Sunday Morning Greek Blog

March 4, 2023

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

Background

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

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

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

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

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

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

Advent: Preparing for the Coming Messiah

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

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

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

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

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

Epiphany

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

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

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

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

Lent

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

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

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

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

The things that move us away from The Light.

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

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

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

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

5 Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,

only a day for people to humble themselves?

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

and for lying in sackcloth and ashes?

Is that what you call a fast,

a day acceptable to the Lord?[4]

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

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

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

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

And so on and so on and so on.

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

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

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

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,

because the Lord has anointed me

to proclaim good news to the poor.

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives

and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor

and the day of vengeance of our God,

to comfort all who mourn,

3           and provide for those who grieve in Zion—

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

the oil of joy instead of mourning,

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

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

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

Conclusion (for now)

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

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

My opinions are my own.

Scott Stocking


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

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

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

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

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

August 7, 2022

Saved by the Bris: Colossians 2 and the “Circumcision of Christ”

Listen to “Saved by the Bris”

Sermon preached at Mt. View Presbyterian Church, July 24, 2022. Lightly edited for publication.

I want to pose a question to you as I begin this morning, and I promise I will help you realize the answer by the time I’m done about 25 minutes from now. Here’s the question: What is “the circumcision of Christ”? The follow-up question to that is: “How does it save us?” Intrigued? Good. Let’s dive into Colossians chapter 2.

Colossae was a diminishing river town along a major trade route in what is now southern Turkey between Ephesus on the west coast and the Euphrates River in the east. Its close neighbors, Laodicea and Hierapolis had long before New Testament times overtaken it in prominence and prosperity. But that didn’t stop Epaphras, a convert from Paul’s two-and-a-half-year ministry in Ephesus, from founding a successful congregation there in the mid first century.

At some point early in the life of that congregation, they came under the attack or influence of some heretical teaching. It’s not really clear what exactly the nature of that teaching was, but we can glean some ideas based on the themes Paul addresses in the letter. Most likely, the primary challenge to the Christian faith that was emerging at that time, Gnosticism, was that threat. Gnosticism says that anything done in the flesh is evil, therefore, nothing we do really matters for eternity. What was important in Gnosticism was that you know and believe the right things, things about God and the order of the universe and spiritual powers at work in the universe.

This is why Paul spends a significant part of the first chapter writing about who Christ is and revealing some very important truths about Christ that we don’t get anywhere else. Listen to his words about Christ in chapter 1:

15 The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. 16 For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. 17 He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18 And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. 19 For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, 20 and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.

21 Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. 22 But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation[1]

Note what he says here: Jesus is the firstborn of all creation. God didn’t have a wife in heaven, of course, so “firstborn” doesn’t mean a literal birth, but that he is the primary and ultimate expression of every God-created element, every being, every creature born at any other time in the world. We know from John 1 that he was with God in the beginning when he began creating the world. In Genesis 1, we hear the refrain over and over again: “And God saw that it was good.”

But the ultimate knock to the Gnostic heresy is Colossians 1:19: “God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him.” That must have blown the Gnostics minds! In their thinking, there’s no way a holy God would have or could have put all his fullness into a physical form they believed to be thoroughly evil. And not only that, Paul emphasizes in vs. 22 that it is through Christ’s physical body, through his death on the cross, that we are reconciled to God. I can imagine the Gnostics were running away with their fingers in their ears screaming “la la la la la la, I can’t hear you!”

Paul goes on to exhort the Colossians to stand firm in the face of this heresy and in fact commends them for doing just that. And he also makes the argument against the Gnostic heresy personal by saying that his own physical suffering for the church is working to spread the gospel and encourage his readers all the more toward undying faithfulness.

And so we come to our passage this morning: Colossians 2:6–15. Let’s look first at vv. 6–8 and see how Paul makes the transition here to the heart of the passage that begins in vs. 9.

6 So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, 7 rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.

8 See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ. [2]

Paul recognizes that the Colossians are living faithfully and holding fast to the Gospel message that Epaphras had brought to them in the beginning. It’s good to know that not every church he wrote to had problems from within, as he must address in other letters. The Colossians are exemplary in that regard, but they are still dogged by the outside influence of some Gnostics.

So Paul again addresses the Gnostic heresy here with his warning about “hollow and deceptive philosophy” and the “elemental spiritual forces of this world,” which are probably nothing more than angels, demons, and perhaps some low-level spiritual powers and authorities. The Jews of Paul’s day had access to a great deal of apocryphal, pseudobiblical literature and oral traditions that told tales of angels, demons, and other spiritual forces. Some of these had the names of patriarchs and prophets attached to them, which may have given them a false veneer of credibility. But Paul is reaffirming that everything we need to know about our salvation and about how God interacts with his creation comes from Jesus himself. Let’s look at vv. 9–15 from the English Standard Version, mostly. In verses 11–13, I’m going to give my own translation, partially because most English translations either read too much into what Paul is saying or they don’t respect the strong verbal parallels with similar passages in Ephesians.

A  For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him,

B   who is the head of all rule and authority.

C    In whom you were also circumcised with a hands-free circumcision by the putting off (τῇ ἀπεκδύσει, see vs. 15) of the body of flesh, that is, by the “circumcision” of Christ.

