Sunday Morning Greek Blog

March 4, 2023

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

Background

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

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

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

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

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

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

Advent: Preparing for the Coming Messiah

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

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

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

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

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

Epiphany

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

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

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

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

Lent

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

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

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

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

The things that move us away from The Light.

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

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

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

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

5 Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,

only a day for people to humble themselves?

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

and for lying in sackcloth and ashes?

Is that what you call a fast,

a day acceptable to the Lord?[4]

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

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

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

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

And so on and so on and so on.

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

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

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

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

3           and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

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

the oil of joy instead of mourning,

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

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

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

Conclusion (for now)

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

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

My opinions are my own.

Scott Stocking


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

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

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

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

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

November 1, 2022

Better Than Nothing (Luke 18:9–14)

Sermon preached at Mt. View Presbyterian Church October 23, 2022, and Peace Presbyterian October 30, 2022.

Click here to listen.

The pharisee thought he was better than nothing that mattered.

Who are the people you look up to? Most of you have probably seen that CarFax commercial where the CarFox asks you whom you would trust to give you the best advice about a car. We see a whole range of people in those commercials: a kindergarten teacher, coach, best friend, and father to name a few. It’s human nature that we want to have those we can look up to for advice, encouragement, inspiration, and direction.

But then there’s the new commercial where Morgan Freeman is reading a letter apparently written to a young football quarterback prodigy. The letter says something to the effect that, “I heard you’re the future Tom Brady. But really, you’re the future you. Don’t compare yourself to others; be the person you were made to be.” And at the end of the commercial, we find out the letter was written by Tom Brady himself. Tom Brady not only knew he was unique in his own way, but he recognized that everyone else is unique in their own gifts and talents, and that someday, someone may surpass all of his accomplishments.

So as we come to our Gospel passage today, the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, I think most people have a sort of “built-in” aversion to the attitude the pharisee presents here. The setting of the parable is important for understanding the complete polar-opposite contrast here Jesus is making, so let’s take a quick look at that.

In the parable, Jesus tells us that two men went up to the temple to pray. Now what do we know about the temple? It represents God’s dwelling place on earth. Jesus had a great love and passion for the temple. After all, it was his father’s house. Most of us are familiar with the story where Jesus aggressively protects the honor and integrity of his father’s house by casting out the money changers. He tells them they’ve turned his father’s house, which should be a house of prayer, into a “den of robbers.”

So it’s not unusual for Jesus to have these two men praying in the temple, but I think we need to use scare quotes around the word pray for the pharisee, because as it turns out, his words don’t sound much like a prayer at all. They sound more like self-justifying braggadocio than any kind of prayer to God we might expect. Of course, we’ve seen in other Gospel stories that Jesus is not impressed with the prayers of pharisees. In Matthew 6, he accuses them of praying to be heard and using a lot of flowery, religious language. And in our passage today, the pharisee focuses more on who he’s not like than who he should be.

It’s important to notice the people he compares himself to, because it makes a point about pride. A robber used violence to take what he wanted, and under Roman rule, such a person could find themselves on a cross. “Evildoers” is just the general word for the unrighteous. “Adulterers” is an interesting choice here, because what was supposed to be the penalty for adultery? Death by stoning. And last and probably the least in the pharisee’s eyes, there’s the tax collector. They were perhaps the most hated people in Israel, because they were seen as having sold out to the Romans.

So to sum it up, this pharisee was thanking God that he wasn’t like those he considered the dregs of his society. Now really, how tough of a comparison is that? That’s like Tom Brady thanking God he doesn’t throw like a kindergartner, or legendary Green Bay coach Vince Lombardi comparing himself to, well, I probably better not say it. In essence, the pharisee was saying he was better than the worst, better than those he considered “nothing” from his perspective.

He had evidently forgotten the teaching of Solomon in Ecclesiastes, that the accomplishments of this life, the things of this world, are meaningless. One’s position in life is not as important as enjoying the work and life God gave us and honoring the God who created us. This shows us one of the fallacies of the pharisee’s pride: He thought he was something, but he was, from his own perspective, better than nothing, or to qualify that, he was better than nothing that mattered. His prayer didn’t acknowledge any influence or impact of the God who made him who he was in God’s own house, no less.

Now contrast this with the tax collector. First of all, it’s important to notice here that both men are standing in the temple. If we’re not reading the story closely, we might be inclined to think the tax collector is on his knees, but he’s standing, just as the pharisee was. This may hearken back to Exodus 23, where all men were required to appear before God three times per year.

The tax collector is obviously aware of his lowly position in Jewish culture, yet he still finds the courage to come into the temple to approach God and ask for mercy. He can’t bring himself to even lift up his eyes toward heaven, but he beat his breast and pleaded for mercy as he confessed that he was a sinner. And because he was penitent, Jesus says the tax collector actually went home justified instead of the pharisee.

Now to the extent that the pharisee thought himself better than nothing that mattered, the tax collector realized he was nothing, that is, nothing without God’s mercy. As bad as he felt about himself and his life choices, he still understood that God was merciful and could extend forgiveness to him. Jesus concludes the parable with a famous statement that is often, in my humble opinion, misunderstood: “For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”[1]

Now you may not realize it, but I’m guessing that many of you have encountered the “Pharisee” before in real life. Tell me if this sounds familiar: You talk to someone about their faith in Jesus or coming to church with you and they respond with something like this: “Oh, I don’t need to go to church. I’m a good person. I don’t hurt anyone, I don’t cheat on my wife, and I give my clothes that don’t fit any more to the poor. I can’t imagine God wouldn’t let me into heaven when there are so many people out there who are much worse than me.” I ask you: how is that response any different from the Pharisee’s?

Our moral behavior is not what saves us. What saves us is our humble submission to God so that he can do his good and redemptive work through us, and our recognition, like the tax collector, that we are not worthy in and of ourselves. We need the grace and mercy of God.

Often times I think we have the idea that being humble means deprecating ourselves in such a way as to deny the gifts and strengths God has blessed us with. But there is a certain strength of character in humility, especially as it relates to how the writers of the psalms and proverbs address it:

Psalm 18:27 You save the humble but bring low those whose eyes are haughty.[2]

Psalm 25:9 He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way. [3]

Psalm 45:4 In your majesty ride forth victoriously in the cause of truth, humility and justice; let your right hand achieve awesome deeds.[4]

Psalm 149:4 For the Lord takes delight in his people; he crowns the humble with victory.[5]

Proverbs 11:2 When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.[6]

Proverbs 15:33 Wisdom’s instruction is to fear the Lord, and humility comes before honor.[7]

Proverbs 18:12 Before a downfall the heart is haughty, but humility comes before honor.[8]

So what does humility in action look like for us today? As I said a couple weeks ago when I spoke on gratitude, we recognize we’re not in it alone, and that we have a community of support within the church. Paul says it well in Philippians 2:3–4:

3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, 4 not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.[9]

We value others when we serve them, both in times of need and in times of celebration. I know the ladies of this congregation do quite a bit of quilting to give away in various situations. That’s a lot of hard work, but I know from your testimonies that it is a labor of love. I love the passage in 2 Corinthians 9:6–7:

Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.[10]

Another aspect of humility is recognizing our human frailties. Paul writes in Romans 7 about “doing what he doesn’t want to do” and recognizes “When I want to good, evil is right there with me.” This goes along with the attitude of the tax collector in today’s text: he recognizes his constant need for God’s mercy. This is not to say that we can’t have assurance of salvation: our normal human frailties do not by themselves disqualify us from salvation. But we still recognize that without the abundant mercy and grace of God, we would have no hope at all. The tax collector seemed to understand this, which is why he was able to stand it the temple. And we can stand before God with full confidence in our salvation.

Finally, submitting ourselves to God is the ultimate act of humility. Such submission involves drawing near to God, through his word, through prayer, and through fellowship. James confirms this with his words in chapter 4:

Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom. 10 Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.[11]

The love of God is amazing. When he created us, he knew we would need his help. That’s why Jesus came to earth, to show us how to live for God. That’s why Jesus sent us the Holy Spirit, so we would have real-time help and experience the presence of God, especially through prayer and worship. That’s why he gives us the church, especially the local congregation, so that we experience the diversity of God’s creation and can know that we have a great cloud of witnesses around us. And that’s why Jesus has gone ahead to prepare a place for us, so that we have the sure hope of eternal life in the heavenly kingdom.

May the peace of God be with you all. Amen.

Scott Stocking

My views are my own.


[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.

