Sunday Morning Greek Blog

May 19, 2025

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

I preached this message May 18, 2025, at Mount View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE. Fifth Sunday after Easter, Year C.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

13 Let them praise the name of the Lord,

for his name alone is exalted;

his splendor is above the earth and the heavens.

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

the praise of all his faithful servants,

of Israel, the people close to his heart.

Praise the Lord. [7]

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

November 20, 2024

How Near the End (Mark 13)

I preached this message on November 17, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, NE.

“THE END IS NEAR!!!”

We heard that quite a bit in the last six months, didn’t we? Anybody miss that? What’s amazing is that once election day was over, we switched from doom-and-gloom political ads to “happy-happy-joy-joy” nonstop Christmas ads and Hallmark Christmas movies in a heartbeat. How is it that we as a culture can make such a radical switch from one extreme to another and not seemingly bat an eye?

I don’t have an answer to that question, and I’m sure no one else does either. If they think they do, run away! Jesus’s ministry in the gospels seems to be going the opposite direction of the way things have been going for us of late. Jesus’s ministry begins with joy. In John’s gospel, his first miracle is to turn the water into wine at the wedding in Cana. Matthew’s Gospel begins with the joy of the birth of the savior and the stories of how wise men and shepherds alike rejoiced at his birth. We see healings and miracles aplenty early in the gospel stories

But as Jesus got closer to his crucifixion, his teaching and actions began to get a little darker. Just after his triumphal entry in Mark 11, we see him overturning the tables of the moneychangers and throwing them out of his Father’s house. We see sharper confrontations with the Pharisees and Sadducees. The disciples begin to wonder why he’s talking about his death and about going away and sending another in his place. It culminates with talk of betrayal at the Last Supper and his arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane. The disciples are coming to the realization that what they thought would be an overthrow of Roman rule and reestablishment of the Jewish monarchy or theocracy wasn’t going to happen.

In our gospel text this morning, we’re about half-way through the last week of Jesus’s ministry on earth. Jesus begins to speak about the time of the end. We only get the introduction to his monologue about the end times: his warnings extend through the whole chapter. He begins by telling them not to be deceived. In other gospel accounts of this story, we find out that Satan will be hard at work in those days deceiving even the believers. He’s trying to get them to turn away from God.

If that’s not bad enough, he starts talking about wars, rumors of wars, earthquakes, famine, pestilence, death, and worse, if at all possible, and those things are just the beginning! Of course, he started all this by saying all the magnificent buildings in Jerusalem would be utterly destroyed, without one stone left on top of the other.

Before we look any further into this, I think it’s okay to jump to the end of the story, because most of us know what that is: “You will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory” (vs. 26). When I was in high school in the ‘70s, mom started leaving a bunch of Christian comic book tracts around the house for us to read. Now I’d grown up going to Sunday School here pretty regularly, but those tracts talked about the “second coming of Jesus.” If I had heard that in Sunday school here, it must have gone right over my head. That was kind of exciting to me. I wanted to know more. I read everything I could get my hands on about the subject. It ultimately led to me make, affirm, and take ownership of my own confession of faith.

Little did I know I was stepping into the middle of a huge debate about just how and when that second coming would take place. The predominant view of the tracts was that Jesus would “rapture” or “call up to heaven” the church at the beginning of a seven-year tribulation period alluded to in Daniel 7:25 and again at the end of his prophecy in 12:7. An alternate view said that Christians would not be raptured until half-way through this seven-year period. These were perhaps the most popular views among many Christians in that day.

The idea behind these is that the church would escape the tribulation of the end times, or at least the worst of it in the mid-tribulation perspective, because the thought was that the church had never in history experienced persecution. But a quick review of history would prove that belief false. The early church in Acts experienced persecution at the hands of the Jews at first. Initially, Rome tried to stay out of apparently. It wasn’t until Nero and the destruction of Jerusalem did that persecution reach its height early on. But eventually, Constantine would adopt Christianity as a “State” religion a couple centuries later.

The problem with the pretribulation view for some scholars is that it wasn’t ever articulated with any sort of clarity or consistency until the early 19th century, not even the so-called rapture. The early church fathers may have some snippets here and there that hint at it, but nothing solid. That’s not to say those hints weren’t accurate. The mid-tribulation view developed even later than that. It is possible that the church up to that point in history didn’t make a big deal about the “when” because they knew they didn’t know when. Jesus even admits in Mark 13:32 that he doesn’t know when. I think the only fair thing we can say about it is that we don’t know when and the early church didn’t really care when, even though many tried to discern the signs.

The view that was popular when I was in seminary is called the “amillennial” position. This view sees the “millennium,” or thousand-year binding of Satan in Revelation 20:2, as “code” for the reign of the church on earth. “Millennium” in that view simply represents a very long period of time. At the end of that thousand-year reign (figuratively speaking), Satan is released from those chains to “go out to deceive the nations.” Some think we might be in those times now.

Another support for that view is a biblical passage suggesting the rapture comes at the end of the tribulation period, between the sixth and the seventh (final) bowls of wrath in Revelation 16:15: Jesus says: “Look, I come like a thief! Blessed is the one who stays awake and remains clothed, so as not to go naked and be shamefully exposed.” It’s almost as if that time of persecution was intended to purify the church and prepare her as the bride of Christ in the final consummation of human history. That phrase “Look, I come like a thief,” is the language used in 1 Thessalonians 4 and 5 (specifically, 5:2) to describe that moment when we are all “changed” in the twinkling of an eye into our heavenly bodies for the rapture of the living and the resurrection of the dead.

Other views exist but have limited exposure or are not widely accepted. But whatever you believe about if and when the rapture occurs or when the tribulation starts or anything like that has nothing to do with your eternal salvation. Jesus said we wouldn’t know the day or hour, so how can he judge us on such a thing? So what is the point of Mark and the other gospel writers of telling us about what is to come? I think we all know the answer to that: HOPE!

Getting back to Mark 13, Jesus goes on to say that he wants us to be ready for that day, and he gives us some warning signs to look out for it and tons of encouragement to endure it. After warning us about wars and rumors of wars (plenty of those going around these days) and other civil and political unrest, he tells us to be on our guard. It’s almost as if he’s talking about the apostle Paul’s experience (Acts 21:27ff; compare Acts 20:31 with Mark 13:9) in the next few verses. Paul was arrested in the temple, beaten by the Jews, and from there he was subjected to a series of trials before several Roman rulers because he appealed to Rome. One might say after his first three missionary journeys, he was embarking on a fourth missionary journey, this time as a prisoner of Rome. What a way to be a missionary, eh?