D     You were buried AND raised with him in baptism

E      through the faithful work of God

D’     who raised Christ from the dead. Even though you were dead in your sins

C’   and the uncircumcision of your flesh,

D”    God made you alive with Christ, forgiving all your sins.

C”    by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross.

B ‘  He disarmed (disrobed? ἀπεκδυσάμενος) the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame,

A’  by triumphing over them in him.[3]

Before we put meat on the bones here, I’d like you to take a look at how the passage is formatted above. You can see how it has successive indents as you read through the passage, and then the indents start to move leftward in the last half of the passage. The bold statement in the center (line E) that has the greatest indent is the key point in the passage: God raises us up and makes us alive in him because of his faithfulness to us. God’s faithfulness is what gives the Colossians the courage to stand up to the Gnosticism they encountered and to stand firm in their faith in spite of sometimes intense opposition. And God is still faithful today, so that you and I can have that same confidence in him to stand firm and carry on with our respective ministries and mission.

You will notice that I’ve italicized some words as well. In addition to similar index indents, those italicized words help you see the verbal parallels between the different parts of the passage. So, for example, in lines B & B’ of the passage, you’ll see the words “rule and authority” highlighted.

If you remember at the beginning, I asked you to dwell on the question, “What is the circumcision of Christ”? It is in the structure of this passage as I’ve laid it out here that we get that answer. Look at verse 11 (line C). Notice that a form of the word “circumcise” is used three times here. Then look down to line C’ (v. 13b): there’s the word “uncircumcision.” At that point, the outline “backtracks” a couple levels to previous verbal connections. Line C” (vs. 14), then, is at the same outline level as the circumcision phrases. But instead of using “circumcision” here, he makes a statement about the crucifixion: “This he removed from our midst, nailing it to the cross.” So here’s the answer to the question: “The circumcision of Christ” is in fact the crucifixion! The crucifixion is, if you’ll allow me this, the circumcision to end all circumcisions. Here’s the logic behind this.

Paul’s use of the phrase “removed from our midst” sounds very much like the statement in vs. 11 about the “putting off” of the body of flesh. And given that Colossians and Ephesians have dozens of verbal parallels, this sounds a lot like Paul’s discussion of this topic in Ephesians 4:22–24:

22 You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off (ἀποθέσθαι) your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; 23 to be made new in the attitude of your minds; 24 and to put on (ἐνδύσασθαι) the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.[4]

The word for “putting on” the new self is the exact opposite of the word for “putting off” the body of flesh in Colossians. In Ephesians 2:3, Paul speaks of us “gratifying the cravings of our flesh,” from which God saved us. He says a little later in 2:15 something very similar to our Colossians passage about “waging war in his flesh against the commandments and regulations” and making peace with the new creation we are in Christ. The original act of circumcision was intended to set Israelite males apart from all others. It was a sign of the original covenant, but it had no power to save. The crucifixion, however, when we believe in its efficacy, not only sets us apart, but prepares our “new creation” bodies by putting off the whole old person and putting on the new to receive the fullness of Christ through the Holy Spirit.

This is what baptism (practiced as immersion in the early church) represents as well: connecting with the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ and recognizing the connection with the body of Christ and newness of life we have in him. And all this is possible because, as the central verse of our passage says, God is faithful to work in and through us for the glory of his kingdom.

So, now that we have the theology out of the way, what does that mean for how we live our “new creation” lives in the kingdom of God? Well, Colossians isn’t just about theology. Here are just a few of the exhortations from Paul for us from chapters 1 & 2:

1:23: “Continue in your faith, established and firm, and do not move from the hope of the Gospel.”

1:28: “So that we may present everyone fully mature in Christ.”

2:2: “That they may be encouraged in heart and united in love.”

2:4: “That no one may deceive you by fine-sounding arguments.”

2:6–7: “Continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith…overflowing with thankfulness.”

2:8: “See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ.”

2:20: “Since you died with Christ to the elemental spiritual forces of this world, why, as though you still belonged to the world, do you submit to its rules?”

2:16: “Don’t let anyone judge you.” (repeat)

Here’s the bottom line: Colossians says that in Christ, you have been brought to fullness. What that means here is that you have everything you need in Christ to carry out the ministries and missions he’s called you to, individually or collectively. Your faith in Christ is your own. You’re the only one who will answer to God for it before the throne. Your faith doesn’t belong to a family member. It doesn’t belong to a friend. It doesn’t belong to a pastor. It doesn’t belong to a congregation, although we hope you’ll share your faith with your congregation, friends, and family. And dare I say it doesn’t belong to any earthly institution or establishment of religion. The Holy Spirit alone determines how his gifts are distributed, and he does so without regard to where you find yourself in any local congregation or church body.

And speaking of gifts of the Spirit, your calling in Christ is your own, except to the extent that that calling leads you to find common cause with others in the local congregation or the broader body of Christ. We are saved as a part of the body of Christ, not apart from the body of Christ. As Paul said in 2:16, “Don’t let anyone judge you” for how you choose to live out your calling. Romans says his gifts and calling are without repentance. God knew what he was doing when he called you to your ministry or mission, and no one should have the power to take that away from you.

