not only is this so, but we also boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.[6]

My prayer for you this Lenten and Easter season is that you know the salvation of God and receive it with joy just as the woman at the well did. Let us hold fast to our faith and hope and continue to reach out to those who need to experience God’s love, forgiveness, compassion and grace. 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.

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

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

May 15, 2022

Jesus, the Good Shepherd (John 10:22–30)

Author’s Note: I preached this sermon on Mother’s Day (05/08/22) at Mt. View Presbyterian Church. The text is lightly edited for publication. For a related post, see “I Am the Door of the Sheep”; “I Am the Good Shepherd” (John 10:7, 11). Additional Note: I preached this sermon again on March 11, 2025, which is when I recorded the audio. Prior to that, from March through Mother’s Day, this message was viewed over 700 times, outpacing my otherwise most popular article. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy the addition of an audio file. I retained the original text of the sermon.

I mentioned last week how the challenge of preaching from the lectionary texts has served to sharpen my preaching and academic skills. But this week’s texts presented an additional challenge for me, because none of them lined up with today’s special designation on our social and cultural calendars: Mother’s Day. What’s a preacher to do!?!

Well, fortunately, God gave me a unique 7-pound mass of gray matter that never ceases to amaze my wife with the connections I can make between seemingly unconnected concepts. At least, I think I amaze her. She would probably tell you I befuddle and bewilder her and then roll her eyes for emphasis. But anyway, I digress. Although I can’t make my whole message about motherhood based on the text today, I can highlight some principles of motherhood that undergird Jesus’s ministry and apply them to our situations.

Jesus in His Father’s House

To set the stage for our text today, we need to go back to Jesus’s preteen years, when he was only 12 years old, probably his “coming of age” year as a young Jewish male. Jesus’s family had gone to Jerusalem every year for the Passover, and that year was no exception. Only this time, according to Luke 2, Jesus decided to give his parents the scare of their lives by staying behind in Jerusalem while his parents headed back to Nazareth. His parents didn’t realize this until about a day later, because they thought he was hanging out with the other kids in the caravan they were travelling with.

It took them three days to find him, and when they did find him, he was in the temple courts hanging out with the teachers of the law. They were “amazed [ἐξίστημι (existēmi)] at Jesus’s understanding and answers.” In other words, they couldn’t believe their ears that such wisdom was coming from a 12-year-old boy. On the other hand, his parents were “astonished” or “overwhelmed” [ἐκπλήσσομαι (ekplēssomai)] that he was apparently commanding so much respect from the teachers of the law, let alone that he had managed to survive half a week in Jerusalem without his parents.

Jesus’s response to his earthly parents I think has been largely underappreciated or at least underemphasized in most circles: “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” (Luke 2:49). Now every Jewish mother expected her boy might someday be the Messiah, but Mary knew it for a fact that Jesus was the Messiah. So Jesus’s response here may be the first time the implications of his conception and birth really hit her: Jesus IS the Son of God.

Luke says that Mary “treasured these things in her heart,” which probably meant that she had a choice to make about being the mother of the Son of God. Any other Jewish mother would have encouraged her son to follow in his father’s footsteps. But Jesus had a “stepfather,” if you will, in Joseph the carpenter as well as his true father, the God of the universe. So we can make an educated guess at this point that, not only did Mary and Joseph encourage Jesus to be a carpenter, but they also had to respect that his true home was the temple, where God was said to live. It’s fairly easy to assume then, that they continued the annual trips to the temple (perhaps at least three times per year) to help him develop and maintain that connection, at least until Jesus struck out on his own.

Jesus’s love for the temple, which he had such a special, passionate connection to, seems to be a main focus of John’s gospel, wherein lies our text for this morning. Now think about this for a minute: John’s first story about Jesus in the temple is Jesus chasing out the money changers. And what does he say? “Stop turning my Father’s house into a market!” If the temple is his father’s house, then isn’t it technically his house too as the son of God? As God’s earthly representative, Jesus has sort of a default power of attorney over the temple and must protect the honor of his father and the integrity of his father’s house. For Jesus, then, clearing the temple wasn’t just an act of righteous indignation, but a deeply personal act of protecting his family honor. I must admit that this thought didn’t occur to me until just this week as I was preparing my message. This is the kind of passion you can expect when a good mother—and a good father—instill in their children a profound respect for family and home.

