Sunday Morning Greek Blog

August 13, 2024

Debunking The Skeptics Annotated Bible (SAB): Romans 1:3

I’m down to preaching on just the last Sunday of the month now, so I thought I’d take a stab at some apologetic articles on my off weeks and make a series out of the posts. I’ve referenced before the work of Steve Wells, The Skeptic’s Annotated Bible (SAB), in which he categorizes several different types of what he considers to be deficiencies in the biblical text like perceived or apparent inconsistencies, worldviews that would not have even been considered in biblical times, and things he thinks are ridiculous or silly. He uses the King James Version of the Bible, which is probably in the public domain at this point, so he didn’t even choose a good modern translation to critique. His criticisms reflect an extremely shallow understanding of Scripture and the nature and character of ancient texts generally, so admittedly, his work is low-hanging fruit for those of us who are Bible ninjas when it comes to defending the faith.

Having said that, then, I’ll tackle Romans 1:3 in this article (≠329)[1], but it will lend itself to debunking some of the other related inconsistencies as well.

The first is Romans 1:3, citing the KJV text he uses:

Concerning his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, which was made of the seed of David according to the flesh;[2]

Here’s the 2011 NIV translation of the same verse:

regarding his Son, who as to his earthly life g was a descendant of David,[3]

And since this is a blog about Greek, I’ll throw in the Greek text for giggles.

3 περὶ τοῦ υἱοῦ αὐτοῦ τοῦ γενομένου ἐκ σπέρματος Δαυὶδ κατὰ σάρκα,[4]

The question Wells asks here about the contradiction is: “Was Joseph the father of Jesus?” Under each entry in the index, he identifies other verses in the Bible that he has labeled with the same number and breaks the list down into the supposed contradictory answers. Interestingly enough, he seems to have his verses mixed up in the index entry, as he lists this particular verse under the “Yes” answer category, while the verses in Gospels for the birth stories of Jesus that explicitly identify Joseph as Jesus’s earthly “father” are under the “No” category.

First of all, basic common sense would leave most people to believe that “seed” is being used metaphorically here, not necessarily in reference to a biological child of the person who produced the “seed,” but more broadly to the concept of “descendant.” In fact, when the word for seed [σπέρμα (sperma), ατος (atos), τό (to)[5]] is not used to mean an actual seed of a plant, it appears in contexts where the concept of having descendants is emphasized (see, for example, Mark 12:20–22, the concept of levirate marriage). So Paul in Romans 1:3 isn’t talking about Jesus’s biological father (bio dad for you young ‘uns), but about Jesus coming from the lineage of David, through which the prophets of the Old Testament declared the Messiah would be born. Pretty straightforward, right?

But let’s not stop there, because if Paul had intended to say David was Jesus’s bio dad, he would have had a perfectly good Greek word to use, and he could have taken it straight from Matthew’s genealogy in Matthew 1:1–17, and as such, I’ll address some other contradictions (≠326 Matthew/Luke genealogy; ≠328 Who was Jesus’s paternal grandfather?; ≠261 Matthew/1 Chronicles genealogies; ≠325 number of generations) Wells identifies, the discrepancy between Matthew’s and Luke’s genealogies. The Greek word γεννάω (gennaō), according to Louw-Nida’s reference, means “the male role in causing the conception and birth of a child—‘to be the father of, to procreate, to beget.’ ”[6] So this is yet another proof that there’s no need to identify a contradiction in Romans 1:3, because Paul didn’t use the same term as Matthew there.

But wait! It gets even better! While Matthew’s genealogy begins with Abraham, the father of God’s covenant people, and ends with Joseph, Luke’s genealogy begins with Joseph and goes backwards to creation and Adam, the first man (of whom Jesus is the archetype, that is, the firstborn of all creation). Matthew’s genealogy probably skips a generation here or there so he can fit it into his three “fourteen generations” pattern (by the way, 3 x 14 = 42, so Jesus is the answer to the question of “What is the meaning of life, the universe, everything?” Some of my readers will get that.). But you can trace the genealogy to a certain historical point from the end of Ruth and in 1 Chronicles 3:10–17.

The standard historical interpretation of Luke’s “alternate” genealogy is that it traces Jesus’s lineage back through Mary and not Joseph. Note that when Luke introduces the genealogy, he says “being (as was supposed) the son of Joseph” (Luke 3:23 KJV). But verse 23 is the only time we see the word for “son” in the Greek text. The rest of the genealogy is just the genitive form of the definite article, so it’s literally “Joseph of Heli of Matthat of Levi…” and so on. “Son of” can be fairly discerned from the context, but it’s possible Luke uses just the definite article to cover his bases in case someone is missing from the genealogy. We know nothing about Jesus’s grandparents on either side, so it’s possible that the simple “of” in the first instance (“of Heli”) is connecting Joseph to Mary’s parents or lineage. After all, in Jewish tradition, the child’s “Jewishness” comes from the mother.