And if you want to explore Colossians further, try reading it alongside Ephesians some time. I said at the top of my message that the congregation at Colossae probably started while Paul was preaching in Ephesus. It’s no accident that many of the themes in Ephesians have found their way into Colossians, but in a different order. Ephesians has a very sophisticated organization, while Colossians is, to be kind, a rearranged and shortened version of Ephesians for a different audience and purpose. I guarantee such a study would be very fruitful.

20 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.[5]


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

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

[3] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. 2016. Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles. Verses 11–13 are my own translation.

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

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

May 15, 2022

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

Author’s Note: I preached this sermon on Mother’s Day (05/08/22) at Mt. View Presbyterian Church. The text is lightly edited for publication. For a related post, see “I Am the Door of the Sheep”; “I Am the Good Shepherd” (John 10:7, 11).

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

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

Jesus in His Father’s House

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus: The Gate and the Good Shepherd

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John 10:22–30

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

Recognizing the Shepherd’s Voice

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

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

Assurance of Eternal Life

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

Paul reaffirms this in Romans 8:38–39:

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

Romans 8:38–39

Conclusion

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

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


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

April 10, 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      8 “Judah, your brothers will praise you;

         your hand will be on the neck of your enemies;

         your father’s sons will bow down to you.

      9 You are a lion’s cub, Judah;

         you return from the prey, my son.

         Like a lion he crouches and lies down,

         like a lioness—who dares to rouse him?

      10 The scepter will not depart from Judah,

         nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet,

         until he to whom it belongs shall come

         and the obedience of the nations shall be his.

      11 He will tether his donkey to a vine,

         his colt to the choicest branch;

         he will wash his garments in wine,

         his robes in the blood of grapes.

      12 His eyes will be darker than wine,

         his teeth whiter than milk.

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

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

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

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

      9 Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!

         Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!

         See, your king comes to you,

         righteous and victorious,

         lowly and riding on a donkey,

         on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

      10 I will take away the chariots from Ephraim

         and the warhorses from Jerusalem,

         and the battle bow will be broken.

         He will proclaim peace to the nations.

         His rule will extend from sea to sea

         and from the River to the ends of the earth.

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

         I will free your prisoners from the waterless pit.

      12 Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope;

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

      13 I will bend Judah as I bend my bow

         and fill it with Ephraim.

         I will rouse your sons, Zion,

         against your sons, Greece,

         and make you like a warrior’s sword.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

February 19, 2022

From Wine to the Vine

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

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

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

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

Read John 2:1–10

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

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

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

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

14 He makes grass grow for the cattle,

and plants for people to cultivate—

bringing forth food from the earth:

15 wine that gladdens human hearts,

oil to make their faces shine,

and bread that sustains their hearts.[1]

Psalm 104:14–15

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

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

Ecclesiastes 9:7 

And again,

A feast is made for laughter,

wine makes life merry,

and money is the answer for everything. [3]

Ecclesiastes 10:19 

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

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

Plato, Laws, 665–666, emphasis mine

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

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

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

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

Read John 15:1–10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

November 1, 2011

“Father, Forgive Them…” (Luke 23:34)

A friend of mine asked me the following question on Facebook and gave me permission to post the question and my response (edited a bit) here.

Here’s a question for you, Scott. Was just reading Luke 23:34 where Jesus says, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.” Really? They didn’t know what they were doing? Then can’t we all be absolved on the same basis, that we don’t know what we are doing? Also, didn’t they know in some sense what they were doing? Didn’t they at least know they were murdering an innocent man? They knew they were having to “plot” against him . . . Just wondered.

Some observations:

  1. You are not alone in questioning this statement. It is in double brackets in the Greek text, which means it is of questionable authenticity but was retained given its prominent place in church history and liturgy. (In the UBS 3rd edition of the Greek New Testament, the statement has a C rating on a scale of A to D, with A representing the highest certainty that the original text is restored.) I could not find the statement in any of the other Gospels, so it appears to be unique to Luke.
  2. Who are the “them” he forgives? The immediate context seems to suggest they’re the soldiers, who were only following orders and didn’t have a clue about Jesus being the Son of God and Savior.
  3. John 11:49–52 seems to imply that the leaders really didn’t understand the full implication of what they were doing. Yes, they knew they were plotting, but John’s statement about Caiaphas’s unwitting prophecy seems to imply the Jewish leaders were more or less in the dark about who Jesus really was and is.
  4. We can offer forgiveness to anyone regardless of intent, motivation, etc. Jesus is not declaring that they are forgiven, but rather asking the Father to forgive them. “Ignorant” people sin all the time: ignorance is no excuse for sin (or civic lawbreaking for that matter), but it is not unforgivable. Great question!

[For those of you wondering when something from Thessalonians or Timothy is coming along, please be patient. I’m working on an update of my treatment of women in leadership from 1 Timothy 3 and surrounding contexts. It’s taken on a life of its own, it seems, and I keep learning new truths about the passage.]

Peace!

Scott Stocking

August 7, 2011

“I Am the True Vine” (John 15:1)

See my new post, From Wine to the Vine, a recent sermon on this topic, published 2/19/22.

Wow! What an incredible, tiring July I had. My kids were with me for the first two weeks, and we had a great time together. Alec got to drive in the big city and learned what hills can do to the speed of a car. I took three days off from work, and we went to Sempeck’s and Papio Fun Center for laser tag, go carts, bowling, mini golf, and other frivolities. I’m glad they were here, and I miss them sorely now.