Seven of the 21 chapters in John place Jesus at the temple in all or part of the chapters. This is one feature that sets the gospel of John apart from the other three gospels. Sure, John does have Jesus ministering in locations outside of Jerusalem, like the wedding at Cana and the feeding of the multitudes. But he always comes back to the temple or a festival at the temple.

Jesus: The Gate and the Good Shepherd

That’s where we find ourselves in today’s passage, John 10:22–30. Jesus has come to the Festival of Dedication, what we know today as Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights, to participate in the celebration and do a little more teaching as well. He uses the metaphor of sheep in his discussion, which fits right in with two “I am” statements John records in the first part of chapter 10: “I am the good shepherd [ποιμήν (poimēn)],” and “I am the gate [θύρα (thyra)] for the sheep.” In fact, John 10–14 would seem to be the core of John’s gospel, because we also have two more “I am” statements in that section: “I am the resurrection and the life,” and “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”

So how does this all tie together? And why is Jesus using the imagery of sheep here? His first “I am” statement in John 10 is perhaps the biggest clue. When he says, “I am the gate for the sheep,” he’s most likely standing very near the Sheep Gate, one of the ancient entrances into Jerusalem, which is within 100 feet of the outer court of the Temple, the Court of the Gentiles. The Sheep Gate was so important given its proximity to the temple that Nehemiah (3:1) lists it as the first gate the Israelites repaired when they returned to Jerusalem. John’s first account of Jesus healing someone is in chapter 5, where Jesus healed a man who had been lame for 38 years at the pool of Bethesda near the Sheep Gate.

The other thing Jesus says about being the gate for the sheep is significant: “Through me, whoever enters will be saved.” That sounds very much like “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” in John 14:6. Another way to look at this is that John arranges this core section of his gospel with the two “I am” statements where Jesus says he’s the only way at the beginning and end.

Now Jesus saying that he’s the gate for the sheep leads naturally into Jesus’s next “I am” statement: “I am the good shepherd.” The shepherd fulfills multiple roles while he’s tending his flock. He serves as protector of the flock, fighting off wolves, predators, and thieves in the wilderness. Of course, these are roles we’d typically assign to a father, especially in Jesus’s day. But the shepherd also helps the ewes give birth and tends to any injured sheep, roles we would typically assign to, wait for it, mothers! See what I did there? I snuck that reference into my Mother’s Day message, wink and a nod.

And why can Jesus say he’s a good shepherd? Well in part, it’s because he healed that man at the Sheep Gate a few chapters earlier. But that’s not all. Jesus gives a pretty full explanation of what it means to be a shepherd. Here are the highlights:

  • The shepherd knows his sheep by name.
  • The sheep know the shepherd’s voice and to follow the shepherd’s voice; they won’t follow a stranger’s voice.
  • The shepherd will lead them to fertile pastures.
  • The shepherd ensures the sheep will have a full and abundant life (sounds kind of like “I am the resurrection and the life,” right?)
  • The shepherd will not abandon the sheep when danger is present; in fact, he will lay down his life for the sheep.

So with this background in mind, let’s read again today’s passage.

22 Then came the Festival of Dedication at Jerusalem. It was winter, 23 and Jesus was in the temple courts walking in Solomon’s Colonnade. 24 The Jews who were there gathered around him, saying, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.”

25 Jesus answered, “I did tell you, but you do not believe. The works I do in my Father’s name testify about me, 26 but you do not believe because you are not my sheep. 27 My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. 28 I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. 29 My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. 30 I and the Father are one.” [1]

John 10:22–30

The Jews want to know if Jesus is the Messiah, but many of the Jews are probably still thinking of a political Messiah who will overthrow the rule of Rome from their lives and restore a theocracy again, or at least something akin to what they had in the days of David and Solomon. Jesus’s response is a bit cryptic, as it usually is. He doesn’t want people to believe because he’s told them so. He wants people to look at what he’s done in the way of his miracles and teaching and figure it out for themselves. Figuring it out for yourself is always more convincing than just being told outright, right? Jesus’s followers know him and recognize him for who he is. They made the sacrifice to follow him, learn from him, and grow closer to God in him. They were the “sheep” following the shepherd. I don’t use that term in a disparaging way, of course. His followers put their trust in him, and Jesus proved faithful with that trust. But those who haven’t been following him or are just casual observers, they can’t believe because they don’t have the experience with him just yet.