Paul may have been the exemplar of the persecution described in Mark 13:9–13, but he would not be the only one who would face trials, persecution, and even death. Legend has it that Peter was crucified upside down on a cross because he didn’t deserve to be crucified upright as Jesus was. In Acts 12:2, we know Herod had James, the brother of John, put to death with the sword. Many Christians through history would suffer similar fates for their profession of faith.

We are no longer immune to this in America, either. We’ve numerous examples of our own government going after Christians for their beliefs and for “standing guard” to protect children from influences we wouldn’t have thought possible a generation ago. Jesus warns us that there will be false messiahs everywhere (our political leaders are NOT messiahs!) trying to deceive us. We will see dreadful signs in the heavens. But in his mercy, the Lord will cut those days short. Is the end near? It’s closer than it was yesterday.

So again, regardless of how these events play out, we can be certain that they will play out at some point. So how do we get ready? If indeed we as Christians are going to experience the persecution, and Jesus’s statement in Mark 13:13 about “the one who stands firm to the end will be saved” seems to hint at that in some respects, then how can we get ourselves prepared for what will come?

My concern here is not to address the physical and material components of “getting ready.” We have an abundance of “preppers” out there that can speak to those things, assuming we will experience a significant part of the tribulation. My concern for us as believers is how do we get our souls and our friends and family ready for the return of Christ.

Jesus says in Mark 13:10 that “the gospel must first be preached to all nations.” That is the missionary function of the church. This doesn’t just mean that we send missionaries overseas. We’ve seen in the last few years that the world is coming to us. As concerning as some aspects of that might be, it does present us with opportunities to share the gospel with those who are truly hungry for that and who want a better life for themselves. But it also presents us with opportunities for more difficult tasks for those who have “certain skills” to address the more sinister evils of human trafficking and abuse. Our prayers to end such evils will not be ignored.

We should also continue to meet together as a body of believers and keep focused on God’s word as much as possible. The more we dig into God’s word, the more we will be able to recognize the signs of times, as Jesus would have us do. Paul says in 1 Thessalonians 5:4–5: “But you, brothers and sisters, are not in darkness so that this day should surprise you like a thief. You are all children of the light and children of the day. We do not belong to the night or to the darkness.”

Paul goes on from there to encourage believers to put on the full armor of God in verse 8. Of course, he details the armor of God, that is, the armor that God himself is said to wear in the Old Testament, in Ephesians 6. He wants us to be able to stand in those last days and stand firmly. He doesn’t want us leaving anything to chance.

In our small corner of the world here at Mount View, we do have a vital and thriving ministry relevant to the size of the congregation. Rejoice in the opportunities you have to share the gospel with others, but don’t be afraid to look for or take on new opportunities as they may come your way. God would not send those opportunities your way if he didn’t think you could handle them. Whatever that is might be easy, or it might take some courage and a step of faith. But I’ve seen your faith and your dedication to this ministry, and I know you will find ways to help strengthen your faith and broaden your outreach to our little corner of the word and beyond. The end is getting nearer every day, and the urgency to share God’s word with those who need to hear it grows as well. Take courage! Have faith! Let us all stand firm as we await the blessed appearance of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen!

Scott Stocking

My views are my own.

The Greatest Gifts (Mark 12:38–44)

This message was preached at Mount View Presbyterian Church in Omaha, NE, on November 10, 2024.

My favorite stories of all time are told by J.R.R. Tolkien in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy. The main characters in the two stories, Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit and his nephew Frodo Baggins in the Lord of the Rings, are from a race of people called “Hobbits.” They were a short people, too short to mount and ride a standard horse, who lived in a tranquil, almost Edenic part of the fictional land known as “Middle Earth” called “The Shire.” They were a peaceful race enjoying fine tobacco in their pipes, several meals a day (including second breakfast), and well-tended gardens. They were relatively untouched by the evils and political strife in faraway lands like the Misty Mountains, Mirkwood Forest (where there are spiders), and the dark fortress of Sauron in Mordor. They are however fascinated by the Elves who live in those faraway places, as they will sometimes pass through the Shire on their way to the Sea.

They are the quintessential “home bodies,” with a great distaste for adventure and conflict. In spite of this, Bilbo and Frodo are destined to become legends in the great battles against the evil forces that want to take over, dominate, and pillage Middle Earth in their greed and desire for power. Fourteen dwarves show up at Bilbo’s “hole-home” in the Shire one evening and hire him to be their “burglar,” who’s job would be to go into the dragon Smaug’s lair under The Lonely Mountain and retrieve their most prized possession and recapture their home under the mountain. Along the way, Bilbo finds a ring, which happens to be THE ring of power that would be passed on to Frodo, who would after an arduous journey, destroy the ring of power in Mount Doom and thus rid Middle Earth of the Evil Sauron forever.

I love these stories because they show how “the least of us” can have a powerful impact for good in a world seemingly dominated by the wealthy, the politically powerful, and those with great military might or cunning. Many brave, strong, and noble men, elves, and dwarves longed to destroy this power. The problem for Sauron was, he only feared the collective strength of these mighty men, so he was always ready to confront and attack the armies of good. He never suspected that two little Hobbits from the Shire would carry that ring of power right into the heart of his kingdom and cast that ring into the fiery lava of Mount Doom where it was forged.

In our Gospel passage today, we see a stark contrast between the wealthy, self-righteous people, including the religious leaders, and a poor widow who gives two copper coins. For whatever reason, the religious leaders in Jesus’s day had fallen into the “social-status” trap, and they were oppressing the people with a legalistic and inflated “tithe” (two- to three-times a regular tithe), which in some cases may have forced widows to sell their homes just to pay this inflated tithe along with the Roman taxes. In our day, some politicians might call that a “wealth tax,” or a “tax on unrealized gains.” But the religious leaders apparently didn’t care whether you had the cash to cover it. They just wanted their cut, and if they had to “devour widows’ houses” to do it, sobeit.

Herod’s Temple in that day seems to have been an ostentatious place with extravagant decorations. One later tradition claims there were 13 receptacles in the Court of Women where male and female visitors could place their offerings. I do find it to be a bit “curmudgeony” of Mark (and Jesus) to tell us that Jesus sat opposite the tithe collection area while the rich walked around making a big show about their giving and perhaps even their judging about how much certain people might be putting in. He certainly was NOT in a seat of honor; he was just hanging out with his disciples people-watching.

Amidst all the finery the temple and the religious leaders were adorned with, Jesus is looking out for something quite the opposite. What catches his eye? A widow, humbly dressed in old, probably slightly worn clothing (perhaps her best outfit) who approaches one of the fancy offering receptacles, probably worth more than all that woman’s earthly possessions, who deposits two of the smallest coins available, barely worth a nickel. Was she thinking about how the religious leaders seemed to be spending more on themselves than they did the poor? Was she worried about what others who saw her might think about her and her seemingly meager contribution? Was she even worried about her future if she was giving all she had?