There was a price to pay, however (besides the cost of making two round trips to Illinois): I spent the last three weeks playing catch up on my secondary work, and for several consecutive days, I was going on minimal sleep. My Greek Bible reading had to be put on hold, but I certainly got my fill of Bible! I did a cold proofread on a Jewish commentary on the Torah and got to proofread Ezra–Psalms in a King James Version. I guess God wanted to remind there’s still an Old Testament to be reckoned with. The Jewish commentaries are always engaging, because they’re not afraid to tackle anyone who comments on the Torah; from Maimonides (Rambam) to Freud, the authors covered the gamut! I finished off my three-week marathon by editing a devotional guidebook for Christians. It was quite the adventure, to say the least.

Through the sleepless nights and drowsy days, however, I needed an extraordinary strength and endurance that could only come from a connection to the one who said, “I am the True Vine” (Ἐγώ εἰμι ἡ ἄμπελος ἡ ἀληθινή egō eimi hē ampelos hē alēthinē), Jesus Christ (how’s that for a segue!). And thus I come to the final chapter, belatedly so, of my discussion of the seven “I Am” statements of Jesus. To recap, here is the table showing the comparisons I have made along the way: (2/13/2012: You can click the “I Am” statement to open the blog post for that statement.)

Table 1: Linking the “I Am” Statements with Jesus’ Miracles

“I Am” Statement

Sign/Miracle

John 6:35: I Am the Bread of Life John 6:1–15: Jesus Feeds the 5000+
John 8:12: I Am the Light of the World John 9:1–12: Jesus Heals a Man Born Blind
John 10:7: I Am the Door of the Sheep John 5:1–15: Healing of the Invalid at Bethesda [Sheep Gate]
John 10:11: I Am the Good Shepherd John 6:16–24: Jesus Walks on Water
John 11:25: I Am the Resurrection and the Life John 11:38–44: Jesus Raises Lazarus from the Dead
John 14:6: I Am the Way, the Truth, and the Life John 4:43–54: Healing of the Official’s Son
John 15:1: I Am the True Vine John 2:1–11: Water into Wine

The connections between the last “I am” statement of Jesus and his first “sign” in John’s Gospel are striking. The most obvious connection that can be made is the thematic parallel of wine/vine. Although the respective words (οἶνος oinos ‘wine’; ἄμπελος ‘vine’) are not found in the opposite passage, there is no mistaking that the vine produces the fruit that would eventually become wine. Ἄμπελος is found nine times in the NT: three times in John 15:1–9; once each in the other three Gospels, all in the same statement of Jesus at the Last Supper, “I will not drink of the fruit of the vine…”; once in James 3:12; and twice in Revelation 14:18–19, where the earth is compared to a vine about to be harvested in God’s wrath.

One verbal parallel is of note in the passages: the word for “clean” and its related word “cleansing” appear in both passages. What makes this significant, in my mind anyway, is that Jesus, seemingly out of the blue in the midst of talking about vines and pruning, makes the statement in John 15:3, “You are
already clean because of the word I have spoken to you” (ἤδη ὑμεῖς καθαροί ἐστε ēdē hymeis katharoi este). The statement does not seem to fit the context very well, unless you make the connection to the water-into-wine pericope. In John 2:6, we learn that the vessels that contained the water turned to wine were those used for “ceremonial purification” (καθαρισμός katharismos) by the Jews. So, as early as John 2, wine is connected with cleansing. Is this a mere coincidence of circumstances? In Matthew 26:28 at the Last Supper, Jesus says that the cup is his blood-covenant for forgiving their sins. The very next verse is where Jesus says he will not drink of the fruit of the vine until he’s in the Father’s kingdom. The vine, then, represents the blood of Jesus and its cleansing power, and I believe that Jesus suggested the same thing with his first miracle, although, as he told his mother, it wasn’t his time yet for him to reveal his purpose.

Skeptical? I could understand, but look at the parallel language in the last part of the vine pericope, especially verse 10. (Note: the pericope comprises John 15:1–17). The NIV series has the paragraph break after verse 8, but the Greek text and several other English versions break the paragraph after verse 10, so I consider verse 10 to close out the first half of the pericope.) The word for “remain” (μένω menō) appears 10 times in the entire pericope, with 9 of those occurrences concentrated in verses 4–10. Jesus speaks of remaining connected to the vine all the way up to verse 10, where he switches things up and says, “If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love” (μενεῖτε ἐν τῇ ἀγάπῃ μου meneite en tē agapē
mou). How does Jesus define that love in verse 13? “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friend.” In the very next breath, Jesus calls his disciples his friends. But do they (or we!) understand the implication there? In a very sneaky (if Jesus can be sneaky) sort of way, Jesus again here predicts his death. Remaining in the vine is remaining in the love of God exemplified in the shed blood of Jesus the Messiah.