Recognizing the Shepherd’s Voice

I think vs. 27 is the most important concept to grasp here. “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” How is it we can get to a place where we can distinguish the Savior’s voice from all the other noise around us? I’m going to include another motherly fact here: audiologists say that between 6 and 7 months in the womb, a baby begins to recognize their mother’s voice and respond consistently. That’s two to three months BEFORE they’re born! How about you? When did you first realize God was speaking to you, calling you into his fold? Are you able to look back on your life and recognize, “Hey, maybe God was talking to me in this or that situation and I didn’t even realize it!” I’m sure he was talking to you even before you made your faith your own.

Another way we recognize God’s voice is by staying engaged with his word. I will never forget the time when I was a campus minister at Northern Illinois University, and our ministry operated some student housing. We had one resident who wasn’t working; he claimed God didn’t want him to work. Unfortunately, that meant he never had money to pay his rent. I guess he thought it would somehow magically fall from the sky and into his pockets. However, somehow, he always had money for food. When we finally confronted him about this, including Scriptures about working to provide for yourself (Eph 4:28; 1 Thess 5:14; 2 Thess 3:6–13, esp. v. 10), his response floored me: “I can’t help it if I’m more spiritual and you’re more scriptural.” In other words, he thought the Holy Spirit was telling him to do something that contradicted the word of God! I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that. The more we get into God’s word, the more we understand what he wants for our lives.

Assurance of Eternal Life

In the final part of this passage, we see that the good shepherd has given us eternal life; “life” without end. On the one hand, that means life to the fullest, as he promised earlier in the chapter. On the other hand, that means we have the promise of his resurrection, which he affirms in chapter 11 not only by saying he is the resurrection and the life, but by raising Lazarus from the dead as well. Not only do we have this eternal life, but we have the promise that, as long as we abide in him, nothing will ever overcome or nullify that promise of eternal life.

Paul reaffirms this in Romans 8:38–39:

38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:38–39

Conclusion

To bring this to a close, I want to look briefly at chapters 12 & 13, the rest of this core section of John’s gospel, to grasp how Jesus further demonstrates himself as the good shepherd. In chapter 12, we see Jesus anointed with perfume in preparation for his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, which we looked at a few weeks ago. In chapter 13, we see the true servant nature of Jesus as he washes the disciples’ feet. He’s also preparing his disciples for when he departs from them after his crucifixion and resurrection, although they don’t seem to fully comprehend that. He’s truly ready and preparing for the time when he’d have to lay down his life for his sheep.

Are you a member of God’s flock? Are you part of the fold? Now is the time if you’re not. Reach out to the Father and ask him for forgiveness and acceptance, while pledging your life to be part of his kingdom.


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

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April 10, 2022

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

Press play to hear the message. I had forgotten to record this the day of the message, so I recorded it at home. My apologies for the cat chiming in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      8 “Judah, your brothers will praise you;

         your hand will be on the neck of your enemies;

         your father’s sons will bow down to you.

      9 You are a lion’s cub, Judah;

         you return from the prey, my son.

         Like a lion he crouches and lies down,

         like a lioness—who dares to rouse him?

      10 The scepter will not depart from Judah,

         nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet,

         until he to whom it belongs shall come

         and the obedience of the nations shall be his.

      11 He will tether his donkey to a vine,

         his colt to the choicest branch;

         he will wash his garments in wine,

         his robes in the blood of grapes.

      12 His eyes will be darker than wine,

         his teeth whiter than milk.

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

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

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

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

      9 Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!

         Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!

         See, your king comes to you,

         righteous and victorious,

         lowly and riding on a donkey,

         on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

      10 I will take away the chariots from Ephraim

         and the warhorses from Jerusalem,

         and the battle bow will be broken.

         He will proclaim peace to the nations.