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

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

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

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

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

Taking Time to Give Thanks (Luke 17:11–19; 2 Kings 5:11–15)

Sermon preached at Mt. View Presbyterian Church October 9, 2022, and again at Peace Presbyterian on October 16, 2022.

Click here to listen

I’m going to ask a rather personal question here, but you are in no way obligated to answer it. How many of you can say you were at a point in your life when you felt like you were scraping the bottom of the barrel? If you’ve never been there, that’s good. I have, and I don’t wish it on anybody. You pretty much go through the whole range of negative emotions, from depression, to feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness, to anger, jealousy, rage, just to name a few. In those times, it can be difficult to discern the presence of God, especially if you’re not a believer or have no historical connection to a church fellowship.

Author and lawyer John Kralik was one man who felt he’d hit the bottom of the barrel. His law firm was failing, his second marriage had ended with a bitter divorce, and his girlfriend left him to boot. He felt increasingly disconnected from his grown children, was overweight, and lived in a cheap, poorly maintained apartment. He faced the prospect of losing what little he had left and was desperately looking for solutions.

Touched by a thank you note he received from his ex-girlfriend for a gift he’d sent her, he thought perhaps he’d try the same thing. Instead of focusing on everything going wrong in his life, he decided perhaps he should start focusing on the things he did have and the things he could be grateful for. He set off on a mission to write a thank you note a day for a whole year, and it completely turned his life around. He documented his journey in a book titled A Simple Act of Gratitude: How Learning to Say Thank You Changed My Life.[1]

Today’s passage from Luke finds Jesus encountering not one, but ten lepers who have most likely reached the lowest point of their lives. They have essentially been barred from society and have no means to support themselves. And it would have been difficult for others to help them at a distance too. As they stand at a distance and cried out for mercy or pity, Jesus didn’t even need to touch them. All he said to them was to report to the priests, and the text says they were cleansed as they went. They believed in and acted on what Jesus said, so they were all healed by their faith. There’s no question about that.

Now you would think that when they were healed and had presented themselves to the priests as the law required (Leviticus 14), they all would have returned to thank the one who healed them. But only one returns, a Samaritan no less. We’re not told why the other nine don’t return, but Jesus seems to think they had the opportunity, and responsibility, to do so, not for his sake, but for his father’s sake. Maybe the Samaritan, as a “foreigner,” felt he had so much more to be grateful for since Jesus primarily had come for the Jews.

The story here is reminiscent of an Old Testament account of another foreigner who was healed of leprosy. In 2 Kings 5, we have the story of Naaman, a highly regarded commander in Aram’s army, who also happened to have leprosy. A servant girl Naaman had acquired from a raid on Israel, the northern kingdom, apparently had compassion for Naaman, in spite of her captivity, and suggested that if Naaman could go see Elisha in Samaria, he would be healed. The king of Aram consented to Naaman’s “road trip” to Samaria, and to show it was a good-faith mission, the king himself wrote a letter of recommendation to the king of Israel.

The king of Israel thought it was a bad omen and tore his robes. Elisha, however, wasn’t phased and instructed Naaman and his entourage to come to his home. Elisha gave him a simple instruction, similar to what Jesus had told the ten lepers: go wash in the Jordan River seven times.

This time, it was Naaman’s turn to be indignant. We’ll pick up the story in 2 Kings 5:11:

11 But Naaman went away angry and said, “I thought that he would surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, wave his hand over the spot and cure me of my leprosy. 12 Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Couldn’t I wash in them and be cleansed?” So he turned and went off in a rage.

13 Naaman’s servants went to him and said, “My father, if the prophet had told you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more, then, when he tells you, ‘Wash and be cleansed’!” 14 So he went down and dipped himself in the Jordan seven times, as the man of God had told him, and his flesh was restored and became clean like that of a young boy.

15 Then Naaman and all his attendants went back to the man of God. He stood before him and said, “Now I know that there is no God in all the world except in Israel. So please accept a gift from your servant.”[2]

I think it’s important to recognize in this story that Naaman may have gotten a second chance here. When the Lord sent the spies out to explore the Promised Land, 10 of the 12 spies didn’t want to do what God commanded them to do. And after all the pleading with God, the 10 still didn’t want to go, so God killed them and told the Jews, “Sorry, you’re going to have to wait 40 years now for your children to see the Promised Land. Most of you will be dead by the time you get there.” The Jews changed their minds pretty quickly at that point, but it was too late. Their first attempt to take the land ended miserably because God had removed his blessing.

Fortunately for Naaman, his servants had cooler heads, and they prevailed with Naaman. Naaman had to shake off his pride in his own homeland to wash in “God’s river,” the Jordan. When he realized his obedience paid off, he returned to Elisha and offered a gift of thanksgiving, which Elisha refused. He eventually negotiated a deal with Elisha to get some dirt from Samaria so he could build his own altar to the Lord in Aram as his expression of thanks.

We see many other examples in the Bible of those who faced difficult circumstances but always returned to God to give thanks when their prayers were answered. Hannah, the other wife of Elkanah in 1 Samuel, desperately wanted a son, so much so, that she dedicated her first-born son, Samuel, to the Lord’s service at the young age of 3. In chapter 2, we see Hannah’s prayer honoring God for giving her the son she desired. It sounds very much like the song another mother sang hundreds of years later when she realized her son was destined to serve God.

Mary’s song, after she realizes the full implications of her pregnancy with the Messiah, picks up some of the same themes as Hannah’s prayer: the Lord is glorified; the humble are exalted; the hungry are filled; the poor are provided for, while the rich are brought low. Even Zechariah’s song at the end of Luke 1 carries some of the same themes, but focuses on the salvation Mary’s son would bring to the world.

Both women faced incredible social and cultural challenges: A barren wife often felt shame for not producing a possible heir for her husband. Mary, on the other hand, was pregnant without being formally married to Joseph. Yet when both of them realized the important roles they played in their respective histories, they gave God the thanks and glory he deserved.

So how can we be a thankful people? What are the benefits of developing the character quality of gratefulness? Tony Robbins once said, “Gratitude is the antidote to the two things that stop us: fear and anger.”[3] If you have trouble thinking of things to be thankful for, one of the suggestions I’ve come across most often is to keep some kind of “gratefulness” journal. Some people who keep a journal set aside a corner or section of their journal to deal strictly with things they are grateful for. Sometimes, it may be something as simple as “I woke up today” or “I’m grateful for my friends.” Others who keep a prayer journal usually have a ready supply of answered prayers to be thankful for. Once you get in the habit of writing down and taking account of the things you’re thankful for, you will begin to see more and more opportunities to give and express thanks for.

Don’t be afraid to say thank you to someone who’s been kind to you in some way. One suggestion that intrigued me was to say “thank you” when you ask someone for help instead of apologizing for inconveniencing them.[4] Not only is that a more positive statement, but it also helps to build relationships. A few years ago, I put out a request to my small group for some help moving a king-size bed frame, mattress, and box springs. One of the guys who was relatively new to the group showed up, much to my surprise. I made sure to thank him, and we’ve become good friends in the group.

Being thankful can also help develop an attitude of humility, as we saw in Hannah’s and Mary’s prayers. In saying thank you, we recognize, in part, that we couldn’t do something for ourselves and needed someone else’s help. This in turn also leads to a greater sense of community as well. We recognize that we’re stronger together. As one blogger put it, we realize that we “don’t always have to be strong” and that we’re allowed to “break down” once in a while, perhaps even have a good cry with a friend,[5] especially in difficult times when we truly need the support of others.

Drilling a little deeper here, having this humility can also help us see that our perspective may be a bit distorted at times. Sometimes we get in a rut with an old or bad habit and have trouble seeing any other way to deal with a situation. When we get bogged down in those “stinkin’ thinkin’” patterns, that may be another time when counting your blessings can help get you out of a rut.

Dr. Kenneth Miller, who writes for Psychology Today, summarized some key points about gratitude after he found himself laid up for a few weeks after a 30-foot fall from a rock climbing wall. Miraculously, his injuries were relatively minor compared to what they could have been: 30 feet is considered the start of the “fatality zone” when it comes to falling a long distance. He had “cultivate gratitude as a way of coping with [his] injury.” One thing he had been learning from his recovery, is that “gratitude…can strengthen resilience and wellbeing.”[6]

One final thought here, and this is something that comes from the biblical passages we discussed, is that in all of those stories we read, the grateful person made an effort to reach out to the one they were grateful for. In the gospel account, the leper may have been completely destitute, so all he was able to do was come back and say “thank you.” He didn’t have the means to bring any other gift. Perhaps this is why Jesus questions the gratitude of the other nine: they could have at least done the minimum, especially since it seems Jesus was right there in the village with them all.