I want to make one more point here, although there is much more that could be said about the two passages. The water-into-wine and vine pericopes also reflect a theme of God’s miraculous provision in our lives. In John 2, Jesus’ mother, Mary, has faith in her son (as any good Jewish mother would) that he can fix the problem of the wine shortage. Jesus reluctantly obliges, and provides not only an abundance of wine, but an abundance of quality wine such that the steward is incredulous. John closes out the vine pericope with Jesus’ promise of provision for his disciples (vs. 16): “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last (= μένω)—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you.” This not to undermine the first part of the verse about bearing fruit that will remain; the emphasis here is, I think, that our asking should focus on those things that help us remain in the vine.

What are those things? I think they are very basic: How can I love God more and remain in his love, and how can I love my neighbors more so that they can discover and remain in God’s love. I could elaborate, but I think it’s best to keep it simple, just like Jesus did when he summed up the law and the prophets with the two greatest commandments.

Peace!

Scott Stocking

PS It’s great to back in the blogosphere again!

July 5, 2011

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

The next two weeks will be busier than usual for me, as I have my three kids for their opportunity to live with me. I am glad they are here, and I look forward to our time together. It took a 19-hour round trip to get them here, and we all slept in Sunday (they more than I), but it was worth it to be able to attend the evening service at StoneBridge Christian Church with them, then head out to my aunt and uncle’s cabin near Fremont to watch some professional and not-so-amateur fireworks displays. As my daughter said in her Facebook post, “‎1 good thing about driving at night on 4th of july weekend is never ending fireworks!:)\n”

I have made my way through Stephen’s “fatal” testimony in Acts 7 in my reading schedule, and his summary of Israel’s history has many mnemonic elements to it, almost as if Stephen had developed a primitive version of the popular “Walk Thru the Bible” events, where you learn motions to go along with the biblical story. Key words are repeated two or three times in each section, and a few inclusios stick out as well.

However, before I am too far removed from John’s Gospel, I want to tackle one of the two remaining “I am” statements I have not yet covered. “I am the resurrection and the life” (Ἐγώ εἰμι ἡ ἀνάστασις καὶ ἡ ζωή egō eimi hē anastasis kai hē zōē, John 11:25) is almost certainly the heart of John’s Gospel. It is the middle chapter of the book for starters. It is also the “I am” statement that is most closely associated with the historical event that prompted the statement, at least in terms of proximity in the biblical text. Finally, it is the one that reveals the power Jesus has over death and that looks forward to his own victory over death.

Once again, we should not be surprised that John has brought us to the point where this statement becomes significant. To keep it simple, a search of the phrase “eternal life” (ζωὴ αἰώνιός zōē aiōnios, usually used in accusative ζωὴν αἰώνιόν zōēn aiōnion) in the TNIV reveals 43 occurrences. John uses the phrase 17 times in his Gospel, more than twice that of the Synoptic authors combined. If 1 John is figured into the picture, John has over half the occurrences of the phrase in his writings. John had used the phrase 13 times up through chapter 10, but not at all in chapter 11 where we find our text.

In the Synoptic Gospels, the primary use of the phrase is in the three parallel passages where Jesus is asked what must be done to inherit eternal life. But John doesn’t record anyone asking that question. John (or Jesus’ words in John) is always forthright about declaring eternal life. In fact, three of the passages that have figured prominently in this discussion of the “I am” statements contain teaching about eternal life (John 4—woman at the well; John 6—”I am the bread of life”; John 10—”I am the door of the sheep”/”I am the good shepherd”; John 14:6, “I am the way and the truth and the life,” should also be included, because the last part is a restatement of 11:25).

Eternal life does not mean life forever on this earth in our current bodies. Eventually, the earth would run out of room to hold everyone. Death is in the offing for all of us; but if we are Christ followers, we also know death is not the end. The NT writers use several words for “resurrection” (noun) or “raise up (to life),” but the main ones are the noun ἀνάστασις (anastasis, the word found in Jesus’ “I am” statement) and the verbs ἐγείρω (egeirō) and ἀνίστημι (anistēmi). The verb ἐγείρω is by far the most popular of the two; John uses it 13 times as opposed to 8 times for ἀνίστημι. (Note: Because both the nouns and the verbs can refer to “standing up from being seated” or “rising up from a reclined position” as well as “rising from the dead,” I used Logos Bible Software to search for the Louw & Nida semantic domain numbers for each word when they specifically refer to “rising from the dead”; if you use a regular concordance to look these up, make sure you note the distinctions in usage.)

In the immediate context of the passage at hand (John 11:23–25), we find five occurrences of words that mean “come back to life.” Martha believes in the resurrection in the last day, but she also seems to hold out some hope that Jesus could restore Lazarus to them even at that time, even after he has been dead four days. Broadening the context, these resurrection words appear three times in John 6:39–40. But the occurrences that should make us sit up and take notice is that in John 2:20–22, where right from the start, Jesus predicts his own resurrection. John even points out in vs. 22 that the disciples remembered Jesus had said that after he rose from the dead (see John 20:9). Putting it all together, the resurrection and eternal life permeate John’s Gospel, while in the Synoptic Gospels, such discussion is limited to a few pericopes, the most significant being the Sadducees discussion with Jesus about marriage and the resurrection and Jesus’ own repeated predictions of his resurrection.