         His rule will extend from sea to sea

         and from the River to the ends of the earth.

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

         I will free your prisoners from the waterless pit.

      12 Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope;

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

      13 I will bend Judah as I bend my bow

         and fill it with Ephraim.

         I will rouse your sons, Zion,

         against your sons, Greece,

         and make you like a warrior’s sword.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

February 19, 2022

From Wine to the Vine

Historical Note: This sermon is based on one of my earlier articles on the Seven “I Am” Statements of Jesus. I preached the sermon (in its current form) at Wheeler Grove Church on January 16, 2022, and at Mount View Presbyterian Church two weeks later.

In my message on Halloween Day, I walked us through Jesus’s miracle of raising Lazarus from the dead and his corresponding “I am” statement, “I am the resurrection and the life.” Of the seven “I am” statements Jesus makes in John, and the seven miracles, or “signs,” of Jesus that John records in his gospel, those two are the closest in the text, and of course most closely related.

This morning, I want to look at another related combination of an “I am” statement and a miracle of Jesus. Only this time, the two are about as far apart as they could be in John’s gospel. Jesus’s first miracle, turning water into wine at the wedding in Cana in chapter 2, and Jesus’s final “I am” statement in John 15: “I am the true vine.” His final “I am” statement comes in the middle of his final instructions to the disciples after the Last Supper and before his final prayer and arrest.

These two stories form “bookends” for the core of John’s gospel because they represent one of the key messages of Scripture: the power of and in the blood of Jesus. Now you may wonder why my sermon title is “From Wine to Vine,” especially since the process of making wine works the other way, but that’s the way they’re ordered in the gospel, so I’m going to respect that order. Let’s take a look at the miracle first: turning water into wine.

Read John 2:1–10

John opens his gospel with a profound statement of the incarnation: God’s only son has come to us as a human being, experiencing the fullness of life, from birth in a stable through the “terrible twos” (if that even applied to Jesus), the challenges of puberty, and into adolescence and adulthood. John also emphasizes in the opening chapter that Jesus is the light, something Jesus will affirm some time later with another “I am” statement. It shouldn’t surprise us that Jesus’s first miracle has to do with a basic, joyful human celebration: that of a wedding.

Wine is an interesting choice for a first miracle, because the OT has a mixed bag of opinion about wine, depending on the word the Hebrews used for it. The most common word for wine is connected to violence, poverty, and anguish in Proverbs; drunkenness in several other places; and is forbidden for those who take the Nazarite vow as Samson did.

But since Jesus is the one making about 180 gallons of premium vino, I think we’re okay looking at some of the positive uses of wine in the OT.

Melchizedek, who is seen as a Christ figure in Genesis, brings out bread and wine to Abraham after a military victory. It was often used as a drink offering in sacrificial or other sacramental rites. Psalm 104:14–15 says this about God’s provision:

14 He makes grass grow for the cattle,

and plants for people to cultivate—

bringing forth food from the earth:

15 wine that gladdens human hearts,

oil to make their faces shine,

and bread that sustains their hearts.[1]

Psalm 104:14–15

Solomon, as you might imagine, had a positive view of wine and understood the joy it could bring to life:

Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for God has already approved what you do.[2]

Ecclesiastes 9:7 

And again,

A feast is made for laughter,

wine makes life merry,

and money is the answer for everything. [3]

Ecclesiastes 10:19 

Even the Greeks were concerned about the proper use of wine, and this may in fact reflect some of Solomon’s own philosophy. I came across this quote from Plato’s Laws while doing some other research recently. The discussion involves rules about wine for various age groups: They prohibited wine to those under 18 years old, saying it would have poured “fire upon fire” of unchecked youthful desire. They allowed young men under 30 to drink wine in moderation. But my favorite part of this description is what they allow for us old folks:

But when a man has reached the age of forty, he may join in the convivial gatherings and invoke Dionysus, above all other gods, inviting his presence at the rite (which is also the recreation) of the elders, which he bestowed on mankind as a medicine potent against the crabbedness of old age, that thereby we men may renew our youth, and that, through forgetfulness of care, the temper of our souls [666c] may lose its hardness and become softer and more ductile, even as iron when it has been forged in the fire.