As I mentioned before, Naaman negotiated an acceptable gift not for Elisha, but for the Lord who had told Elisha to relay the cure-action to Naaman. Hannah dedicated her son to the service of God and wrote a prayer of thanksgiving and praise that was included in Samuel’s history. The same could be said of Mary’s song, except she really had no choice in the matter of dedicating her son to God’s service.

The point here is that it is important to reach out personally (or in the case of God, prayerfully) to those who deserve our thanks, and not just with the spoken word. Our actions can express a louder thank you than just our words. Now you don’t have write a thank you note a day, as John Kralik did. Nor do you have to literally give up your first born to God’s service. And neither do you have to buy the person you’re grateful for an expensive gift. Drop them a personal note; call them; stop by and see them as you’re able. This also will help you continue to build and develop relationships. And for those of us in the church, we know precisely how valuable such relationships are for the life of the congregation.

So let me close this morning by practicing what I preach. I want to thank the leaders at Mt. View for welcoming me back to the place where I first found faith and for the opportunity to share what I’ve learned about that faith and the God who is worthy of it in my nearly 60 years on earth. It was a year ago this weekend that I first filled the pulpit here, and I’ve learned and grown so much as a preacher, pastor, and scholar. I look forward to more Sundays with you as long as you’re willing to have me and as long as God gives me breath. Peace to you all! Go forth and give thanks! Amen!

Scott Stocking

My views are my own. I’m grateful for those whose views I shared and documented here for adding value to this message.


[1] Adapted from book review on Amazon.com accessed 10/08/22.

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

[3] Quoted in Learning to say thank you changed my life- How to cultivate a habit of gratitude (streaksoflight.com) accessed 10/08/22

[4] Learning to say thank you changed my life- How to cultivate a habit of gratitude (streaksoflight.com) accessed 10/08/22

[5] A Thank You Letter To The Person Who Changed My Life | Thought Catalog accessed 10/08/22

[6] What a 30 Foot Climbing Fall Taught Me About Gratitude | Psychology Today accessed 10/08/22

October 3, 2022

“Opportunity Cost” in God’s Economy: The Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19–31)

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Prosperity without genuine charity magnifies disparity.

I preached this sermon at Mt. View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE, September 25, 2022. Lightly edited for publication.

19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. 20 At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores 21 and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores.

22 “The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. 24 So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’

25 “But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. 26 And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been set in place, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’

27 “He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, 28 for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’

29 “Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’

30 “ ‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’

31 “He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’ ”[1]

One of the talk show hosts I like to listen to, Dan Bongino, is fond of talking about an economic concept called “opportunity cost.” The phrase has been around since 1894, according to Merriam-Webster. The concept is pretty easy to grasp, and something most of us understand instinctively: it’s the difference between the most efficient and profitable uses of one’s time, money, talents, and resources and the less efficient or more wasteful uses of those assets. Opportunity costs are hard to ignore, but there are times when we may not be able to avoid settling for less. Sometimes, the costs are more obvious. Do I use my tax refund to pay down some debt or buy a brand new 80″ ultramegasuperduper high-definition television? Do I buy new boat to take out on weekends or my wife a more reliable car? (For the record, I have no desire to buy a boat.)

At other times, the opportunity costs may be a little more difficult to calculate. Do I stay home and have some “me” time after a busy week watching the grandkids, or do I go hang out with my friends at dinner or a show? Do my wife and I take a vacation with or without the kids?

The pandemic pushed people into weighing opportunity costs with respect to their jobs. Do I really want to work at home isolated, or do I want to be in the office where I’m around interesting people? Should I stick with what’s comfortable and familiar, or should I spread my wings a bit and see if there’s something more satisfying for me to bring home the bacon.

But perhaps the greatest opportunity cost befalls us with respect to how we use our time. Job opportunities abound. Setting aside tragic what-ifs for the moment, we are generally hopeful that if we don’t see a friend today, we can see them tomorrow. But like lost sleep, lost time is something we can never get back. No one has figured out how to make time run in reverse (except perhaps that time in 2 Kings 20:11 where God made the shadow move backwards on the temple steps).

But I digress. Benjamin Franklin said, “If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be the greatest prodigality” (think “prodigal son”).

Do you all remember Andy Rooney? He used to come on at the end of 60 Minutes in the 70s and 80s with the wittiest and most profound take on the events of the day. In one of those commentaries, he apparently was reflecting on life lessons learned, and he talked about some things he had learned: “Opportunities are never lost; someone will take the ones you miss.”

The 19th century Presbyterian minister Theodore L. Cuyler, however, probably says it best, especially in relation to our gospel passage this morning: “Tears never yet saved a soul. Hell is full of weepers weeping over lost opportunities, perhaps over the rejection of an offered Saviour. Your Bible does not say ‘Weep, and be saved.’ It says, ‘Believe, and be saved.’ Faith is better than feeling.”

Jesus’s story of the rich man and Lazarus comes at the end of a couple chapters’ worth of stories that focus on opportunity costs. The shepherd went looking for the lost sheep so he could know whether it truly was lost or if it had been attacked by a predator. He went looking so he’d know whether he had to be more vigilant for such predators. It was worth the woman’s time to sweep the whole house to find the valuable missing coin. On the flip side, we see the “prodigality” (to use Ben Franklin’s word) of the younger son, who wasted any profitable opportunities he may have had with his share of the inheritance by spending it on himself.

And in the first part of chapter 16, we see a shrewd but perhaps unfaithful steward of his master’s accounts. Before the steward loses his job, he “discounts” what his master’s clients owe to try to settle up the accounts. Some think this was dishonest in that he had no right to do that with his master’s outstanding assets, but some have suggested he may have been deducting any interest accrued, since it was against Jewish law to charge interest. Regardless, the steward seems to have used this opportunity to “win friends and influence people” by cutting deals with the clients, perhaps in hope of winning their favor and getting hired at his next job.

So let’s break down this story. The first thing that strikes us is that the rich man is not given a name in the story.[2] Only the poor man has a name, Lazarus. “Lazarus” is a latinized form of the Hebrew name Eleazar, which means “whom God helps.” The story is probably fictional, so there doesn’t seem to be a connection with Jesus’s friend Lazarus, whom he actually did raise from the dead. The fact that the rich man didn’t have a name in the story most likely stuck in the craw of any rich people listening to the story: after all, THEY were important; THEY had money and influence; and THEY could make your life miserable if they wanted to. You needed to know who they were so you could step aside for them!

So the rich man lived in the lap of luxury, feasting every day and never giving one thought, if he knew about him at all, to Lazarus. Lazarus was so crippled and destitute that he couldn’t get around on his own. Lazarus was completely dependent on others to move him around. It’s not clear why or how he winds up at the gate of this man. Was he Lazarus’s relative? A doctor? Or did he have some friends who worked as servants for the man and hoped to bring him some scraps later? However he was related to those around him, it’s obvious he was completely dependent on the mercy of others, including any friends he may have had. He could probably see or hear the man feasting in the house every day. And the purple robes were just salt in the wound, because purple was the symbol of ultimate wealth. What utter torture that must have been for Lazarus to watch and listen to the opulent lifestyle the man lived. His torture was only amplified by the dogs licking his sores with their rough tongues.

As the story goes, it would seem Lazarus and the rich man both died around the same time. Jesus uses the story to give us what I believe is a figurative look at the afterlife. Lazarus is helped by God as Jesus says the angels came and carried him away to Abraham’s side. In Jewish literature, this meant paradise. He was in a place of safety and security, awaiting the consummation of history. He was finally experiencing the comfort and healing that he never had a shot at in life. But for the rich man, the contrast is obvious. With all his wealth and selfish self-importance, he doesn’t get a parade of angels. He’s just buried. No pomp or circumstance. No mention of an elaborate funeral procession. No mention of any mourners expressing sorrow or grief at the loss of a loved one. To make it worse, we find out in vs. 23 that the rich man wound up in Hades, the abode of the dead in Greek mythology. That would have been the equivalent of hell or eternal punishment in the Jewish worldview.

Now it’s not clear whether you can actually see heaven from hell or vice versa, but Revelation seems to suggest you might be able to. At the judgment scene in Revelation, we read of God casting those whose names are not in the Book of Life in the Lake of Fire. So the description may have a ring of truth to it.