My guess is no, she wasn’t concerned about any of that. Her only thought in that moment, at least as Jesus implies, is that she was putting her whole trust in God. Just like the woman with the bleeding condition who reached out just to touch the hem of Jesus’s garment and was healed, this woman reasoned that God would provide for her needs. When you’re down to nothing, the only thing left is faith or despair. She chose faith. We don’t know anything else about this woman’s history, but I’m guessing she must have had an amazing story to part with whatever worldly wealth she had left. She must have some life experience that affirmed her faith. This was the greatest gift she could have given within her means.

This woman understood the concern for the poor in the Old Testament. She knew the promise of Psalm 23:1: “The Lord is my shepherd, I have everything I need.” She understood that God “satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things (Psalm 107:9) when “they cry out to the Lord in their trouble” (vs. 6). She counted on the faithfulness of others who practiced the principles of Isaiah 58:7: to “Share [their] food with the hungry and provide the poor wanderer with shelter.” That chapter in Isaiah may be the basis for the passage in Matthew about not hiding your lamp under a basket but putting it on a stand to give light to the whole world.

Our OT passage this morning, Psalm 146, is pretty clear that caring for the poor and needy is the primary responsibility of the people of God. The psalmist says, “Don’t put your trust in princes…who cannot save.” Like Jehoshaphat in the OT who put the choir out in front of the army as that went out to battle, and in so doing threw the enemy into such confusion that they destroyed themselves, so here in Psalm 146 the psalmist puts praise first: “Praise the Lord! Praise the Lord, my soul. I will praise the Lord all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.” The power of praise is immeasurable.

The woman in the gospel story saw her giving, her gift, as a means of praising God. She was expressing thanks with a monetary gift, but I don’t doubt that she knew the psalms of praise as well. She knew how singing or reciting those psalms made her feel in her spirit. She knew how God supported those who felt oppressed or beaten down by a system corrupted by greedy leaders who cared more about rules than about the people they demanded obedience from.

This woman may have heard of Jesus at the time, but she may not have had the same level of knowledge or understanding of who Jesus is or what he came to accomplish as his disciples. After the resurrection the author of Hebrews describes Jesus’s ministry in this way:

24 For Christ did not enter a sanctuary made with human hands that was only a copy of the true one; he entered heaven itself, now to appear for us in God’s presence. 25 Nor did he enter heaven to offer himself again and again, the way the high priest enters the Most Holy Place every year with blood that is not his own. 26 Otherwise Christ would have had to suffer many times since the creation of the world. But he has appeared once for all at the culmination of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself. 27 Just as people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment, 28 so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him.[1]

Giving is an act of worship. When we give to the work of the kingdom of God, we participate in the work of the kingdom of God. We give because Christ has given his all. It’s not that we could ever give enough to repay him for that. We can’t. There’s not enough money in the world. That’s what this passage from Hebrews says. Christ went ahead of us to prepare a place for us in heaven. Christ is interceding for us even now as we minister for him on earth.

Christ’s death and resurrection is central to two of the sacraments we hold most dear: Communion and baptism. Communion brings us to the table at Christ’s invitation to remember his body and the covenant in his blood. Baptism connects us to the body and blood of Christ through the symbolism of death, burial, and resurrection. Giving keeps the ministry of the local church and the church at large “solvent” so we can continue to share the good news of Jesus in our communities and around the world.

The author of Hebrews emphasizes that Christ’s sacrifice was once for all. That was his greatest gift to us. Earlier in Hebrews 6, the author warns about recrucifying Christ if we try to “repent” again. The point the author is making that we only need to repent once. In other words, we only need to admit Christ is Lord once. After that, the goal of the Christian life should be to grow into a mature relationship with Christ where you’re not stuck eating “baby food” all the time. At some point, the author of Hebrews expects you get into the meat and potatoes of the Christian walk and become mature. In other words, the answer for backsliding or falling away from living a faithful Christian life is not to repent again, but recommit yourself to maturity.

Part of this maturity is recognizing the second time Jesus comes, not to be put on a cross again, but win the final victory over sin and death and usher us into his eternal home. What a glorious day that will be. Of course, we don’t know when that will happen. Some days lately it seems like that event may be closer than we think. The other days not so much. Our job isn’t to figure out when: our job is to be ready for when it does happen.

Like Bilbo and Frodo, we must walk the walk with courage, strength, and trust in God, all gifts that he imparts to us, especially in the more difficult times. Our ministry of giving is just as important as our ministry of sharing the gospel, of taking communion together as a body, and of baptizing and welcoming new members of the kingdom into our midst. We want that final day to see large throngs welcoming us into our eternal home. May God forever be praised. Amen.


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

November 2, 2024

Renewed and Restored: Psalm 126

This message was preached October 27, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church, Omaha, NE.

Let me start this morning by talking about “recent events” around these parts. Mom keeps me informed about the congregation’s relationship with the Powers that Be. I have been praying that you can find a moderator who has the vision and the heart to help Mount View thrive. I want to let you know, here and now, with God and you as my witnesses, that I will stand with you and support you in any way possible as you look to your next steps with Mary Ann’s departure since I’m going to be here every Sunday through the end of the year. If you need pastoral care, I will make myself available as much as possible around my teaching commitment and my day job. Most of you know I have a deep historical connection to this congregation; I have a genuine heart for the health and vibrancy of this congregation. I believe in the value and worth of each of you and your corporate mission and that this congregation can still have and does currently have an apostolic ministry in this neighborhood, in this city, and in this world, as the Gospels and the Presbyterian Book of Order describe. The messages preached from this pulpit are being heard around the world (more than 5,000 downloads as of this week), so your ministry is not isolated amidst these four walls.

Psalm 126 is a trip down memory for the psalmist and his audience. But I want to take a trip down memory lane for us as well. Like the psalmist, I want us to remember the time when we were a full church, when the Lord had given us “fortune.” I remember at least a dozen kids in each Sunday school class most mornings. I remember the kids that Kevin Orr brought over from the Omaha Home for Boys each Sunday. I remember big youth group meetings with at least 40 kids present, and I remember a trip to Worlds of Fun with the youth group. I have a memory, a hazy one at my age, of getting my first Bible with my name engraved on the cover, signed by Karen Englesman and Pastor Loren Parker on May 21, 1972. I even remember going over to Karen’s house for help memorizing Bible verses for Confirmation class, and I went on to memorize Paul’s letter to the Ephesians 20 years later and still have it memorized today.