Plato, Laws, 665–666, emphasis mine

Now don’t get me wrong: I’m not endorsing the drunken parties of Dionysus, Greco-Roman god of wine. That text goes on to say that the purpose of the wine was to loosen tongues of those who were afraid to sing the praises of Dionysus amongst their friends. I most certainly do not endorse that practice as a way pep up a church’s worship service! All kidding aside, though, the point is, they did consider wine from their own worldview as something that made life merrier, a little more bearable, but seemingly only in its proper context.

The Old Testament also had a separate word for “new wine” (תִּיר֖וֹשׁ tirōwsh) that is, wine from the current year’s harvest. It was not fermented as much as older wine, so it was not as sweet, but the literature of the day still suggests you could get drunk on it. This new wine is usually spoken of positively in the OT. The NT didn’t really have a special word for “new wine,” so the author would have to use the word “new” if they wanted to specify “new wine.” Jesus’s wine is obviously “new,” but the fact that it was far superior to the wine served initially suggests it wasn’t the typical “new wine,” nor was it even comparable to the old wine.

Jesus’s first miracle saved the wedding. It saved the host from the terrible embarrassment of running out of wine. Jesus thought that much of celebrating the joys of life here on earth that he was willing to create 180 gallons of premium wine to keep the party going. But that’s only a small part of the picture here with this miracle. There’s a seemingly innocuous fact in vs. 6 that we should pay attention to. John says the stone water jars were “the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing”[4] (καθαρισμός katharismos) or “purification” as some translations have it. We see the concept of purification or washing in the next passage we’ll look at, Jesus’s last “I am” statement, “I am the true vine.” It’s also should not go unnoticed that there’s a connection here between wine and the concept of ceremonial cleansing. Sound familiar?

[Note on katharismos: The -ismos ending added to the Greek root typically indicates an intensification of the base meaning of the root word. It’s not just “clean,” but “clean through and through, inside and out,” which is what one should expect from a ceremonial cleansing.]

Read John 15:1–10

This passage comes in the midst of Jesus’s final instructions to his disciples. The last half of John’s gospel, from chapter 12 on, covers the last week of Jesus’s life on earth and his resurrection. John gives us a great deal more detail what happened between the Last Supper and his arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane than the other gospels do. In chapter 14, he describes the ministry and role of the Holy Spirit. In 15, he reassures them that they can still be connected to him when he’s gone. In 16, he prepares them for the struggles ahead. And in 17, he prays for his disciples and all of us who come after them that we would be secure in our faith.

The vine metaphor is pretty straightforward to understand. A vine has one root structure with a bunch of branches that spread out, attaching to whatever it can find around it, even to the ground itself. Jesus is that singular root from which we all derive. In order to remain fruitful, we need to stay connected to the main vine and its root structure. And this is the goal of our lives: not just to be Christ followers but fruit bearers. Jesus extends this further: not only should we remain in Jesus, we should also remain in his love by showing love to those around us.

Now the word “vine” isn’t found in the wine miracle, and the word “wine” isn’t found in the “vine” story. But vs. 3, which seems to come out of nowhere, makes the connection with wine miracle: “You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you.” The word for “clean” is from the same root (καθαρός katharos) as the word for “washing” or “purification” in the miracle story.

Perhaps by now, you know where I’m headed with this connection between the two passages, and how they form the thematic bookends of the gospel of John. In chapter 13, John’s version of the Last Supper with details not found in the other three gospel accounts, Jesus washes his disciples’ feet, and addresses Peter’s objection by saying, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.” In vs. 10, Jesus says, “Those who have had a bath need only to wash their feet; their whole body is clean.” There’s that word “clean” again.

So these two very different stories we’ve looked at have a common thread, even if that thread isn’t the main message of the stories: the concept of being cleansed in a spiritual sense. I think this cuts to the heart of how the people in Jesus’s day felt about themselves spiritually: beat down by the culture around them while trying to abide by a rigorous legalistic application of God’s laws. They felt like they had no hope of freedom, no hope of ever feeling like they were truly right with their God. Jesus comes to bring joy and to assure the people that they are and can continue to be connected to their God.