But back to the story. The rich man sees Lazarus in a comfort far more luxurious than he ever experienced and longs for just a drop of water from the tip of Lazarus’s finger. Abraham chides him and reminds him that he had made his choices in life. He chose to ignore and maybe even despise the suffering of Lazarus. He also chose to ignore Moses and the prophets and what they said about being right with God, so God gave him the punishment he deserved. If you spend your life running away from God instead of toward God, then God grants your wish in the end. Scary thought.

The rich man realizes he’s lost his opportunity at eternal comfort. That was his opportunity cost, and the cost had eternal consequences. He didn’t have the time or character to honor God while he was on earth, so now God doesn’t have time for him. As he comes to that realization, he pleads with Abraham to allow Lazarus to return to the land of the living as a testimony to his own family. Unfortunately, Abraham tells him that not even someone returning from the dead would be a powerful enough testimony to convince them to change their ways and believe in the possibility of eternal life in paradise. The testimony of the Old Testament, Moses, and the prophets, should be enough to convince people of this. It’s too little, too late for the rich man, and apparently for his family as well, although they still had a chance while they were alive.

Lazarus was helpless to do anything for himself. And it would seem like even his friends, if he had had any to begin with, had forgotten him. But apparently Lazarus had not given up his hope in God. These past three years with the COVID lockdowns was difficult for all, but especially for the most vulnerable. I’m sure it was difficult to limit family contacts for many of us. I’m sure many of us felt some sense of loneliness or helplessness at one time or another.

If you experienced a sense of any of this loss or disconnect, regardless of what caused it, you probably know at least a little bit how Lazarus feels in this situation. As I said earlier, the Lazarus story is most likely a parable, even though it’s not introduced in that way. It was unusual to mention a character by name in a parable, but the name, if it was a fiction, symbolizes the main point of the story: we need God’s help.

The rich man certainly could have used some help for his own situation, as he found out too late. He had obviously put his trust in his riches and was selfish to his own eternal detriment. Prosperity without genuine charity magnifies disparity. The rich man should have at least known Psalm 10:3–4:

3 [The wicked man] boasts about the cravings of his heart;
he blesses the greedy and reviles the Lord.

4 In his pride the wicked man does not seek him;
in all his thoughts there is no room for God.[3]

A short time after Jesus ascended to heaven, we see Paul warning about the pitfalls of greed in the absence of an awareness of God. If Paul was aware of Jesus’s teaching about Lazarus and the rich man, this seems to be the time and place for Paul to warn Timothy not to fall into the trap of greed:

6 But godliness with contentment is great gain. 7 For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. 8 But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that. 9 Those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. 10 For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.[4]

This seems to be where the rich man is at. Notice the warning here, especially in vs. 10: “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.” First we see the love of money not the ONLY root of evil, nor is it a root of ALL evil. The love of money may be manifest in any number of situations and encounters. It can lead to coveting, desiring things we cannot afford or shouldn’t have in the first place. In some contexts, coveting even refers to planning how to get those things by illicit or illegal acts. Of course, what naturally follows, if such greed or lust is not kept in check, is stealing, fraud, or some other conspiracy. The rich man could have kept his greed and uncompassionate response in check by looking first to the God of his forefathers, as Jesus indicates in the parable, and perhaps opened up an opportunity for himself to experience what Lazarus had in Abraham’s bosom. He could very easily have helped Lazarus. He had access to God’s help just like Lazarus did.

One of the places I’ve looked for this help from the earliest days of my faith in Christ, especially when I’ve been scared or uncertain about the future, is Psalm 91. Let’s hear the first four verses again:

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”

Surely he will save you
from the fowler’s snare
and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. [5]

The word for “save” here is not the typical word for salvation, which would have been the same root from which we get Jesus’ name. It has more to do with being rescued or protected from something harmful. In the case of Jesus’s parable, since the story is probably fictional, it doesn’t make any sense to try to figure out why Lazarus was the way he was. The grammar of the description suggests that he had been that way for quite some time. As such, it’s important to note the story says he had the privilege of being carried away by the angels upon his death. Even though he experienced what appears to be a “deadly pestilence,” God did save him from it in great style by having the angels carry him off to paradise. What a ride that must have been!

Application & Conclusion

I was at a men’s retreat Friday and Saturday. One of the speakers, a pastor who leads a Celebrate Recovery group at a church here in Omaha, spoke about how certain types of sins involving thought and desire (lust, porn, greed, hatred), when left unchecked, can act on our brains much like a drug does if we become addicted to it. To put it simply, these things can train our brain to think there’s only one path, to the exclusion of all others, we can take to address these desires, and too often, that path is destructive to ourselves and to others. Recovery comes when we find alternate paths that are not destructive to address our addictions and our negative thought processes. When we put our faith, hope, and trust in God; when we come to him as our refuge and fortress; the God of the universe opens up a universe of possibilities for us to be healed from these destructive tendencies. If we’re honest with ourselves, I think we can all find areas that we need to surrender to God so we can experience life in this world more fully in his presence. We many never get in the shape Lazarus was in, but God is still there to help us through and bring us eternal salvation and comfort. And on the flip side of that, we may never get as greedy and selfish as the rich man, but God can still break through that if we let him so we can better share the love and grace of God with others. Amen?


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

[2] Some traditions ascribe the name Dives (DEE-ves) to the man, since that is the Latin word for “rich man” in the Vulgate.

[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.

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.

March 27, 2022

Lost and Found: The Parable of the Prodigal (Luke 15:11-32)

This message was preached at Mt. View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, Nebraska, March 27, 2022. The text has been lightly edited for publication and to add in references to the key Greek words.

We can’t do anything else to earn [God’s forgiveness] because it’s already been granted to us in full by his grace.

When was the last time you “lost,” or rather, “misplaced” something you really needed? Since I had my third surgery on my leg a month ago, I’ve gotten out of my usual dressing habits and have been wearing sweatpants. The pockets in sweatpants tend to not be as deep as pants pockets, and this has gotten me out of the habit of where I put all my stuff during the day. With my pants, I could have my keys and change in one pocket, billfold in the back pocket, handkerchief in the other back pocket, and cell phone in my other front pocket. Pockets were made for carrying stuff, and I take full advantage of that.

But in the last couple weeks, I’ve “lost” or misplaced my house keys three times! They weren’t in their usual spot. One of those times, I looked all over the house during the day and couldn’t find them. When my wife got home from work, I looked in her car, and discovered they had fallen out of my sweatpants pocket between the driver’s seat and the center console. The other two times, I had taken them out of my sweatpants pocket and put them on my desk in my office instead of on the shelf in my bedroom where they usually go. The other day, I even lost my phone in the couch cushion, because I was keeping my leg elevated, and the phone fell out of my sweatpants pocket.

We hate it when we lose stuff, right? I went looking for some information on what are the most commonly “lost” items by Americans. What do you think is the number one item Americans say they lose?

Top Items Lost in US & UK

US: TV remotes, phones, car & house keys, glasses, wallets and bags 

UK: Keys, phone, pens (or other items of stationery), glasses or sunglasses, remote controls

CHipolo.com

The Parables of the Lost

According to the article this all comes from, written as a marketing piece for a company that sells electronic products you can attach to your lost items to help you find them with your smartphone, we spend on average 5 minutes and 20 seconds looking for lost items. That’s not to say we find the item after we search. This is quite the contrast to the time it takes to recover what the people in the parables in Luke 15 lost. The shepherd goes out into the open field to look for his lost sheep; probably not a quick walk. Or the woman who sweeps and cleans her entire household to find one coin, perhaps the most valuable thing she owned. And after the hard work to try to find what was lost, both the shepherd and the woman rejoice in finding what they’d lost.

The Lost Son Begins the Downward Slide

So as we come to the parable of the “lost” or “prodigal” son, we’re faced with a story of a different kind of “lostness.” Instead of an item, we’re dealing with a person, who by his own choice, loses himself by virtue of a series of poor decisions. Let’s look at the first part of that story.[1]

11 Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them.

13 “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. 14 After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16 He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything.

Let’s break this down a bit. The most important thing to note here is that, in that time, it was a grievous dishonor to your parents to ask for your share of the inheritance before they died. It was akin to saying to your father, “I wish you were dead.” It would have brought shame not only on the son, but on the father as well. The father could have easily said no, or he could have disowned his son altogether for such an act. It’s likely the father knew how the son would handle himself as well. Yet in spite of all this, the father consented and let the son go his own way.