I know there are others who were touched by the ministry of our congregation in that day, and many of them went on to have ongoing influence in our congregation and elsewhere for the kingdom. Some of you are still here 50 years later. Mount View was a lot like the first three verses of Psalm 126 when I was growing up here in the 70s. I still see that laughter and joy in you when I’m here, and it gladdens my heart.

When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion,

we were like those who dreamed.

Our mouths were filled with laughter,

our tongues with songs of joy.

Then it was said among the nations,

“The Lord has done great things for them.”

The Lord has done great things for us,

and we are filled with joy. [1]

This psalm, and psalm 125 before it, were probably written together several years after the return from exile and were recited together when they came up in the synagogue service. Now I didn’t do the counting, but a note in my study Bible says both psalms have 116 syllables. The number of syllables isn’t significant, but the fact that they have the same number of syllables is. They were probably sung to the same tune or with a similar cadence. Together they tell the story of life and hope after returning from exile. Psalm 125 recounts the victory over the enemy and the confidence they had after returning home. Psalm 126 starts with the joy they experienced at that time.

This is where the last three verses of Psalm 126 come home to us, I think. It would seem several years have passed in the storyline between vss. 3 and 4. Verse 4 sounds like a prayer: “Restore our fortunes, Lord, like streams in the Negev.” Whatever joy and fortune they had in the past is seemingly gone now. We don’t know why or how it disappeared. But that’s not relevant, because vss. 5–6 have the answer to the prayer:

Those who sow with tears

will reap with songs of joy.

Those who go out weeping,

carrying seed to sow,

will return with songs of joy,

carrying sheaves with them. [2]

Now I don’t believe there are any coincidences in the Kingdom of God. I’ve spoken before about Judy asking me to follow the lectionary with our Scripture passages in the bulletin, and I decided it would be a good exercise for me to base my sermons on those passages, typically the Gospel passages. This month is my third anniversary of filling the pulpit here, which means I’ve nearly gone through a complete three-year cycle of the lectionary. When Judy sends me the bulletin in advance, I usually only check the Scripture readings and then send back my message title. However, I have noticed on more than one occasion that some of the main points I have made in my message for a certain Sunday have shown up in the prayers and responsive readings that aren’t copied from the Bible, and Judy never had an advance copy of my message. Funny how God works that way, right?

But enough of the boring background: In beginning 10 weeks in row with you, I’ve been praying how God might use me for such a time as this, and it seems like Psalm 126 is the perfect passage for that. I would like to forth to you that you adopt Psalm 126:4 as theme prayer for our congregation here: “Restore our fortunes.” The COVID pandemic robbed many small churches of their members and their ministries, and many closed down. But you have managed to find purpose in your quilting ministry, among other activities, and that purpose is one of the binds that keeps you going. Here’s my challenge to you: when you pray that prayer of Psalm 126:4, ask God what verses 5 and 6 might look like for the congregation. We have all been saddened by the losses suffered through COVID shutdowns, but what are the “songs of joy” we could reap? What does “carrying seed to sow” look like for the congregation? How would you envision what “carrying in the sheaves” means?

Whatever had caused the decline in prosperity that prompted the psalmist to lift up the prayer of vs. 4 was obviously very heart wrenching to the Jews as evidenced by the tears and weeping of vv. 5 and 6. With the talk of reaping and planting seeds, it may be fair to assume they’d been afflicted by a drought or something that caused their crops to fail. But despite their sorrows and tears, they are determined to plant and reap once more. Although at the surface this seems to be strictly agricultural, this also seems to be a spiritual event as well, encouraging them to rejoice in God’s provision. The question I put before you this morning, then, is what kind of seeds would you sow to add to the harvest of God’s kingdom? What kind of “restoration” would you like to see? I don’t think God is concerned about the size or pace of whatever ideas you might have for restoration; he just wants you to dream and trust that he will provide the growth, whatever that may look like.

I believe God is moving in his people now to start and sustain a revival. The church Jill and I attend just added a third service two years after opening a huge worship center that seats over 1,000. Younger people seem to be coming back to spirituality and faith in many areas. I believe Mount View has the potential to have a strong outreach in this part of Omaha. But what that looks like, I can’t say for sure, and I wouldn’t want to put God in a box by suggesting any one area to focus on. I have some ideas that respect where we’re at as a congregation and that don’t involve a contemporary worship band shaking the rafters! All I know at this point is that you have the grit and determination to keep this congregation alive and to cause the Presbytery to sit up and take notice of you if you so desire.

I will tell you that I’m going to pray the same prayer for myself, as the timing of my two-month (at least) stint with you is not a coincidence either. Jill got pushed out of her job of 12 years a couple weeks ago, so we’ll need the extra income this affords. But I’ve never looked at this as a paycheck. I love being able to return to the place that established me in the faith and share in the ministry of proclaiming the gospel with you. I honestly sense from the Holy Spirit that he wants me to be a strong encourager to you at this time. I had a few things happen in the last ten days that could only be from God that confirms to me I should be doing more than just preaching in the next two months.

I know I’ve probably come on a little strong this morning but given what you’ve gone through since reconvening after COVID, I sensed that you need an extra dose of encouragement and courage. I want to fair and forthright with you, though: I’ve got too many irons in the fire right now to say I’m “all in,” but I’m in as much as my schedule will allow. God is working on my heart too with respect to ministry, and I feel a fire in my bones as well. Perhaps, like Esther, God has brought me here for such a time as this, whatever that looks like. I’m excited to be here for the next two months to see what God has in store for us. I hope you’ll come along for the ride!

Before I close, I don’t want to ignore our Gospel passage this morning (Mark 10:46–52). Jesus did a true miracle in opening the eyes of a blind man. That was a real event as far as I’m concerned, a genuine miracle. It’s not a metaphor or some psychological truth couched in a legend story or however else some theologians try to downplay it. But just as the miracle is real, so is the guiding principle of the account, that God can do great things through Jesus and those of us who follow him. I pray that we would be aware of the opportunities around us to continue to share the good news of Jesus with those who need hope. I pray that God would open the eyes of those around us to see the joy and commitment of this congregation and desire to be a part of it.

Restore our fortunes, Lord, like streams in the Negev.

Scott Stocking

My opinions are my own.