If we look at the Last Supper stories in the other gospels, we get a better idea of just what Jesus means by “clean.” In Matthew, when Jesus takes the cup and blesses it, he says, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”[5] This, of course, is a far cry from Plato’s “potent medicine against the crabbedness of old age”! Jesus forgives us, cleanses us, and makes us complete in him.

So we see how John has woven the theme of the cleansing blood of Jesus throughout his gospel, with miracle of the wine in the ceremonial washing jars, the “I am the true vine” statement, John’s unique account of the Last Supper, the “True Vine” statement, and the theme of cleansing therein.

So the next time you have Communion, or even the next time you read the gospel of John, consider how Jesus, from the very beginning of his ministry, was concerned not just with enjoying life on earth, but about assuring us that we can be forgiven of our sins and made pure and righteous in him. Peace and safety to you all in the new year, and thank you for asking me back again. I am truly enjoying these opportunities to share with you.


[1] The New International Version (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), Ps 104:14–15.

[2] The New International Version (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), Ec 9:7.

[3] The New International Version (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), Ec 10:19.

[4] The New International Version (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), Jn 2:6.

[5] The New International Version (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), Mt 26:28.

May 19, 2021

What Makes God Weep?

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

Introduction

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

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

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

In the passage we’re looking at today, we see Jesus’s countercultural attitude toward life, at least countercultural in his day and age. Jesus did not think life was cheap. He valued the individual, regardless of their rank in life, and even regardless of the type of life they led. We will also see perhaps the most intense display of Jesus’s humanity as well as glimpses into his divine nature.

What Makes God Weep?

As we come to the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead in John 11, we will see the full range of Jesus’s human and divine natures. Even though “all the fullness of the Deity dwells within him,” he is still fully human as well, so much so that the Gospel writers record Jesus using the title “Son of Man” for himself.

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

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

But either Martha knows she’s stuck her foot in her mouth after that first statement, or she really has been thinking about what her second statement would be: “But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.” Does that statement represent genuine concern, or is it more like a backhanded control freak statement? “I’ve waited four days for you to get here, Jesus, so you owe me big time!”

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

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

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

Read John 11:32–33a.

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

Read John 11:33-35

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

Now Jesus’s weeping is not a sudden outburst that isn’t expected in the story. John, in fact, is building up the tension in the story to that climax. Look back at the end of vs. 33: John says Jesus is “deeply moved” and “troubled.” In the original language of the Scripture, that word is perhaps the strongest expression of “negative” emotion one could have. In Matthew 9:30, Jesus “sternly warned” the blind man not to say who healed him. That would have been akin to Jesus saying something like, “Don’t you dare, in a million years, tell anyone who did this to you.” At Jesus’s anointing in Bethany, where the prostitute broke an alabaster jar over Jesus’s head and let the perfume run down him, we’re told that those present (except for Jesus) “rebuked her sharply,” probably even to the extent of cursing her or reminding her in no uncertain terms about her profession.

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

Now I want to suggest something here that has probably never occurred to you: The main focus of John’s account of this story here is NOT that Jesus raises someone from the dead eventually. Jesus has already done several amazing miracles to this point, building up to the raising of Lazarus as the greatest of his miracles. Another miracle? I’m impressed of course, but not surprised. John has already hinted to us that that is going to happen in the story, with Jesus’s “I am” statement and Martha’s statement. Keep in mind that John, in his short epistles toward the end of the NT, is fighting against Gnosticism, a belief that nothing done in the body matters at all for eternal salvation. When John says, “Jesus wept,” he’s acknowledging that God considers human life precious and valuable; that the body does matter for our earthly existence. That’s why “Jesus wept” is at the center of this whole story. He intends this show of Jesus’s humanity as the highlight and climax of the story.

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

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

Read John 11:38–40

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

Read John 11:41–44

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

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

The third short verse precedes “pray continually” in 1 Thessalonians 5: “Rejoice always.” In the last part of v. 44, Jesus loses all the tension he’s been feeling to this point. I’m sure he’s got a huge smile across his face at this point, as do all those who’ve seen Lazarus rise from the dead and walk out of the grave. Jesus’s happiness, smile, and dare I say laughter are all additional profound insights into Jesus’s human side. The savior who weeps with us in our time of sorrow rejoices with us in our time of joy.