This is just one example of the shallow and rather thoughtless and unscholarly opposition to the truth and integrity of Scripture you’ll find in Wells’ SAB. Your comments made in good faith are always welcome. If you’d like to read more critiques about the SAB, I want to recommend you to my colleague SlimJim’s blog, The Domain for Truth (wordpress.com). He is an outstanding apologist for the faith.

Peace,

Scott Stocking

My views are my own.


[1] NOTE: As I go forward in this series, I will “tag” the index numbers so you can easily search for the contradictions among my blog posts.

[2] The Holy Bible: King James Version. 2009. Electronic Edition of the 1900 Authorized Version. Bellingham, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc.

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

[4] Aland, Kurt, Matthew Black, Carlo M. Martini, Bruce M. Metzger, Maurice A. Robinson, and Allen Wikgren. 1993; 2006. The Greek New Testament, Fourth Revised Edition (with Morphology). Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft.

[5] Swanson, James. 1997. In Dictionary of Biblical Languages with Semantic Domains: Greek (New Testament), electronic ed. Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, Inc.; those of you who know Greek will recognize that the noun is neuter, not masculine or feminine.

[6] Louw, Johannes P., and Eugene Albert Nida. 1996. In Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament: Based on Semantic Domains, electronic ed. of the 2nd edition., 1:256. New York: United Bible Societies.

July 28, 2024

The Lord’s “Lunch”: Feeding of the 5000 (John 6:1–21)

Historical Note: I preached this message at Mount View Presbyterian Church on July 28, 2024. After the service, the organist, who also manages the rotating schedule of preachers, mentioned to me that the pastor who is the moderator for the Session (church board) had preached on this passage the previous week, even though we’re encouraged to follow the lectionary, and had said the “miracle” of feeding the multitudes was that everyone shared their lunch. As you’ll read/hear in my message, I make no bones about this event being a genuine miracle, and even cited a couple instances where I’d heard this pastor’s particular interpretation many years ago, one of which was from a guest pastor at Mount View when I was in high school (yes, I remember part of a sermon I heard in high school). I had no idea she had put that idea forward when I prepared my message, although I do believe God prompted me to include my own historical experience in my message.
I was standing with my mom when the organist told me that, and they both appreciated that I defended the position that the event was a true miracle of multiplication and providence. They had never heard the “shared-their-lunch” theory before and were a little confused about that, though it’s likely some sharing did happen in such a large crowd. It’s funny but sad that Satan knows Jesus could turn stones to bread but some don’t think Jesus could create bread from nothing.
–Scott

Jesus just wanted some alone time. John’s gospel doesn’t put the events of Jesus’s ministry in chronological order, so we don’t always get the historical context. In the Synoptic Gospels, we see that Jesus was quite busy with his ministry up to this point. He was traveling around healing and working miracles, even raising the dead. He had been confronting the religious leadership, sometimes through his parables. He even settled on his 12 disciples that formed his core group.

But the “triggering” event, it would seem, was the death of a beloved family member. The story of the death of Jesus’s cousin, John the Baptist, precedes the account of the feeding of the 5,000 in the Synoptic Gospels. Matthew, Mark, and Luke seem to be making the point that this was foremost in Jesus’s mind when, as Matthew says (14:13) “he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place,” and Mark and Luke tell us that the disciples went with him.

But Jesus already had quite a following, so it wasn’t easy for him to get away from the crowds. Even though he was in a remote place, the crowd came out in droves, because they wanted to hear more, and Jesus did not disappoint. But as Jesus was wont to do, he just kept teaching because the sheep needed a shepherd. I imagine the disciples had started getting hungry and sensing the crowd’s hunger long before one of the disciples spoke up. John suggests Jesus was setting them up, as he already had in mind to do this miraculous feeding.

I think we all know what happened, but there are a few details of the story that are worth highlighting here. First of all, it’s one of the few accounts of Jesus’s ministry that appears in all four gospels. The main event of the story is the same, but there are some minor differences in the details of the story about who spoke and who acted. Some people might see this as contradictions in the biblical account, but actually it shows that there were four different eyewitness accounts and that each writer mentions specific things. For example, John says Jesus asked how they would get enough bread to feed them. Jesus likely knew that the disciples had been talking amongst themselves about asking Jesus to send the crowd away to get their own food, as in the other three gospels, but John doesn’t mention that.