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

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

September 29, 2024

Lusting, Lopping, and Living (Mark 9:38–50)

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Before I get into my message this morning, I feel I should probably say a word about the title of my message, “Lusting, Lopping, and Living.” One of my first classes in seminary when I started 37 years ago was a class where we had to write a research paper on a Bible passage so we could learn the school’s writing style guide. At the time, many of the preachers in that school’s tradition had a practice of using a three-point (usually) alliterated outline of what their sermon was about. In our writing class, the instructor, Professor Tanner, emphasized that this would be a good way grab and hold the audience’s attention. He also mentioned that sermon titles should be short and catch people’s attention.

At that time, I was still a single young man who had just moved 500 miles from home to begin that new adventure. Having a desire to avoid temptation in a new environment, one of the passages I held close to my heart was Matthew’s version of the “Stumble” or “Temptations” passage in the Sermon on the Mount about cutting out of our lives that which causes us to sin. With that passage close to my heart at the time, and given what my instructor had said about grabbing and keeping people’s attention with what I would write, it took about two seconds for me to write down my passage and the proposed title of my paper and submit it. Thus the title, “Lusting, Lopping, and Living.” Professor Tanner was so impressed with my proposed title he said he was tempted to give me an “A” for the assignment based on the title alone. I did get an “A” on the paper in the end, but it remains to be seen if you’ll give me an “A” for my message this morning!

This section of the Gospel we’re in, Mark 8–10, is a summary of some of the most intense and at times heart-wrenching teaching that Jesus does with his disciples. This is all leading up to his triumphal entry into Jerusalem in Mark 11. As we saw last week, he predicts his death three times, which caused a great deal of discussion and argument among his disciples. In chapter 10, he’ll deal with divorce and the rich young ruler who walks sadly away from Jesus’s gentle admonishment about the trappings of wealth. He’ll also deal with James and John, who seem to think they won the argument about who’s the greatest and ask to be seated at Jesus’s right hand and left hand in his coming kingdom. And as if to say to his disciples, “Open your eyes, man!” Jesus heals blind Bartimeus as his last miracle before entering Jerusalem.

A lot of heavy stuff to unpack there, right? Our immediate Gospel passage this morning has some obvious parallels to Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount, but it’s not clear here if Mark is summarizing that here to fit his own narrative or if Jesus is repeating his teaching in a different setting. I like to think it’s the latter, because that gives us preachers justification to refresh and rehash previous sermons and deliver them again. If it’s good enough for Jesus, it’s good enough for us!

Let’s take a look, then, at our Gospel passage today, Mark 9:38–50, and in true 1980’s preacher style, I’ll use another triple alliteration to give the higher-level view of the whole passage. First, we’ll look at our prayerful partners in vs. 38–41, then examine the admonition of Jesus to us for our personal propriety in vv. 42–48, and close with a look at our purposeful purification that leads to peace in vv. 49–50.

In vs. 38, the apostle John (most likely the one who’s the son of Zebedee) still seems worried about who gets the “greatest” position as he apparently complains to Jesus that someone who is NOT a disciple is “driving out demons.” Now while we don’t have any specific examples of the disciples driving out demons, we do know from some general statements that Jesus had given that power to the disciples when he sent them out (Matthew 10:1). Then in Mark 6:12, we read that the disciples did in fact do miracles by healing the sick and driving out many demons on their first “2 by 2” mission. Maybe that’s where the competition started.

But Jesus says, “Hold on there, Big John!” “If someone is doing legit miracles in my name, Don’t stop them. If they’re not against us, they’re for us.” Jesus takes this one step further and implies that it’s not the greatness (at least in the world’s eyes) of the deed that counts; it’s the faithfulness and care with which the deed is done. Even if you give a cup of water to a thirsty traveler, Jesus says you don’t have to worry about losing your reward.

The bottom line here is that nothing we do as Jesus followers should stand in the way of others coming to Christ or of our own selves of being faithful. In vs. 42 of the passage today, Jesus warns about causing the little ones to “stumble.” Paul says something similar in Ephesians 6: “Fathers, do not exasperate your children. Instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.” The translation in the bulletin (NRSV) says “sin,” but the word is not the typical word used for sin. In English, we get the word “scandalize” from the Greek word used here [σκανδαλίζομαι (skandalizomai), σκανδαλίζω (skandalizō)[1]]. Its meaning is closer to that of a “stumbling block” or other kind of barrier, especially between someone and God. It’s hard to think about how people might cause little kids to sin, but Jesus must know something that maybe we don’t.

One of the worst and most prominent issues we see with kids today that puts this verse into perspective is trafficking. This past year, a movie called “The Sound of Freedom” hit theaters, which documented the true story of an FBI agent who set up a sting operation south of the border to rescue some 50 children from a child-trafficking ring. We have had thousands upon thousands of unaccompanied minors cross our border in the last few years, and according to a recent Department of Homeland Security report, over 300,000 of them were sent off to “sponsors” with no way for our government to track them, no court date to appear, or to even know if the sponsor is legitimate. As God’s people, this is something that ought to concern us greatly given what Jesus says here. What is happening to these kids?

Children are being politicized by adults who have their own agenda about things we never would have questioned ten years ago. Things that were unthinkable ten years ago. I think Jesus’s words apply to that as well.

You might find it interesting to look up a CNN report on interviewing 10-year-olds in red, purple, and blue States about the presidential candidates. It seems to be a pretty good example of what kids are picking up from their parents and in many cases are parroting to the interviewers. Are we letting kids just be kids anymore? Jesus knew the kids had a simple faith and belief in God without all the trappings that weigh us down as adults. If we’re making them grow up too fast, are we putting a stumbling block in their way so they can’t enjoy their childhood and more kid-friendly activities?

Obviously as parents, grandparents, and great grandparents, we have a passionate interest in protecting the most vulnerable, and I believe that is a passion that God embeds in us. As we get older, I’m sure we begin to recognize some of the long-term effects and consequences (positive and negative) of choices we made when we were younger, and we may want to protect the next generation from the negative and redirect them to the positive. But Jesus warns us to watch out for the things that cause us to stumble or be scandalized as well, and he seems to be focusing on some of our key body parts here. This is where the “lusting, lopping, and living” comes in.

Now I think we all can agree that Jesus really doesn’t want us chopping body parts off every time we stumble (and this is why it’s important to make the distinction about the word used here). The main principle here is that we not put ourselves in situations where we have potentially unchecked temptations. Former VP Mike Pence received some criticism when he said he didn’t want to be alone in a room or at a dinner alone with a woman who wasn’t his wife. This was to keep himself above suspicion; pastors have this principle impressed upon them in seminary and often by their elders or church boards.

The point of these “lopping” verses is that we set boundaries for ourselves when it comes to our lives. If you have trouble with alcohol, stay away from the bars and keep it out of your house. If your mouth gets you in trouble too much, learn how to control your tongue as James says. If you’re watching stuff you shouldn’t be watching, then turn off the TV or the computer. Or you can do like John Denver says, “Blow up your TV.” (No, don’t really do that. John was just being silly in that song.)