Conclusion/Call to Action

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

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

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

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

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.

My views are my own.

June 24, 2012

Scandalous Living

This past weekend, I finished leading our men’s group in a nine-week study through John Eldredge‘s Beautiful Outlaw. The subtitle of the book is “Experiencing the Playful, Disruptive, Extravagant Personality of Jesus,” which should clue you in as to the subject of the book. The basic premise of the book is this: because Jesus is the incarnation of God, every aspect of his personality has the divine imprint. If God the Father could be human, Jesus is the ultimate and unique example of how God the Father would live on this earth. Every aspect of Jesus’s personality is perfect in human form: his sense of humor, generosity, conversation, passions, playfulness, love, relationships, and so forth all emanate from his Father, God the Father (John 5:19).

Breaking Barriers

Jesus went places where good Jews of his day avoided. Jesus spoke to men and women of ethnic backgrounds the Jews despised. Jesus broke the barriers of cultural taboos by reaching out to and even touching the “untouchables.” Jesus challenged the religiosity of the status quo to shed a fresh new light on what it meant to be a God-follower. Unfortunately, too many Christians, both individually and collectively in various expressions of the church, have exalted Jesus to so heavenly a status that they have forgotten he had his human side. Lest I be misunderstood, Jesus’s human side was kept in check by his divine nature, something you and I don’t have. He had no sin. We can get away with saying, “I’m only human.” But Jesus can’t. Jesus was humanity at its best because he was divinely empowered to live the human life. So the church needs to take a closer look at not just the words he said, but the things he did and the way he lived here on terra firma.

The Samaritan Taboo

The story of Jesus’s encounter with the woman at the well in John 4 is a perfect example. In vs. 4, John says of Jesus, “It was necessary for him to travel through Samaria” (my translation). Similar constructions elsewhere in the New Testament are often translated “He must.” If Jews wanted to go north and south from Galilee to Jerusalem, the direct route was through Samaria. But since Jews hated Samaritans with such a passion, they would often cross over to the east side of the Jordan River and travel the longer route rather than set foot in Samaritan territory. Why was it necessary for him to go through Samaria? Because that’s what his Father wanted him to do!

Now when Jesus and the disciples arrive, Jesus breaks two taboos (at least). First, he talks to a Samaritan, the most despised class of people to the Jews. That’s bad enough in the eyes of the religious elite of the day. But this Samaritan is also a woman, and it was certainly not the norm for a Jewish male to talk to any woman alone in public (the disciples had gone off to buy food). I think it is important to note that in talking with this woman who in on her sixth “husband,” who has come out to the well at an unusual time of day, that Jesus never actually condemns the woman in any way or outright says that she’s living a sinful life, although the latter could be implied from his statement that her current “man” is not her husband. Historical and modern scholars have mostly inferred that the woman has a questionable character from the circumstantial evidence in the text. But just as he would later refuse to condemn the woman caught in adultery (variant reading in John 8), he does not speak words of condemnation here, only words of life.

A third taboo may be implied as well, although I find some mixed evidence in the Mishnah (the written interpretation of Jewish oral law generally accepted or debated at the time of Jesus). Drinking or eating from a Samaritan vessel may have been frowned upon as well. In some passages in the Mishnah, Samaritan offerings are acceptable, whereas some gentile offerings are specifically forbidden or given a lower status. However, Shebiith 8:10 says that Rabbi Eliezer considered eating Samaritan bread equivalent to eating the flesh of swine. If the disciples went off to a Samaritan town to get food, it’s most likely that R. Eliezer’s opinion was in the minority and not widely accepted.

The Sinful Anointer

This wasn’t Jesus’s only “scandalous” contact with a woman. In Matthew 26 and Mark 14, we have parallel accounts of a woman anointing Jesus’s head with an alabaster jar of expensive perfume, which Jesus says is part of his preparation for burial. In Luke 7, we have a similar story, except in Luke’s account, the woman pours the perfume on Jesus’s feet after washing them with her tears and her hair. Not only that, this woman kisses Jesus’s feet as well. Luke mentions that Simon considers the woman a sinner. In the Matthew and Mark accounts, the disciples and other dinner guests are indignant with the woman and treat her rudely. But Jesus hardly bats an eye at the event. He considers it a beautiful thing and even says that the woman’s actions would be immortalized in the Gospels.