The agreement among that particular aspect of the story is that Jesus and the disciples seem to have an obligation for the well-being of the crowd. But while the disciples are thinking practically and economically about a solution, Jesus is thinking miraculously and ultimately spiritually, and to a certain extent, ecclesiastically, that is, how he expects the “congregation” to act when they’re together. I’ll dive into that a little later in the message.

Mark adds what seems to be a reference to the Old Testament, just before the Jews received the Ten Commandments at Sinai. Normally we might expect Matthew to add an OT detail. Mark says the people sat down in groups of hundreds and fifties, agreeing with Jesus’s direction in John. This seems to refer to the time when Jethro told Moses that his burden as judge was too great and that he needed to delegate the resolution of disputes to capable men who could manage dispute resolution by appointing “officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties, tens.” That would make things easier for Moses to manage, as the lower officials could handle the small stuff. In the same way, the disciples would have an easier time managing the feeding of about 20,000 people (remember, the story specifies 5,000 “men”), even though at that point, the disciples still apparently had no idea how they would feed that many with a little boy’s lunch.

Now I want to emphasize here that I believe the feeding of the 5,000 was a real miracle of God’s providence for those who were following Jesus. Forty some years ago, some of you may remember the church near us that burned down (North Side??), and Mount View offered to share our building with them so they could continue to hold services. I think for a while we had separate services, then combined services in the summer. I distinctively remember their pastor speaking on this passage and suggesting that the “miracle” here was that everyone in the crowd was so inspired by Jesus thinking he could feed them with five loaves and two fish that they shared their own lunches with everyone around them. A few years later, I read that in one of my seminary text books as well. That’s a nice sentiment, but I. Now I’m relatively confident there actually was some sharing going on in a crowd that large, but if it was whole crowd, how could they have collected twelve basketfuls of broken pieces? Wouldn’t the crowd have kept their own portions for later? And the fact that the disciples and Jesus all seemed to recognize that the crowd didn’t have much food, and that they had stayed there listening to Jesus much longer than anyone had anticipated, tells me that God did indeed miraculously multiply the loaves and fishes for the crowd.

Bread was considered sacred to the Jews, so after a meal, they always had to collect any that was leftover, even if it had fallen on the ground. No five-second rule in that case! That’s the backstory behind the collection after the meal. But it’s worth talking about the baskets as well. Some of you may know that there’s also a story about feeding 4,000 people in Matthew’s and Mark’s gospels, and they picked up seven baskets after that event. The conventional wisdom is that the baskets [κόφινος (kophinos)] in our passage today were probably the disciples’ lunch baskets (perhaps because there were 12 baskets) that they carried with them when travelling, however a few sources think they may be larger. The seven baskets [σπυρίς (spyris)] in the feeding of the 4,000 story were thought to be somewhat larger, but we have no way of knowing for sure in either case. The point is, there was plenty leftover after the miraculous provision, and it’s likely that others collected the leftovers for themselves as well.

I mentioned earlier how these miraculous feeding stories tend to look forward a bit as well, both to their spiritual and practical significance. In John especially, the example Jesus sets here establishes the standard that allows him to say toward the end of chapter 6, after walking on water, “I am the bread of life.” His statement in 6:35 that “Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty” hearkens back to the woman at the well in John 4, where he says those who drink the water he gives would never thirst again. Remember, the Jews considered bread sacred, so when Jesus says he’s the bread of life, he’s saying he’s the life that comes from God and is imparted to us when we believe. Before he says he’s the bread of life, he mentions the manna in the wilderness: that’s what kept the Israelites alive for their 40-year wandering.

Additionally, you don’t need to be a scholar to see the connection with the Lord’s Supper. Jesus took the bread, gave thanks, broke it, and distributed it to his disciples. When they saw him break the bread at the Lord’s Supper, I’m sure every single one of them was reminded of the feeding miracles. “This is my body.” “I am the bread of life.” If they hadn’t already made the connection, they made it at the Lord’s Supper. Jesus would be their life, their salvation, and they were to remind themselves of that when they gathered by taking the bread and the cup. He even says, “Do this in remembrance of me.” That must have mystified some of them, because even though he had been talking about his impending death, even at the Lord’s Supper they probably didn’t realize the time was at hand. He took the sacred ritual of the Passover and redefined it around his own impending sacrifice. No longer would it be about breaking free from the bondage of Egypt over a millennium earlier; now it would be about being released from the power of sin once and for all by his death. “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.” It brings forgiveness, hope, and peace.