It’s not that doing the things Jesus warns about here will, by themselves, keep us out of heaven. There is still forgiveness. But if you persist in a life of unfaithfulness, then you might have something to worry about in eternity. God never casts those from his presence when they come to him, but if they don’t want to have anything to do with God, will God grant their wish and turn them away? We should heed the warnings of such passages as the Sheep and the Goats before the throne in the last chapters of Matthew’s gospel. We should pay close attention to Paul’s warning that our works would be tested with fire—what’s good survives like gold, silver, and precious gems; what’s bad is burned up like wood, hay, and stubble. And we should work toward maturity as the author of Hebrews says in chapters 5 & 6 so we don’t find ourselves in danger of “falling away.”

This is where the last part of our passage this morning comes into play, with a rather unusual verse: “Everyone will be salted with fire.” What exactly does that mean?

One might be tempted to think it has something to do with the mention of hell in the previous verse, but I think this has a more positive implication for us. In the Old Testament sacrificial system, the Lord commanded that all offerings should be sprinkled with salt (Leviticus 2:13). We know salt brings out the flavor in food, but it also acts as a preserving agent. When Jesus says this, I believe he’s referring to verses like, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” God imparts “flavor” to our own lives so we know the blessings of serving him. And if we’re salted with fire, I think that means he’s purifying us from our own sins and shortcomings so that our lives are a sweet aroma to him.

Not only that, but we also share our “flavorful” life with those around us. We can be salt to others, especially so that we can be at peace with one another.

When Jill and I were in Florida in April, I bought a T-shirt that says “Stay Salty.” I think mainly it referred to being a beach bum: surfing, sunning, and swimming in the ocean. But it occurs to me that I can apply a whole new meaning to that shirt: that I can “stay salty” for Jesus. How about you? Do you want to be salty for our savior?

May the peace of God be with your all, amen.

Kids and politics: What 10-year-olds told a child development expert about Trump, Harris and the 2024 election | CNN Politics


[1] Swanson, James. 1997. In Dictionary of Biblical Languages with Semantic Domains: Greek (New Testament), electronic ed. Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, Inc.

September 23, 2024

Losing the “Greatest” Argument (Mark 9:30–37; James 4)

Preached Sunday, September 22, 2024, at Mount View Presbyterian Church.

We know Jesus. Amen

We know Jesus wept.

We know Jesus prayed.

We know Jesus healed.

We know Jesus preached the Word of God.

We know Jesus fed 5,000 men and their families.

We know Jesus walked on stormy waters later that evening

We know Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.

We know Jesus…caused arguments.

Bet you didn’t see that one coming. At least eight times in Mark 8 and 9, we see some kind of confrontation between people about who Jesus is, and sometimes they say it to his face! Now that takes some real chutzpah to argue with the Savior of the world. Our gospel passage comes at the end of a couple chapters in Mark where arguing plays a prominent role.

Now “arguing” may be too strong a term where the Greek words that translate to it occur. In some cases, the words might be translated “discussing vigorously,” “debating,” or simply “talking.” One of the words implies seeking knowledge together. Another term found a few times in these two chapters is “rebuke,” which suggests a different kind of confrontational discussion. But Jesus seems to be a First Amendment kind of guy: he doesn’t try to shut down their discussion. He’s actually curious about the discussions going on around him.

In 8:17, Jesus asks his disciples why they are arguing about not having bread after just having fed 4,000 people in the previous chapters. They must have given all that extra bread from the feeding to those who were fed. If I’d just fed thousands of people, I think I’d know why I didn’t have any bread! But as usual, the disciples just hadn’t put two and two together yet and missed the big picture of Jesus being the bread of life.

A little later in chapter 8, Peter tries to argue with Jesus (the NIV says he “began to rebuke [Jesus]”) for saying he’d be killed and rise again in three days. Jesus would go on from there and talk about how each one of us must take up our cross and follow him. Not exactly all sunshine and roses. But the reward is priceless.

After the Transfiguration, Jesus continues to speak about his death and resurrection, and of course, the disciples continue to discuss and maybe even argue about what all that means. Then Jesus comes across a group of people arguing about how to help a man’s possessed son. Jesus casts out the demon, and they continue on to Capernaum. Again, Jesus asks them what they were arguing about but they don’t want to fess up. They weren’t arguing about Jesus rising from the dead anymore. Evidently such a feat didn’t seem to suggest any greatness about Jesus in their minds because they were arguing among themselves about which one of them was greatest.

Talk about being clueless! Having that kind of argument given what they’d heard from Jesus recently is like someone telling Abraham Lincoln they brought about the end of slavery because they moved north of the Mason-Dixon line.

So how did Jesus solve the problem? How did he put an end to the silly argument about who was the greatest when Jesus himself was the GOAT? No, he didn’t bring his mother in to set them straight. He put a little child on his knee and said, in so many words, when you welcome the defenseless, the small and seemingly insignificant, the ones who have no power or influence—in other words, “the least”—you welcome Christ and his heavenly father into your life.

James talks about fights and quarrels in chapter 4. Let’s listen to what he says:

What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you? You desire but do not have, so you kill. You covet but you cannot get what you want, so you quarrel and fight. You do not have because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures.

You adulterous people, don’t you know that friendship with the world means enmity against God? Therefore, anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God. Or do you think Scripture says without reason that he jealously longs for the spirit he has caused to dwell in us? But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says:

“God opposes the proud

but shows favor to the humble.”[1]

While the disciples’ arguments about rising from the dead were more about “how can this be” and thus more noble and inquisitive discussions, their arguments about who was the greatest are borne out of selfishness, as James alludes to here. I think the key word in the James passage is “covet.” “Thou shalt not covet” seems like an unusual command, because all of the other commands have some tangible object or involve an intentional act against someone. But coveting at first glance almost sounds like a thought crime. The truth is, though, that coveting involves much more than just desiring something.

Coveting involves desiring something that isn’t legally yours or that you can’t legally (or morally) have (taboo) and plotting how you might obtain such a thing or person, often by illicit, litigious, or questionable means. Sometimes those means can be obvious: “I’m going to find a wet spot in the grocery store where I can slip and fall and sue the store.” “I’m going to slam on the brakes so the car behind me rear-ends me and I can get a new car.” “I’m going to buy a hot coffee at McDonald’s and put it between my legs so it burns me.”

Other ways are more subtle. Someone might linger longer talking to the neighbor’s opposite-sex spouse. Or you might borrow something from your neighbor and “conveniently” forget to return it. You can see how James’s words here play out in our modern lives. We get stuck in the rut of thinking first about ourselves—what we want, what we think about someone, what we think things should be like.