This was not easy for the family. The oldest son was always entitled to twice the inheritance of the other sons, so the father probably would have had to sell off assets (βίος bios) he’d accumulated through his life’s work to give the younger son 1/3 of what the total inheritance for his sons would have been. The older son got his 2/3 inheritance as well, as vs. 12 says he divided his property between them. That will be important to remember as we come to the end of the story.

The younger son was impatient to get started on his newfound “freedom,” if we want to call it that, and dispensed with the cultural norms of saying goodbye. Keep in mind that most family units remained in close proximity to their ancestral home, so this was no small thing for the son to go away to a distant land. It was a sad time indeed, almost akin to mourning the loss of a loved one. But the younger son was seemingly insensitive to all of that, and went his own way.

So he “squandered his wealth in wild living.” That word “squandered” (διασκορπίζω diaskorpizō) is one of the most egregious terms for wastefulness in the New Testament. It implies an indiscriminate scattering of people, sheep, or even seed for planting. It tends to be a descriptive word about what’s going on, but it doesn’t seem to carry too much moral weight in that it’s not necessarily a strong condemnation. However, the results of his wastefulness come home to roost with him. Instead of planning for a rainy day or investing his wealth in something that might have earned him more money, he scattered it abroad indiscriminately. When the money dried up, so did his friends.

The beginning of his need was the beginning of his feeing of lostness. He had no friends, no nearby family, and there was no food bank or other charity nearby. He hired himself out to feed pigs, an animal considered unclean to the Jews. It was the ultimate shame, and he began to feel it. The pods the pigs were eating were carob pods (κεράτιον keration). Have you ever had carob? I remember several years ago carob had gained some popularity as a substitute for chocolate. But when I tried it, there was no comparison. If you like carob, more power to you. You won’t get any judgment from me. I’ll take the real chocolate any day.

Rock Bottom

But I digress. The son has hit the bottom of the barrel at this point, and he knows he needs to make a complete 180 degree turn with his life. We see his desperation in the next part of the story.

17 “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’

He thinks because he has brought such shame and disgrace upon himself that he can’t go back to his family with all the rights of a son. But he knew his father treated the servants well, so he at least thought he’d stand a better chance of survival and success there than all alone in a distant land.

Repentance and Ascendance

This 180-degree turn is what the Bible calls repentance. Repentance not only means to change your mind about the way you’ve been living, but also to change the way you’ve been living. He decides his best course of action is to humble himself and return home, where at least someone might love him.

20 So he got up and went to his father.

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

21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’

22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.

This part of the parable is one of the most beautiful pictures of God’s acceptance of a sinner returning to him. The younger son had probably spent most of his journey home rehearsing what he’d say to his father. Can you relate to that? You don’t have to raise your hand if you do. How many times have we found ourselves in a similar situation, where we knew we messed up and we have to humble, or even humiliate ourselves to croak out a huge apology. No excuses, no rationalizations, no passing the buck to someone else. It’s all on you, right? Those of us who’ve had those moments will most likely never forget how we felt in those moments.

But the younger son didn’t count on his father still loving him and missing him. Their parting was probably not pleasant as I hinted at above. The younger son had every right to assume his return would be met with skepticism, sorrow, and anger from the father. But the father shocks his son with his response, as Jesus shocks his listeners by telling this part of the story. The father runs to greet his son not with punishment or anger, but with love and compassion. This would have been somewhat embarrassing for the father, having to tuck his outer garment under his belt so his legs were free to run. It would seem all this time, the father never took his eyes of the horizon, waiting for his son to return, and the father didn’t care one bit what others may have thought of him for running to welcome his prodigal son home.

The prodigal, perhaps experiencing shock, embarrassment, and relief all at once, tries to get his prepared speech out, but the father cuts him off before he can get to the part about being one of his father’s hired servants. Instead, his father cuts him off and orders the servants to bring the best robe, a signet ring, and sandals. In that culture, those were signs of authority. The sandals were probably the most important part to the son, as slaves went barefoot. Right away, the son knew he was not going to be welcomed back as a slave, but as a son. When pharaoh made Joseph second in command in Egypt (Genesis 41:41ff), he received pharaoh’s own signet ring, which was a sign of authority and allowed Joseph to make financial decisions and royal decrees in Pharaoh’s stead. He got robes of fine linen from pharaoh, which must have brought back memories of getting the coat of many colors from his own father as a young man. Joseph received a gold chain as well, although there’s no mention of that for the prodigal. Joshua, the high priest in the time of the prophet Zechariah, had his filthy clothes exchanged for fine garments at the order of the angel as a sign that his sins had been removed (Zechariah 3:3–4).

To bring it back to our story, then, the younger son was experiencing complete forgiveness and restoration from his own father. Not only that, but the father orders the fattened calf to be killed for a great celebration feast. Notice the contrast between the response here and the responses in the first two parables in this chapter. The one seeking what was lost gathers friends and neighbors together to “Rejoice with me; I’ve found what I lost.” And then Jesus says that there would be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over the 99 who don’t need to repent. Those first two parables use a form of the word for “rejoice” (συγχαίρω/χαρά sunchairō/chara) four times, but never use the word “celebration.” In the prodigal story, Jesus skips the “Rejoice with me” part and goes straight to a heaven-worthy celebration. The word for “celebration” (εὐφραίνω euphrainō) is used four times in the prodigal story. As such, we see how much more valuable God considers our own souls over and above what we possess or are called to care for.

How much is that like our God? Before we can even get the words of apology and repentance out of our mouths, God comes running to meet us where we are, ready to embrace us and welcome us into his kingdom. He’s ready to forgive the moment we change our minds; we can’t do anything else to earn it because it’s already been granted to us in full by his grace.

The younger son’s response here is similar to what we see in Psalm 51, which David wrote after his sin with Bathsheba was exposed:

1 Have mercy on me, O God,
   according to your unfailing love;
   according to your great compassion
   blot out my transgressions.

2 Wash away all my iniquity
   and cleanse me from my sin.

3 For I know my transgressions,
   and my sin is always before me.

4 Against you, you only, have I sinned
   and done what is evil in your sight;
   so you are right in your verdict
   and justified when you judge.

Or again, like the ending of the longest chapter in the Bible, Psalm 119, the younger son seeks out restoration:

169 May my cry come before you, LORD;
   give me understanding according to your word.

170 May my supplication come before you;
   deliver me according to your promise.

171 May my lips overflow with praise,
   for you teach me your decrees.

172 May my tongue sing of your word,
   for all your commands are righteous.

173 May your hand be ready to help me,
   for I have chosen your precepts.

174 I long for your salvation, LORD,
   and your law gives me delight.

175 Let me live that I may praise you,
   and may your laws sustain me.

176 I have strayed like a lost sheep.
   Seek your servant, for I have not forgotten your commands.

The Other Lost Son

It would be great if the story of the prodigal son ended here, with everyone rejoicing, but it would seem that the role of the problem child is transferred to the older son.

25 “Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27 ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’

28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

31 “ ‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ ”

Evidently the servants had been so busy preparing things for the prodigal-come-home that no one thought to go get his older brother to join the celebration. Or, to be fair, maybe the servant assigned that task hadn’t got to him yet, and was meeting him half way. We don’t know how far out in the field the son was. Of course, the older brother’s attitude is what we might expect. His attitude is much harsher than the description of his squandering at the beginning of the story. Jesus here puts a different word for “squandering” (κατεσθίω katesthiō) in the older brother’s mouth, and adds the bit about prostitutes as well. The word for “squandering” here seems to carry a much more judgmental tone through the Scriptures, sometimes translated as “devour” or “exploit.” The father tries reassuring the older son that everything he has is available to him, but still emphasizes the need to celebrate his brother’s return. Jesus ends the parable abruptly there, presumably on purpose. He leaves us to think about what our own response might be in that situation. Would we continue to be indignant and jealous about the attention his younger brother is getting, or would we follow in the footsteps of his father and rejoice that a lost one has returned?

I get it. Sometimes it’s hard to trust that someone who has turned their back on God might genuinely want to come back to Jesus and get their lives back in order. Sometimes, they really have made the change in their lives. I’ve known people who’ve done that. But I’ve also known those who made a play at repenting, but then continued on with the bad decisions in their life. There was no real motivation for positive change or repentance. Do you have a lost loved one who may be showing signs of wanting to be restored? Run to them and let them know they’re welcome. Or have you lost your way and need to come home? Turn around. The father is waiting to welcome you into his kingdom with open arms.