John develops this concept more completely than the other Gospel writers, especially by providing a living, breathing example, Lazarus, of someone raised from the dead other than Jesus. Matthew does mention the “sleeping saints” who came out of their tombs that resurrection weekend (27:51–53), but we’re never really told if that was an enduring earthly resurrection as we are with Lazarus (John 12:1, 9, 17). This is not to say John’s Gospel is better than the Synoptic Gospels. But it does reveal that John was not so much into telling a chronological story like the Synoptic authors; his focus is theology, or more specifically, Christology and eschatology. (I suppose technically I could use the words “anastasiology” [ἀνάστασις] and “zoology” [ζωή], but the first one’s not in the dictionary [which has never stopped me before!], and the second one is used primarily of nonhuman living beings.)

In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul develops even further the theology and centrality of the resurrection. I think it is safe to assume he had been influenced by John on this point. On the one hand, Paul says that it is futile to be a Christ follower if Jesus has not been raised from the dead. On the other hand, he talks about the spiritual realities of the resurrection: it’s not the earthly resurrection that Lazarus experienced. It is a transformation of our mortal bodies into an immortal substance that can never die. That is the substance of our “eternal life.”

Peace!

Scott Stocking

June 19, 2011

“I Am the Door of the Sheep”; “I Am the Good Shepherd” (John 10:7, 11)

Well, the summer solstice is just around the corner, and so is the end of my time reading through the Gospels. I read the first part of the crucifixion story this morning in John 19, and that has some interesting tidbits I may come back to:

  • Barabbas’s name is Aramaic for “Son of the Father,” or more colloquially, “Daddy’s Boy” (בַּר bar ‘son’ + אַבָּא abba ‘father, daddy’, perhaps with definite article); Jesus is the “Son of God [the Father]”: irony at its finest!
  • Three times, Pilate said he could find no charge against Jesus, and he seems to work tirelessly (and with concern for his own integrity) to try to release Jesus, even justifying his innocense to the Jewish leaders and the crowd, to no avail;
  • Jesus tries to ease Pilate’s worries about handing him over to be crucified by telling him, “The one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.” Note that Jesus cannot be accusing the God the Father here, but either Judas or the high priest.

But I digress from my intentions this morning. I want to tackle two more of the “I am” statements of Jesus found within a few verses of each other in chapter 10: “I am the Door of the Sheep” (v. 7) and “I am the good shepherd” (v. 11). The two statements are obviously closely related, but I will deal with each one separately, even though there will be some overlap.

“I Am the Door of the Sheep” (John 10:7)

I’m going to reproduce here my table (Table 1) from an earlier post that shows the connections between the seven “I am” statements of Jesus and the seven signs he performed, with today’s two statements highlighted: (2/13/2012: You can click the “I Am” statement to open the blog post for that statement.)

Table 1: Linking the “I Am” Statements with Jesus’ Miracles

“I Am” Statement

Sign/Miracle

John 6:35: I Am the Bread of Life John 6:1–15: Jesus Feeds the 5000+
John 8:12: I Am the Light of the World John 9:1–12: Jesus Heals a Man Born Blind
John 10:7: I Am the Door of the Sheep John 5:1–15: Healing of the Invalid at Bethesda [Sheep Gate]
*John 10:11: I Am the Good Shepherd John 6:16–24: Jesus Walks on Water
John 11:25: I Am the Resurrection and the Life John 11:38–44: Jesus Raises Lazarus from the Dead
*John 14:6: I Am the Way, the Truth, and the Life John 4:43–54: Healing of the Official’s Son
John 15:1: I Am the True Vine John 2:1–11: Water into Wine

One of the first connections to note out of the gate (pun intended) is that Jesus’ third sign is healing a man at the pool by the Sheep Gate (προβατικῇ probatikē, literally “of the sheep”; the feminine form is elliptical or shorthand because the word for “gate”, which is feminine, is not in the text there) in the walls of Jerusalem (John 5:1–15). This is the city gate through which the sheep entered when being brought to town for the market or the Temple. I will grant that Jesus’ statement, “I am the door of the sheep” (ἐγώ εἰμι ἡ θὑρα τῶν προβάτων egō eimi hē thura tōn probatōn) is more agrarian and rural than it is commercial and political, but the connection is significant nonetheless, because chapter 5 is the only time the Sheep Gate is mentioned in the Gospels. The Sheep Gate is mentioned three times in Nehemiah in connection with rebuilding the wall. It is probably not coincidence, then, that the high priest and his fellow priests had the responsibility to rebuild that section of the wall and rehang the gates (Nehemiah 3:1; cf. Hebrews 4:14, where Jesus is called our “great high priest”).

This “I am” statement has a connection to John 14:6 as well. In John 10:9, Jesus repeats the “I am” statement, this time without the sheep (“I am the door”), and the salvific connection is obvious (TNIV modified to reflect Greek word order): “Through me, whoever enters will be saved.” The phrase “through me” (διʼ ἐμοῦ di’ emou; the emphatic form of the pronoun is used) comes first in 10:9, even before the conjunction, which is a grammatical tool for emphasizing a phrase. The same phrase is found in John 14:6 (“no one comes to the Father except through me“) at the end. (Don’t ask me why, but Greek scholars say that an element of a Greek sentence can be emphasized at the beginning or the ending of a sentence; just one of those quirky things about Greek.) Here’s the beautiful part: normally you might think a prepositional phrase like “through me” should be common enough, right? Want to guess how many times it occurs in John? If you said “twice,” you are exactly right! Because it appears at the beginning of the phrase in 10:9 and at the end of the phrase in 14:6, I would say we have an inclusio here. Was it intentional by John? Perhaps not. Did God have a hand in ordering the text that way? I certainly think so.