Standing with the Leper

Jesus’s “scandals” were not limited to women, though. Many are familiar with the story of Jesus healing lepers. That’s something we would expect a compassionate healer like Jesus to do. But not only does he heal some of them merely by his words, he also reaches out and touches a leper. In the normal course of Jewish life, lepers had to walk around with their faces covered and shout “Unclean!” so that Jews would not be ceremonially defiled by them. But Jesus chooses to skirt the custom rather than the leper. When he touches the leper, the leper is healed. So is Jesus unclean or not? Or does Jesus even care if he’s unclean? Jesus chooses compassion over custom so that the world can know the deep, deep love that he and his Father have for creation.

Jesus, Lord of Life

I’ve blogged before about Jesus’s “I am” statements in the Gospel of John. Three of them are relevant here: “I am the Bread of Life,” “I am the Resurrection and the Life,” and “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.” Jesus came to bring life to a world that was looking for it in the wrong places. The religious leaders of the Jews thought it was found in absolute strict adherence to the law, so much so that they built a “hedge” around the law so that people might know when they were close to crossing the boundary (the word “Mishnah” means “hedge,” and the book is just as thick as a Bible with tinier print!). But Jesus blows that all to smithereens by simplifying it all for us: “Love God and love your neighbor.” If you do those two things, you don’t have to worry about the hedge.

Scandalous Living in the 21st Century Church

For many years, I pastored in small, rural congregations in Illinois. As you might expect in a small town, everyone knows your business whether you want them to or not. In some ways that’s good, but in other ways, that can be a great hindrance to ministry. Why? Because you can’t go to the places where those not religiously inclined hang out to share what’s important. I decided early in my Christian walk that it would be okay for me to hang out in bar with friends and acquaintances. I really don’t have a problem with Christians (or people of any other faith or nonfaith for that matter) drinking alcohol in moderation. Jesus, the true vine, did change water into premium alcoholic wine at the wedding in Cana. In my journey to be like Jesus, I want to be where the people are.

My half-siblings play in a trivia league in Omaha. Most of the trivia contests take place in bars. I love trivia, and I’m a pretty smart cookie, so I think I’d do pretty well in that setting. So last week, I joined the trivia league that meets at Maloney’s Irish Pub. It’s fun, and it’s great interaction with family and new friends and acquaintances. And it certainly beats staying home alone playing Words with Friends and Hidden Chronicles. I enjoy the company and the challenge. If Jesus can supply a couple hundred gallons of premium wine for a celebration, certainly I can enjoy a Sprite with friends!

Conclusion

Although I enjoyed my time as a pastor, I’m not sure I was really cut out for the rural scene. I am glad I’m not a pastor now, because I feel freer than ever to share the life of Jesus in places where my previous congregations would have surely fired me for going. I feel like I can truly have a ministry of the mundane (as Dietrich Bonhoeffer put it) among friends, family, and coworkers while I live the scandalous life of Jesus.

Peace!

Pastor Scott Stocking, M.Div.

March 11, 2012

The Passion Week of Christ

I have been swamped this past week or so with an albatross of an edit. I haven’t had time to put anything new together, but I thought with Resurrection Sunday coming up, I’d index the links to my blog posts on the final week of Christ’s earthly ministry. I’m guessing there might be a minister or two out there struggling for some sermon ideas.

“Why Have You Forsaken Me?” (Mark 15:34, par. Psalm 22:1)

Thieves, Robbers, or Rebels?

“I Am the Resurrection and the Life” (John 11:25)

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

“If I’ve Told You Once, I’ve Told You a Thousand Times…”

εἰς ἄφεσιν ἁμαρτιῶν (eis aphesin hamartiōn, ‘for the forgiveness of sins’)

Let the Sleeping Saints Arise!

“Father, Forgive Them…” (Luke 23:34)

A Truly Open Communion?

Peace to all!

Scott Stocking

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