Epilog: The Connection to the Parable of the Shrewd Manager (Luke 16:1ff)

I want to offer a brief epilog here, because even though it looks like the three “lost” parables in chapter 15 stand as a unit of teaching, there’s a connection to the very next parable, the parable of the shrewd manager. The word for “squandered” (διασκορπίζω diaskorpizō) from the first part of the prodigal story is used to describe the manager in 16:1. But the parable of the shrewd manager ends quite differently. All we know is that the manager was accused of “squandering” the owner’s possession, but nothing seems to have been proven. The manager takes a couple bills and discounts them for the debtors so he can collect something for his master, and at the same time, earn a little favor with those to whom he gave the discounts. The owner commended the manager for his shrewdness, and Jesus closes the parable by saying “Use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.” The prodigal wasted his money on things that wouldn’t bring him any eternal benefit. The shrewd manager, however, used the money under his control to win friends and influence people. I’ll leave you with this question: How can we as individuals and as the body of Christ, grow the kingdom with our worldly wealth?


[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.

March 13, 2022

Temptations Lose Their Power (Luke 4:1‒13)

Author’s Note: This message was preached at Mt. View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, Nebraska, March 6, 2022. The text has been lightly edited with the addition of section headings.

It’s the oldest persistent and scariest challenge in the world, and one that very few have ever navigated with 100 percent success. Men and women who have done great things in their lives have lost it all because one time out of the hundreds or thousands of times they’ve dealt with this challenge, they failed horribly, miserably, and humiliatingly. Whether it was a moment of pride, lust, greed, or desperation, that one moment of failure was enough to erase and “cancel” all the good and great things someone ever accomplished.

The Roots of Temptation

By now, you’ve probably guessed what that oldest challenge is: temptation. We see it from the earliest chapters in the Bible, while Adam and Eve are still in a pristine paradise in the garden, clear through the Old Testament, and even into the New Testament story line. In Genesis 3, we see the primary elements of temptation in Eve’s encounter with the serpent: “the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom.”[1] John confirms this definition in his first letter (1 John 2:16) in slightly different words: “For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world.[2]

Examples of Temptation

Old Testament

We could, unfortunately of course, provide several other examples of temptation in both testaments, but I want to highlight a couple other ones to clarify what temptation is and is not. For example, later in Genesis, not once, not twice, but three times the patriarchs mislead the king of a foreign country about the nature of their respective relationships with their wives. Abraham does it twice, and Isaac once. These failures ostensibly came about because the men had some measure of fear of what these foreign kings might do, but that was no excuse in God’s eyes. And let’s not forget about Joseph when Pharaoh’s wife pursues him. He put his own life at risk by fleeing the scene of temptation.

Fast forwarding to the kingdom era, we of course have the story of David and Bathsheba, where David goes out on the rooftop of his palace and sees a beautiful woman bathing. Not only does he have her brought to the palace to take advantage of her, but when he realizes he got her pregnant, he tries to “frame” her husband for the pregnancy. Of course, this utterly fails, as Uriah has more integrity than David, and David has him put on the front lines of battle to a certain death. One moral failing leads to another, which is ultimately exposed by Nathan the prophet.

New Testament

One final example of temptation is that of Ananias and Sapphira in Acts, the couple who misrepresented the money they earned from a property sale and both wound up dead for lying to the church about it. They could have given whatever they wanted to and kept whatever they wanted to, but they tried to fool church and paid the ultimate price.

I believe each of these stories represent each of the three elements of temptation individually that we saw in Eve’s thinking and John’s epistle. But before we get too much further into this, it’s important that we look at the words the Bible uses for “temptation” so we can get a better understanding of its meaning and application.

Temptation and Testing: The Word Study

[Professor's Tip: Normally, I would do a word study in the original language, but since there are only two related Greek words (noun and verb) and one Hebrew word dedicated to the concept, a study of translation principles is more in order.]

Now even though I gave several examples of temptation from the Old Testament, the verb “tempt” and its noun “temptation” are rarely if ever found in English translations of the OT. Neither the New International Version nor the English Standard Version nor the New Revised Standard Version have those English words at all in the OT. The New King James Version translates the Hebrew word (נסה nāsāh) as “tempt” or “tempted” in four verses, three of which are related to Jesus’s responses to the devil in the temptation narrative we’ll look at in a moment. The reason I bring this up is because by comparing the NKJV with the other three translations I mentioned, we see that the other way the Hebrew (and in the NT, the Greek) words are translated: “test.”

The Difference Between “Test” and “Tempt”

So why do three of the versions I mentioned use “test” instead of “temptation” for the same Greek or Hebrew word? Well, as I tell my students when they ask me questions like that, the answer is “context, context, context.” If you follow the use of the words in their respective story settings, you find that “testing” has to do with the relationship between God and humans. The general thrust of the verses in question goes one of three ways: either God is testing his people to see how they respond, or the people are testing God by NOT doing what he’s commanded them to do, or one person is testing another’s character. And consistent with the concept of testing, sometimes there’s a judgment or “grade” on how we responded to the test.

“Temptation” is a subset of testing. That is, all temptations are tests, but not all tests are temptations. The word “temptation” is used by these English translation committees to indicate a situation in which some personified evil power or influence is at work. James 1:13–15 clarifies this for us:

13 When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; 14 but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. 15 Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.[3]

Our own modern English dictionaries seem to confirm this distinction as well. Merriam-Webster says “tempt” means “to entice to do wrong by promise of pleasure or gain,” “to induce to do something,” or its synonym “provoke.”[4] However, the word gurus at Merriam-Webster tell us that the use of the word “tempt” to mean “to make trial of” or to “test” (i.e., how the word is used in the King James Version) is now obsolete.

So, to sum up where we’re at: testing happens between God and man or from man to man. Temptation happens when an evil one or evil desire holds our attention. I haven’t forgotten about my sermon title, “Temptations Lose Their Power”; we’ll get to that soon. And no, there will NOT be a quiz afterwards!

OT Background for Jesus’s Temptation Narrative

Let’s get back to Scripture, then, and look at the passages that set us up for passage about Jesus’s temptation in the wilderness.

In Exodus 17, not long after the Jews had crossed the Red Sea on dry land, one of many grumbling episodes broke out against Moses. This is the first time we see the Hebrew word for “test” in the OT, so it’s worth taking a quick look at the text:

The whole Israelite community set out from the Desert of Sin, traveling from place to place as the Lord commanded. They camped at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. 2 So they quarreled with Moses and said, “Give us water to drink.”

Moses replied, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you put the Lord to the test?”

3 But the people were thirsty for water there, and they grumbled against Moses. They said, “Why did you bring us up out of Egypt to make us and our children and livestock die of thirst?”

4 Then Moses cried out to the Lord, “What am I to do with these people? They are almost ready to stone me.”

5 The Lord answered Moses, “Go out in front of the people. Take with you some of the elders of Israel and take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. 6 I will stand there before you by the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it for the people to drink.” So Moses did this in the sight of the elders of Israel. 7 And he called the place Massah  and Meribah  because the Israelites quarreled and because they tested the Lord saying, “Is the Lord among us or not?”[5]

Notice here that Moses, at least, passes the test. He’s commanded to strike the rock, and indeed he does. The people, however, not so much. Now if you’re scratching your head and saying, “Wait a minute, I thought Moses got in trouble for that one,” you might be thinking of the similar account toward the end of the wilderness wanderings in the book of Numbers, where Moses was commanded to SPEAK to the rock, but STRUCK it twice instead, and consequently lost his free pass to the Promised Land. Moses failed that one. So, let’s ask an obvious question at this point: If you’re stuck in the wilderness for 40 days and 40 nights, which of these two stories of a Bible hero would you want on your mind to survive your time of testing?

Well, Deuteronomy 6 answers that question for us, and these verses are the sources for two of Jesus’s three responses in the wilderness to the Devil”

13 Fear the Lord your God, serve him only and take your oaths in his name. 14 Do not follow other gods, the gods of the peoples around you; 15 for the Lord your God, who is among you, is a jealous God and his anger will burn against you, and he will destroy you from the face of the land. 16 Do not put the Lord your God to the test as you did at Massah.[6]

The Temptation Narrative

And so finally, we come to the story today of Jesus’s temptation in the wilderness.

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted (πειράζω peirazō) by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry.

The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread.”

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone.’”

The devil led him up to a high place and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And he said to him, “I will give you all their authority and splendor; it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to. If you worship me, it will all be yours.”