Now if we have an inclusio, we need to look at the text in between and see what’s going on. Jesus does make his other statement about being a good shepherd two verses later in 10:11, but two other significant events are bracketed by the “through me” statements. The first is the resurrection of Lazarus from the dead and Jesus’ accompanying “I am the resurrection and the life” statement. More on that in a future post. The other significant event is the Last Supper, in which Jesus washes his disciples’ feet. In 13:8, Jesus makes another statement about his exclusivity as the Savior: after Peter objects to Jesus washing his feet, Jesus replies (my translation, emphasizing the present continuous aspect of the verbs), “Unless I am washing your feet, you are not having any part with me [μετʼ ἐμοῦ met’ emou].” This act of washing the feet is the act of a good shepherd who cares for his sheep, so we now turn to that “I am” statement.

“I Am the Good Shepherd” (John 10:11, 14)

In Table 1 above, I make a tentative link between “I am the good shepherd” (Ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ ποιμὴν ὁ καλός egō eimi ho poimēn ho kalos) and Jesus walking on the water in John 6. Here’s the connection, but again, it is tentative: Only Matthew records that Jesus called Peter to walk on the water (14:28–31); perhaps John doesn’t record this because he doesn’t want to call attention to Peter’s lack of faith in that instance. The connection has its “degrees of separation,” but it’s more than just about feet and water.

Jesus had stayed behind when his disciples set out in the boat in John 6. But when he saw the disciples were having trouble managing the boat in the strong winds, Jesus left whatever shelter he had sought out and walked out onto the raging sea to get to those he loved. He was looking out for his sheep. This reminds of the parable of the wandering sheep in Matthew 18:10–14, only in the walking on the water pericope, the wilderness is the sea itself. I can imagine that even for the son of God, walking on the water was not the safest thing to do, let alone doing it in a storm, yet Jesus says in the latter part of John 10:11: “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (repeated in vv. 15, 17, 18).

The concept of the good shepherd has its roots in the Old Testament. King David, of course, was a shepherd himself, and Psalm 23 is a popular treatise on how the Lord shepherds us on a daily basis. Ezekiel 34 is an extended treatise on the bad shepherds of Israel, who had led the nation on the path of exile. A few relevant passages from Ezekiel make the connection between Jesus’ “I am the good shepherd” statement and Jesus’ walking on water even more pronounced (all excerpts from the TNIV):

For this is what the Sovereign Lord says: I myself will search for my sheep and look after them. As shepherds look after their scattered flocks when they are with them, so will I look after my sheep. I will rescue them from all the places where they were scattered on a day of clouds and darkness (34:11–12).

As for you, my flock, this is what the Sovereign Lord says: I will judge between one sheep and another, and between rams and goats (34:17; note parallel to Matthew 25:32–33).

I will place over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he will tend them; he will tend them and be their shepherd. I the Lord will be their God, and my servant David will be prince among them. I the Lord have spoken (34:23–24).

They will live in safety, and no one will make them afraid…. Then they will know that I, the Lord their God, am with them and that they, the house of Israel, are my people, declares the Sovereign Lord. You are my sheep, the sheep of my pasture, and I am your God, declares the Sovereign Lord (34:28b, 30–31)

Live It Out

I find no shortage of irony that the one John called “The Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (1:29b) is also the door (or gate) for the sheep and the good shepherd. Both of these statements emphasize Jesus’ compassion for his flock. He protects us from thieves and bandits who would rob us of our joy. He is a refuge for us in times of storm and disaster. And he is the only one through whom we can be saved and have the promise of eternal life.

In John 21:15, Jesus has an emotional exchange with Peter to restore him to service after his denial. Three times, Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me?” Twice Jesus uses ἀγαπάω (agapaō) and once φιλέω (phileō), but Peter always responds with φιλέω. I don’t think much can made of the difference in the different words used for “love” as some have, but that’s not my point here. Jesus responds, “Feed my lambs” or “Feed my sheep.” Can we model the shepherding of the Savior? Some days it’s easier than others, but if Peter was forgiven for his triple-denial and went on to be instrumental in commencing the church, what great things can we do for God?

I had a stormy period this past month. Last month would have been my 19th anniversary with my (now ex-)wife, and I found myself craving the intimacy I once had with her. It was a struggle to get through that, but God, who is never unfaithful, continued to be faithful to me as I worked through my issues. I’ve come out on the other side now, but as much as I know I’m forgiven for the past, I still find that it haunts me at times. I need to trust that my shepherd is watching out for me in those times when I wander into the wilderness and know that as I “bleat” for his presence, protection, and love, he will hear me and come running to me to give me the only comfort that matters.

Peace!

Scott Stocking

June 12, 2011

“I Am the Way and the Truth and the Life” (John 14:6)

My reading schedule landed me in John 14 today, so I will go ahead and expound on Jesus’ sixth “I am” statement. I realize this is out of order, but I want to cover this while it is fresh in my mind.