Now let’s return to our Gospel text for a minute: We looked at two things they were arguing about in Mark 8–9: Jesus rising from the dead and who was the greatest. But do you notice what other dynamic is playing out here? It may be so obvious as to escape notice. As they’re arguing amongst themselves about what Jesus meant when he said he would rise from the dead, who’s there with them? Jesus! Peter doesn’t bother to ask Jesus what he meant by that; he, and most likely the other disciples, had apparently already come to the conclusion that Jesus was not going to die, at least not any time soon. What is Jesus’s response in Mark 8:33–34? “But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter. ‘Get behind me, Satan!’ he said. ‘You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.’”[2] Why did Jesus look at the disciples first and then rebuke Peter? My guess is the disciples had probably put him up to say something to Jesus.

Maybe that was enough to scare the disciples into continuing to talk about Jesus rising from the dead amongst themselves a little later in chapter 9. Again, Jesus is with them, but for whatever reason, they can’t bring themselves to ask Jesus what he meant‽ Isn’t this exactly what James said? “You do not have because you do not ask God.” When you think about it, it’s kind of bewildering that they wouldn’t ask the guy who said that when they’ve been hanging out with him for months.

That’s what makes the argument about “Who’s the greatest?” so odd in our gospel passage today. They get busted by Jesus twice, probably in the space of a few days to a week, for not thinking through the implications of Jesus dying and rising again, so instead of saying, “If Jesus can do that, he must be greatest,” they argue about who amongst themselves is the greatest, as if any of them could lay claim to foreknowledge of their own death and resurrection!

Jesus settles the argument using the example of little child in the crowd. “God opposes the proud, but shows favor to the humble,” as James quoted from Proverbs 3:34: “He mocks proud mockers but shows favor to the humble and oppressed.”[3]

In our deeply divided culture today, it seems like more and more we see arguments on any number of cultural, religious, and social hot-button issues. In some cases, we even see people being shamed, cancelled, or ostracized for believing or not believing a certain way. But this was not Jesus’s way when people did not believe him or fell short in some way. When Jesus told the rich young ruler he’d have to sell everything and follow him, the ruler walked away sad, but Jesus never followed that up with any condemnation for that person individually. When Jesus looked at Peter at the moment Peter denied knowing him for the third time the night before the crucifixion, Jesus didn’t shout across the courtyard “You’re fired!” He never gave any hint of starting a revolt against Roman rule, even though that’s what most Jews were expecting. Jesus saved his harshest words for the religious leaders who were abusing their power and misleading the people.

What can we take away from this today? The Bible does not leave us without solutions. James 4:7–10 gives us a good start:

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.[4]

In a nutshell, focus on God, resist the devil, and humble ourselves. Some scholars have called James the “Proverbs” of the New Testament. If you read the whole chapter of Proverbs 3, you’ll see that James’s words here are a summary of the wisdom in that chapter. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart” (vs. 5). “Don’t let wisdom and understanding out of your sight; preserve sound judgment and discretion” (vs. 21). “Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due when it is in your power to act” (vs. 27).

Our reading from Psalm 1 today ties in as well: “Blessed is the one…whose delight is in the law of the Lord….That person is like a tree planted by streams of water.”

The bottom line is, the most important thing we can do for our spiritual maturity and sanity is keep our eyes on Jesus. I say that to myself as much as I’m saying it to you. In my day job, I have the “privilege,” if you want to call it that, of reading and reviewing all the government rules and laws that come out regarding healthcare, so I’ve come to have a pretty strong opinion of some of those policies, and I do actually enjoy that at times. But all of that pales in comparison when I hold it up to the greatness of God and the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ. Politics and government won’t save anybody in the end. The uncertainty of what’s to come in the next few months is mitigated by Psalm 2 and the fact that we have an eternal home waiting for us, and I want keep my eyes on that prize above all else.

Peace to you all as we dive into autumn! Amen.


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

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

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

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

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.

June 30, 2024

Touch of the Master (Mark 5:21–43)

Click

I think we can all agree that there is great benefit to power of human touch, from the time we’re in our mother’s womb to the day of our death. Scientists know, for example, that a newborn benefits almost immediately from touch. A Psychology Today article summarized one study this way: “Skin-to-skin contact in even in the first hour after birth has been shown to help regulate newborns’ temperature, heart rate, and breathing, and decreases crying” (Ferber, Feldman, & Makhoul, 2008). Another study of Romanian orphans in an understaffed orphanage found that the children that experienced less touch had trouble with physical growth and development. Even having a pet can play a significant role in our need for touch.

A quick search in an artificial intelligence search engine created the following list of benefits from physical contact:

Human touch has the power to12345:

  • Signal safety and trust, and it can be soothing.
  • Calm cardiovascular stress.
  • Activate the body’s vagus nerve, which is intimately involved with our compassionate response.
  • Trigger release of intimacy hormones.
  • Support physical, emotional, and mental health.
  • Increase happiness and longevity.
  • Nurture relationships and overall well-being.
  • Lower blood pressure as well as cortisol, our stress hormone.

From a simple handshake to the more involved “secret society” handshakes, from a fist bump to a pat on the back, from the encouraging side-hug to a full-on hug, from a simple kiss to, well, you know, and even the gentle rough-housing we do with our kids when they’re younger, human touch has the power to affirm, assure, comfort, encourage, empower, gladden, guide, and strengthen us throughout our lives.

When we look at the idea of “touch” in Scripture, we get two very different pictures of the word in the Old and New Testaments. In the OT, more than half the uses of the main word used for “touch” are found in Leviticus and Numbers and are used in the negative, that is, God or the writer prohibits people from touching something that will make them unclean or that is unholy, primarily a dead animal or person. We do have a few positive examples of “touch” in the OT, so I want to highlight those briefly, because they will tie into our main gospel passage this morning.

Here’s an interesting example from 2 Kings 13:21: “Once while some Israelites were burying a man, suddenly they saw a band of raiders; so they threw the man’s body into Elisha’s tomb. When the body touched Elisha’s bones, the man came to life and stood up on his feet.”[1] Even touching the bones of a dead holy man was enough to bring someone back to life! It makes you wonder what those who had to carry Jesus’s body from the cross to the tomb must have felt touching his body. Things that make you go “Hmmmm.”

Isaiah is “commissioned” to be a prophet in chapter 6 verse 7 of his book by an angel touching his lips with a burning coal, saying, “See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for.”

Jeremiah (1:9) didn’t need a burning coal, evidently, as he says, “Then the Lord reached out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me, ‘Now, I have put my words in your mouth.’”