In a world of traveling by shank’s mare or a real mare, people took their time. That’s why we see in the early church in the book of Acts, believers are meeting together in homes and breaking bread together, both for a meal, as the disciples did at the Lord’s Supper, and for what we know as communion today to remember the Lord’s Supper and his sacrifice. The life of the early church was built around strong community bonds rarely seen today. Back then, their weekly meetings probably lasted a full day when you include the meal and whatever instruction they received from God’s word. Today, most congregations limit their services to about an hour. “Everybody comes and goes so quickly here,” as Dorothy said about Oz. Even with all our fancy technology, we still have trouble staying connected at times.

Regardless of the size of one’s congregation, it’s important that you always work to foster and maintain that sense of community. Your potlucks and quilting bees and other activities are important parts of that sense of community and your identity as a church family. That sense of community and identity helps you discover your purpose and mission as well. Never lose sight of that.

[On the audio: Extemporaneous sidebar on the Walking on the Water passage. Main point: You need to let Jesus into your boat when the storms of life assail you.]

I know some of the best times for me, especially in this past week as my daughter Erin and her husband were preparing to move to San Antonio, are when we can have a leisurely meal at home and then sit around the table and play a board game together. After having her close by for over four years, it will be a while before I’ll get to see her in person again. I will certainly cherish that time, even though I lost every game we played. That doesn’t happen too often.

In our gospel passage today, we see that not only does Jesus have lordship over the food produced on land and in the sea, but he also has lordship and authority over the weather as well by walking on water. Because all authority in heaven and earth has been given to him, he is able to be a high priest who understands our needs and strengthens us where we are weak. He is our Savior, and we praise him for what he has done and is doing in our lives.

The stories of the feeding of the multitudes are not about how Christians can feed the world, but about how God “feeds” us and strengthens us in his Word and affirms us in our salvation. God provides for us, sometimes through our own skill and labor, but other times through his miraculous provision. May we always look to Jesus for the eternal life and hope he offers to us. Amen.

May 13, 2024

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

Message preached on May 12, 2024, (Mother’s Day; Ascension Sunday) at Mount View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE. Scripture readings for the day were Psalm 1 and Luke 24:44–53 (from Ascension Thursday).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My heart rejoices in the Lord;

in the Lord my horn u is lifted high.

My mouth boasts over my enemies,

for I delight in your deliverance.

“There is no one holy like the Lord;

there is no one besides you;

there is no Rock like our God.

“Do not keep talking so proudly

or let your mouth speak such arrogance,

for the Lord is a God who knows,

and by him deeds are weighed.

“The bows of the warriors are broken,

but those who stumbled are armed with strength.

Those who were full hire themselves out for food,

but those who were hungry are hungry no more.

She who was barren has borne seven children,

but she who has had many sons pines away.

“The Lord brings death and makes alive;

he brings down to the grave and raises up.

The Lord sends poverty and wealth;

he humbles and he exalts.

He raises the poor from the dust

and lifts the needy from the ash heap;

he seats them with princes

and has them inherit a throne of honor.

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

on them he has set the world.

He will guard the feet of his faithful servants,

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

“It is not by strength that one prevails;

10   those who oppose the Lord will be broken.

The Most High will thunder from heaven;

the Lord will judge the ends of the earth.

“He will give strength to his king

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

March 24, 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was oppressed and afflicted,

yet he did not open his mouth;

he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,

and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,

so he did not open his mouth.

By oppression and judgment he was taken away.

Yet who of his generation protested?

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

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

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

The Lord says to my lord:

“Sit at my right hand

until I make your enemies

a footstool for your feet.”

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

“Rule in the midst of your enemies!”

Your troops will be willing

on your day of battle.

Arrayed in holy splendor,

your young men will come to you

like dew from the morning’s womb. j

The Lord has sworn

and will not change his mind:

“You are a priest forever,

in the order of Melchizedek.”[3]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My thoughts are my own.

Scott Stocking


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

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

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

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

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

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

December 31, 2023

Praising the Savior (Luke 2:22–40)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

11 kings of the earth and all nations,

you princes and all rulers on earth,

12 young men and women,

old men and children.

13 Let them praise the name of the Lord,

for his name alone is exalted;

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

April 13, 2023

Some Thoughts on Inerrancy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scott


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[9] Campbell, Thomas. Declaration and Address.

March 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)

Click to Listen (2022 message)

Click to Listen (2025 revision)

Prosperity without genuine charity magnifies disparity.

I preached this sermon at Mt. View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE, September 25, 2022. Lightly edited for publication. I modified the original message when the passage came up in the Lectionary again and preached it on September 28, 2025. I’m retaining the original text of the 2022 message for the blog.

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.

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