More Connections with John 4

When Jesus says, “I am the way and the truth and the life” (John 14:6; ἐγώ εἰμι ἡ ὁδὸς καὶ ἡ ἀλήθεια καὶ ἡ ζωή egō eimi hē hodos kai hē alētheia kai hē zōē), his disciples should not have been surprised by this. This is another statement where the life, ministry, and words of Jesus should have prepared the disciples to understand this claim. In my chart in the Bread of Life post, I made a tentative connection between this “I am” statement and the healing of the royal official’s son in Cana of Galilee (John 4:43–54). Jesus does tell the official that his son will live (ζάω zaō), but that is the only significant verbal connection that I could discern. However, if the whole context of chapter 4 is taken into consideration, then the connection becomes less tenuous. In his discussion about living water with the woman at the well, Jesus makes the statement “God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth” (4:24; TNIV, as for all Scripture quotations herein, unless I indicate otherwise). This thought certainly parallels Jesus’ follow-up statement in 14:6b: “No one comes to the Father except through me.” In 14:16–17, Jesus promises to give “the Spirit of truth.”

But the parallels between these two chapters don’t end there. After the Samaritan woman in chapter 4 brings her friends back to see Jesus and talk to him for two days, her Samaritan friends make this remarkable statement: “We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world” (4:42; emphasis mine). The Samaritans, the people most hated by the Jews, know that Jesus is the Messiah! But look at the context in John 14 surrounding Jesus’ “I am” statement:

  • In verse 5, Thomas says, “We don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”
  • In verse 7, Jesus says, “If you really know me, you will know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”
  • In verse 9, Jesus responds to Philip’s request, “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time?”
  • In verse 10, Jesus continues: “Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and the Father is in me?”

His disciples still don’t get it! I think they had warmed up to the idea that Jesus is the Messiah by this time, but they still don’t seem to understand the implications of it all. Some of the disciples did come to this realization before the Last Supper (see Peter’s response to Jesus in Matthew 16:16, for example), but most Gospel accounts reveal that the disciples don’t come to a full realization of Jesus’ power and authority until after his death and resurrection.

“Where I Am Going…”

In chapter 6, after the discussion surrounding Jesus’ “I am the bread of life” statement, and especially after he has spoken about eating his flesh and drinking his blood, several of his early disciples desert him, because they don’t understand what he is saying. Jesus makes a statement in verse 62 that is the precursor to his “I am the way and the truth and the life” statement, especially the part about being “the way.” Jesus says, “What if you see the Son of Man ascend to where he was before?” (Recall that in 1:51, Jesus alluded to Jacob’s dream in Genesis 28:12 when he said, “Very truly I tell you, you will see ‘heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on’ the Son of Man.”) In 7:34, then, we have the first of several statements of Jesus recorded by John, where Jesus says (my translation), “Where I am, you are not able to come” (ὅπου εἰμὶ ἐγὼ ὑμεῖς οὐ δύνασθε ἐλθεῖν hopou eimi egō hymeis ou dunasthe elthein; 30 of the 82 occurrences of ὅπου hopou, ‘where’ in the NT are found in John’s Gospel). In 8:21, Jesus changes verbs: “Where I am going, you are not able to come.” But in 12:26, Jesus turns this to the positive with a condition: “If anyone would serve me, he must follow me, and where I am there also my servant will be.”

In chapter 13, Jesus returns to the negative, but not without some hope: in vs. 33 he repeats his words of 8:21, but then in 13:36, Jesus opens the door a bit (my translation): “Where I am going, you are not now able to follow me, but you will follow me later.” In 14:3–4, Jesus returns to a positive statement: “If I go and prepare a place for you, I am coming back again (note present tense) and I will receive you (note future tense) to myself, in order that where I am you may also be. And where I [myself] am going, you know the way.” In Jesus’ prayer in John 17, we find the last of these types of statements (my translation): “Father, I desire the ones you have given to me, in order that where I am they also may be with me.” In his final earthly prayer, Jesus expresses his longing that his disciples, the twelve men closest to him on earth (and yes, I think he included Judas Iscariot in that group), be with him both in his final struggle on earth and in his glorious eternal kingdom with the Father.

That desire extends to all who come after the disciples as well. Jesus longs for each of us to be with him in eternity, because he shed his own blood for our salvation. That’s how much he loved us. That’s how much he desires us, because he knew there could be no other way by which men and women could come to him.

“The One Who Sent Me”

Related to the discussion of where Jesus is going is the recurring theme of “the one who sent me.” Of the 27 times John uses the participle for πέμπω (pempō ‘I send’; the participle form used as a noun is translated as “the one who sends” [present tense] or “the one who sent” [aorist/past tense]), 24 of them in are attributed to Jesus, referring to the Father who sent him; one of the key passages where this connection is made is 8:14–18: In verse 14, Jesus says (TNIV): “Even if I testify on my own behalf, my testimony is valid, for I know where I came from and where I am going. But you have no idea where I come from or where I am going.” Then in verse 18, Jesus closes his argument with, “I am one who testifies for myself; my other witness is the Father, who sent me.”

Peace!

PS: One of my favorite Rich Mullins songs is “Where I Am, There You May Also Be,” released posthumously on his “Jesus Record.” Here is a link to the Ragamuffin Band performing the song live in Nashville in 2002. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

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