Daniel describes three different “touches” he received during one of his visions (vv. 10, 16, 18)

“A hand touched me and set me trembling on my hands and knees.”

“Then one who looked like a man touched my lips, and I opened my mouth and began to speak.”

“Again the one who looked like a man touched me and gave me strength.”

Daniel experiences the whole range of human emotions in a few short verses all because of the touch of a powerful angel or likely the preincarnate Christ himself.

Our psalm reading this morning, Psalm 130, doesn’t use the word “touch,” but you can hear the longing to have the Lord draw near to them, as is evident by the psalmist alternating between the personal name of the Lord (Yahweh) and the kingly title “Lord” (Adonai). They want the Lord “near” them so they know he hears them; they want the touch of forgiveness that Isaiah received; their whole being desperately waits for him to appear and confirm their hope in him.

Now the New Testament has quite a different focus for the word “touch.” In the Gospels you can count on one hand the number of times the word touch is NOT used to refer to a healing or to someone being raised from the dead. The prominent use of the word is in the gospels in the context of Jesus healing someone or raising them from the dead. It’s not just a spiritual reality of forgiveness or being gifted the ability to speak God’s word. It is an actual, physical reality that people were healed of diseases and brought back to life by the touch of Jesus’s hand or by someone reaching out to touch him.

This brings us to our gospel passage today. This is the dramatic climax of the first section of the gospel of Mark, where we have one story of an imminent resurrection interrupted by another story of a woman who’s been sick for 12 years. Up to this point in Mark’s gospel, we’ve read about several miracles Jesus has already done. Right after this story is when Jesus returns to his hometown and commissions the Twelve to go out and minister with their own power of a healing touch, especially through anointing with oil.

We pick up the story as Jesus is returning from the other side of the lake where he had just released a man who had been possessed by a legion of demons by casting those demons into a herd of pigs. In most cases, that might be a tough miracle to top, but this is Jesus we’re talking about.

Jesus is immediately met by a large crowd, including a synagogue ruler named Jairus. A synagogue ruler was basically an assistant to the rabbi and handled the administrative tasks of running the synagogue and organizing worship and community activities. He would have been quite well-known in the community and generally respected as much as the rabbi himself. Jesus himself may have even interacted with him a few times leading up to this point, which may be why Jesus didn’t hesitate to go with him immediately when Jairus asked him to heal his daughter.

It would not have taken long for the awareness of Jairus’s request and Jesus’s response to spread through the large crowd, and it would seem they all started getting excited about the possibility of another miracle. As such, they began following Jesus to Jairus’s home.

Meanwhile, the woman who had been sick for 12 years finds herself at the right place and the right time to assimilate into the crowd and try to get her hands on Jesus’s robe, because she thought (or knew?) that if she could just touch his cloak, she would be healed. I don’t think she really expected to be able to even talk to Jesus in her condition. She was probably embarrassed and perhaps may have been unclean because of her bleeding, so a large crowd was the perfect place for her to be anonymous.

But God had other plans for this woman. Even with the crowd clamoring around Jesus and the disciples trying to clear the road ahead of him to get to Jairus’s house, Jesus still realized that something unusual had happened to him in the crowd. He felt the healing power of God go out from him, and immediately he stopped. He turned and asked the crazy question, “Who touched me?” even with hundreds of people around him! The woman realized she couldn’t hide any more, and humbly, meekly stepped forward to “confess” what she had done and the result. Jesus declared her healed because of her faith, and by default her willingness to act on her faith and sent her on her way in peace.

Keep in mind that Jairus is with Jesus this whole time, probably worried about this delay and how it might affect his daughter. And sure enough, his worst fears come true. As Jesus is finishing up speaking to the woman, people from Jairus’s household come and tell him his daughter is dead. “Why bother the teacher anymore?” they say.

But Jesus turns to Jairus and reassures him: “Don’t be afraid; just believe.” Needing to break away from the crowd, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John with him to Jairus’s house while leaving the other disciples to handle crowd control. The mourners had already begun their wailing, and they laugh at Jesus when he says the child is not dead but only asleep.

The small group of those who believed what Jesus could and was about to do remained with Jesus and went into the house. I imagine you could have cut the anticipation with a knife. It’s hard to imagine what was going through the minds of the three disciples and the girl’s parents: Is he really doing this? Are they praying? Stunned? How would you have felt if you were there witnessing this?

I’m sure Jesus himself whispered a prayer to his heavenly father when he stretched out his hand to take hers and simply said, “Talitha Koum”; “Little girl, get up!” No fancy prayer. No $20 religious words or flowery mushy language. Just, “Get up!” And she did! I can’t even imagine how I might have felt witnessing something like this. The disciples had seen a lot of miracles to this point, but this one really had to take the cake. Yet in hindsight, we know that this was only halfway through his story. Not only was this done for the benefit of the girl and her family, but this was also the final teaching moment for Jesus’s disciples before he sent them out on their own. They needed solid evidence of Jesus’s power, and they got it in that moment.

The power of the touch of the master is truly an amazing thing in Scripture specifically and in our lives generally. I have to admit that in all my years of preaching, I’ve never looked into this topic in this kind of depth, and I was encouraged and motivated to present this message to you. I know there have been several times in my own life I’ve clearly heard the call of God, felt his hand of comfort on me, and have seen his heavenly servants at work.

Around the time I graduated from high school, Wayne Watson released a song called “The Touch of the Master’s Hand.” It was the adaptation of 1921 poem by Myra Brooks Welch. The song instantly became a favorite of mine. I want to close out with the second verse and chorus of this song this morning. In the first verse, the auctioneer is trying to sell an old, dusty violin and starts the bidding process on the violin, the last item on the block, with a one-dollar bid request. The second verse goes like this:

Well the air was hot and the people stood around

As the sun was setting low,

From the back of the crowd a gray-haired man,

Came forward and picked up the bow,

He wiped the dust from the old violin

Then he tightened up the strings,

Then he played out a melody pure and sweet, sweet as the angels sing,

And then the music stopped and the auctioneer,

With a voice that was quiet and low,

Said what is the bid for this old violin

And he held it up with the bow.

And then he cried out “One give me one thousand,

Who’ll make it two? Only two thousand; who’ll make it three?

Three thousand twice, now that’s a good price,

So who’s gotta bid for me?”

The people called out, “What made the change? We don’t understand.”

Then the auctioneer stopped and he said with a smile,

“It was the touch of the Master’s hand.”

May you be touched by the Master’s hand as you go from here this morning. Amen.


[1] 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.

February 29, 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

Scott Stocking

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

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