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’”

The devil led him to Jerusalem and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down from here. 10 For it is written: “ ‘He will command his angels concerning you to guard you carefully; 11 they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”

12 Jesus answered, “It is said: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

13 When the devil had finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time.[7]

Luke 4:1‒13

Now we can make an educated guess as to why the devil tried to pull this little stunt here of tempting God’s son. The devil knew Jesus was the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world and he couldn’t get to him on the spiritual side. The devil targeted Jesus’s human side with the three elements of temptation we talked about in the beginning: the lust of the flesh (turning stones into bread to assuage his hunger, a clear abuse of power to serve himself only); the lust of the eyes (the devil showing Jesus all the kingdoms and offering him to rule it all if he worshiped the devil, Jesus knew who the true ruler was and who deserved his worship); and the boastful pride of life (demonstrating superhuman strength and feats, again an abuse of power to serve himself and draw attention away from his teaching and example). If the devil could get Jesus to bite on just one of these, it would be all over for the rest of us.

How Temptations Lose Their Power

Prayer

One of the main reasons we have this story is to demonstrate what Hebrews 4:15 says: “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin.”[8] And why did he care enough to do that? The very next verse gives us the answer, and one of the biblical steps we can take to cause temptations to lose their power. “Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”[9]

For any test, trial, or temptation we face, we can always turn to God in prayer. Joseph, even though he was imprisoned after fleeing Potiphar’s wife, stayed connected with God. He would eventually rise to power in Egypt because he maintained his integrity and continued to do the will of God. And we’re not alone in these times either. Hebrews 12 says we’re surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. Not only can we seek mercy and grace from Christ at the throne of God, but we can also seek it from the body of Christ here in our own communities. Some churches have a Celebrate Recovery program that helps people deal with addictions. Other churches sponsor Grief Care and Divorce Care groups to help people in those situations.

Living in the Will of God

This brings us to another strategy for cutting off the impact of temptation in our lives. Right after John gives his description of temptation I mentioned earlier, he says this: “The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.”[10] David, when he had a chance to kill King Saul in a cave, refused to lay a hand on God’s anointed. It must have been a huge temptation for him to have killed Saul then and there and complete his divinely appointed takeover of the kingdom, but David waited on God’s timing. Another episode where David succeeded was when he was bringing the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem. When he realized he wasn’t transporting it according to God’s instructions, and Uzzah died when touched the Ark to steady it on the cart, David left it at the home of Obed-Edom to keep it safe there until he could move it properly. He didn’t try to make excuses for doing it the wrong way, he just stopped doing it the wrong way.[11]

(Memorizing and) Quoting God’s Word

In addition to prayer and doing God’s will, Jesus shows us yet another way to address temptation and weaken its power in our lives: citing the word of God. The fact that Jesus cites two of his three verses from Deuteronomy 6 gives us some insight as to what Jesus had been thinking about and meditating on while he was in the wilderness. He was obviously thinking about how Moses had led a stiff-necked people through the wilderness for 40 years when he only had to survive it 40 days. He remembered Moses’s success at Massah as we read above from Exodus 17. We can always look to the Scriptures for help facing temptation. It’s good to memorize Scripture as well, so you can have it at the ready, especially when temptation may come at you out of nowhere. Study God’s word. Learn from the mistakes and successes of the heroes of faith. Make a plan.

A Personal Testimony

When I was a young Christian in high school, I was all too aware of what my hormones were doing to me. When I read the story of Joseph and Potiphar’s wife, I embraced that as my power and plan to avoid that kind of temptation. Without going into any detail, twice I found myself in very similar situations to Joseph where I was outright given an opportunity I was not seeking to make the wrong decision with people I knew would be bad influences on me, and I followed Joseph’s plan as a young man. Run away! I am certain that those two events are watershed moments in my faith journey. I’d hate to think where I’d be today had I not made the right decisions in those early days of my faith.

The Promise of God

This brings me to my final Scripture, 1 Corinthians 10:13. I’m sure many of you are familiar with it: “No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.”[12] Trust in God, his word, and the power of the Holy Spirit working in your lives to watch over you. The devil tried to convince Jesus he could jump off the top of the temple without being harmed by quoting Psalm 91:12. But that verse was never intended for us to do things to provoke God’s protection. That promise is there for us when we find ourselves in a place we were powerless to avoid. God will make a way to cause temptations to lose their power, and that’s one way he shows his great love for us.

Scott Stocking. My opinions are my own.


[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] Merriam-Webster, Inc. 1996. In Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, 10th ed. Springfield, MA: Merriam-Webster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

[11] 2 Samuel 6

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

February 20, 2022

Getting Naked for Jesus: A Lesson on Loving Your Enemy (Luke 6:27–38; par. Matthew 5:39–42)

Sermon preached February 20, 2022, at Mount View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE. The sermon text has been mildly edited and reformatted for publication.

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.

I want to acknowledge the contribution of Walter Wink’s Engaging the Powers, Chapter 9, “Jesus’ Third Way: Nonviolent Engagement” for his exegesis of the cheek slapping, garment forfeiting, and extra mile passages. Over the years, I have found his “Powers” series extremely helpful in understanding the concept of spiritual warfare.

Flipping the Script on the Good Samaritan Parable

I think most of us here know what the two greatest commandments are: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.” And most of us know that when someone asked Jesus who his neighbor was, Jesus, in typical fashion, answered with a parable instead of a direct answer. That parable, of course, is the Parable of the Good Samaritan.

Just to set the stage, here, I’ll recap the parable: A man was robbed, beaten, and left for dead on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho. A priest and temple servant, that is, a Levite, two people who we’d think are most in tune with worshiping God, walk right by the man and offer him no help. Then a Samaritan, someone despised to no end by the Jews and outside of most Jewish “in-groups,” comes along and renders care to the man and gets him to a place of safety. When Jesus asked the Jewish law expert who was a neighbor to the man, the expert couldn’t even bring himself to say “Samaritan.” He answered, “The one who had mercy on him.”

Now as we come to today’s passage in Luke 6:27 and following, let’s take a different track on the Parable of the Good Samaritan. Instead of asking “Who was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” at the end of the story, how would we answer if Jesus had asked, “Who is the enemy of this man?”

Before we answer that question specifically about the Parable, or even about our own lives, we can make a broader statement about who the enemies of the Jews were generally, as that is important to set the context for Luke 6:27.

Who Is My Enemy?

In the first place, we can identify the obvious political enemy for the Jews: The Roman Empire. They were efficient and brutal in executing judgment against those who wouldn’t toe the line. They collected taxes and even recruited some Jews to betray their people and collect the taxes for them. This would certainly be at the forefront of every Jew’s thinking, which is why they had the expectation at the time that the Messiah would be a military leader who would free them from Roman bondage. But Jesus wasn’t just concerned about Rome.

We can look at the Beatitudes as well. Have you ever noticed that the first chapter of the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5), which includes the Beatitudes, has as much to do with our relationships with each other as it does with our relationship to God? Just listen to a few passages from that chapter:

Matthew 5:11 Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. [1]

Matthew 5:22 But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment.[2]

Matthew 5:25 Settle matters quickly with your adversary who is taking you to court.[3]

Matthew 5:43‒44 You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.[4]

Matthew 5:11, 22, 25, 43‒44

They could have enemies within their own in-group, never mind the Romans. And those kinds of enemies can be the most painful to deal with at times. So with these concepts of who the Jews’ enemies were at the time, let’s turn to our central passage this morning, Luke 6:27‒36.

27 “But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. 29 If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. 30 Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. 31 Do to others as you would have them do to you.

32 “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. 33 And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that. 34 And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, expecting to be repaid in full. 35 But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. 36 Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.[5]

Luke 6:27‒36

What Does “Loving Your Enemy” Look Like?

One big question we need to ask ourselves right off the bat is, if loving your neighbor looks like what the Samaritan did for the victim on the side of the road, what does loving your enemy look like if they’re the ones that put you on the side of the road? What is that kind of love in action? What does Jesus think will happen to the enemy, or to us, if we “love” them back?

Luke here takes the other side of the beatitude we looked at earlier. If you’re blessed when you’re persecuted, turn around and bless the persecutor. Again, what does that look like? Is just a matter of saying a few kind words or praying a quick prayer over the persecutor? Or does Jesus have something a little more transformative in mind here?

In Matthew’s parallel account of this in the Sermon on the Mount, he uses this teaching as a contrast to the Lex Talionis, the “eye-for-an-eye” principle of legal punishment in the Old Testament. So it would seem here that Jesus has in mind with this teaching the cultural and legal ramifications of our actions. There are much bigger principles at work here than just the day-to-day challenges we face, like getting cut off in traffic, someone putting a ding in your car door, or a neighbor not picking up after their dog has graced your yard.

Resistance Is Unfruitful

In Matthew’s version, he records Jesus saying: “Do not resist an evil person.” That word “resist” (ἀνθίστημι anthistēmi) is the same word used in Ephesians 6:13 about “standing your ground” or “standing firm.” The word is used quite often in passages about military battles, so it has the implication of not just staying put, but actively and at times violently resisting the enemy so they cannot push you back or overcome you. When Jesus says “do not resist,” then, he’s talking about not resisting violently, about not responding in kind.

What he’s NOT saying, however, and this is important to understand the passage, is let yourself get trampled over, and the examples that follow help us understand just how to apply this type of “love.” It also shows how this type of “love” he wants us to demonstrate can be the seed to transform a situation and possibly bring some redemption.

Slapping for Shame

The first example about loving your enemy, getting slapped on the cheek, has been sorely misunderstood through most of Church history, primarily because we have failed to recognize the historical context in which it is set. Matthew’s version is a little more specific than Luke’s version in that Matthew specifies the right cheek. He has a couple reasons for doing that. The first is that, when a superior wanted to shame or reprimand a subordinate, a soldier wanted to shame a subject, husband wanted to shame his wife, or a parent their child, the custom in that day was to use a backhand slap to the cheek. The other background piece here is that, for the Jews, using the left hand was taboo because it was used for “unclean” tasks. So the backhand slap always had to be done with the right hand, and the right cheek was the easiest target for that.

So what happens when you “turn the other cheek”? It exposes the left cheek for a backhand slap. But the taboo against using the left hand was so strong, no one would do that, and trying to do a backhand slap with your right on someone’s left cheek is pretty awkward. [Author’s note: technically, a backhand stroke starts on the opposite side of the body from the hand used; trying slap the left cheek with the back of the right hand would essentially require you to come straight on the person’s face, like a punch. It wouldn’t cross the body, and it would look ridiculous to an observer.] In other words, turning the other cheek is a sort of passive challenge to the abuser to subsequently either shame themselves by using a left-hand slap or losing the power dynamic by punching the person outright. In a culture that valued honor and scorned shame so highly, most people would think twice about bringing shame upon themselves or degrading their position of power or authority.

“But,” you may ask, “why not just punch someone with your fist?” Well, this is the final piece of the cultural puzzle: if you punched someone with your fist, as in a regular fist fight, that meant you considered the person you hit your equal in that culture. There would be no one-way expression of shame or insult. You would shame yourself by resorting to violating cultural norms with what would be considered violence.

So the popular and long-standing Christian misreading of this as letting yourself get beat up when someone slaps you has no basis in historical reality when it comes to what Jesus intended to teach here. The point of turning the other cheek, then, is not to passively get pummeled, but to deny or make it more difficult for the oppressor to continue to shame you. I mean, how is it “loving your enemy” to submit to a beating? This is one way, then, to “love your enemy.” The temptation for us is to respond to such shaming, which is a form of violence, with violence of our own, but this is not what Jesus wants for us, as he said in Matthew. Turning the other cheek is a way to fight back against the culture of shaming without resorting to violence. It is love for your enemy because it also forces them to make the choice to continue to shame by putting their own honor and shame on the line.

Getting Naked for Jesus

Let’s take a look at the next example of “loving your enemy,” giving up your underwear. Yes, you heard that correctly, folks. Jesus says to give up your underwear if someone takes your outer garment. The average Jewish person had a simple wardrobe: an undergarment, which in Greek was called a χιτών (chitōn), and an outer garment called a ἱμάτιον (himation). In the Old Testament, if you needed to borrow money from someone, you might be asked to give the lender your outer garment as a pledge to repay your loan. However, since many Jews only had one outer garment (there were no Duluth Trading Company or JC Penney stores), Jewish law said the lender must return the outer garment to the borrower each night so they could use it to keep warm while sleeping.

In some cases, a lender may get a little too aggressive in trying to secure a pledge for a loan. They would take a poor borrower to court in an attempt to secure the borrower’s outer garment indefinitely, without returning it to the borrower each night. This was not only a violation of basic human rights for the Jews, but an insult to Jewish law and tradition. Unlike the slap in the face, this wasn’t so much about shaming the individual as it was taking a cruel action to force the borrower’s hand to pay back the loan.

But shame does play a part in Jesus’s teaching about how to respond to such a tactic. Jesus teaches that the person who is taken to court for their outer garment should just go the whole nine yards and hand over their undergarment as well, leaving them essentially naked. But as we see in the story of Noah and his sons after the flood, the primary shame of nakedness is not for the one who walks around naked, but on those who view or even mock the naked person. So once again, instead of taking a more violent response toward the aggressor, Jesus tells his listeners to essentially put the plaintiffs and the judge in a position of shame by walking out of the court room naked!

Jesus’s point here, then, is that the loving thing to do is shame the oppressors and make them think twice about using the courts to compel violations of Jewish law and tradition. Maybe, just maybe, the oppressors would think twice next time about permanently withholding someone’s outer garment.

Going the Extra Mile, Literally

Matthew adds one more example of how to love your enemies: going the extra mile. Roman law allowed a soldier to compel (ἀγγαρεύω angareuō) a subject to carry his pack one mile. Jesus’s answer to this is for the person to go another mile with the pack. Here’s why: Romans seem to have strictly enforced this compelled service rule so they wouldn’t incur the wrath of the ruled, so going the extra mile would actually put the Roman soldier in danger of being punished for violating Roman law. The soldier may also take it as an insult, that the Jew perhaps thought the soldier hadn’t regained enough strength to resume carrying the pack. Again, this is a nonviolent way of making the oppressor, the power holder, think twice about pressing someone into service.

So to summarize these three examples that Jesus gives, loving your enemy would seem to be a little like tough love. Again, Jesus was not in favor of a violent retaliation against Romans or of a violent response to those who do us harm. He wants a response from us that will bring positive transformation to both parties.

Our Response

Verses 32–34 confirm that loving and being kind and compassionate to those in our in-group is no big deal. God expects that, and even sinners do the same for each other. In vs. 35, Jesus takes loving your enemy beyond the tough love of the first three examples. “Love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back.[6]” Take the lead; take the initiative; and take the moral high ground when it comes to your enemies. Verse 35 goes on to say that even God is kind to the ungrateful and wicked, so we should mirror that kindness.

Now earlier, I asked the alternate question about the Parable of the Good Samaritan: “Who was the enemy of the man beaten and left on the roadside?” The Samaritan was a cultural enemy of the Jews, but he didn’t act like an enemy to the man in need. Certainly we can say the robbers were his enemies. But what about the priest and the Levite? With all their supposed piety, is it possible they could be categorized as enemies as well?

Are YOU Someone’s Enemy?

Now I know some of you have probably never heard these Scriptures explained in this way before. It might be a lot to process about what it means to love your enemy. But let’s flip the script one more time. Who in your life or your circle of influence might consider you an enemy? Hmm? I don’t know about you, but when it occurred to me during my sermon prep this week that I needed to ask that question of myself, it made me squirm a little bit. Now it’s possible no one considers us an enemy, I’ll grant that. But many of us have experienced the heartache of a broken relationship, failed expectations from those we love, or maybe even not living up to our own expectations. Jesus takes us to the highest level of love in vv. 37-38:

37 “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. 38 Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”[7]

Luke 6:37‒38

In Matthew 5 in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus gives us the solution for this:

23 “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, 24 leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift. [8]

Matthew 5:23‒24

If you’re struggling with loving your enemy, I would encourage you to find a good support group at a local church who can help you through any struggles you might have with that. Jesus calls us to love our neighbors AND our enemies as ourselves. There is no higher calling than this.

I own my opinions and my agreement with Walter Wink’s exegesis of these passages.

Scott Stocking


[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.

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

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

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!

Scott Stocking

May 27, 2012

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

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

Parallel Accounts of the Trial Statement

Matthew 26:62–64

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

Mark 14:60–62

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

Luke 22:67–70

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

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

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

Matthew 16:63–64

“Tell us if you are the Messiah…”

[follows]

“You (sg) have said”

[omits]

“Son of Man sitting…”

“coming in the clouds of heaven”

Mark 14:61–62

“Are you the Messiah…?”

[follows]

[omits]

“I am”

“Son of Man sitting…”

“coming in the clouds of heaven”

Luke 22:69–70

“Are you the Son of God?”

“Son of man will be seated…”

“You (pl) say that…

… I am”

[precedes]

[omits]

Explanation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Conclusion

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

Peace!

Scott Stocking

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